Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(50)

Ross gave him a chilling smile. “They can make do without you for a while.” His cold gaze swerved to the three young men who had accompanied Matthew. “Proceed with your plans, gentlemen. My brother will join you later.” Hauling a protesting Matthew back inside, Ross ushered him down the hall to a private study.

“What the hell is going on?” Matthew demanded, trying without success to pry himself free of Ross’s grip. “Dammit, let go—you’re ruining my coat!”

“In here,” Ross commanded, pushing him inside the study and closing the heavy oak door to afford them some privacy.

Clearly nettled, Matthew made a great show of smoothing his lapels and sleeves.

Ross glanced around the study, which had been left exactly as their father had arranged it. The cozy masculine room was small and lined with oak bookcases. A French drop-leaf table and a writing chair were positioned in front of a trio of windows. Remembering how often he had seen the elder Cannon writing correspondence or poring over account books at that desk, Ross scowled. He could not help feeling that he had failed his father by allowing Matthew to become the spoiled, selfish creature that he was.

Matthew frowned. “You’re looking at me as if I’m some cutpurse you’re about to dispatch to Newgate.”

“Newgate would be a pleasure palace in comparison to the place I’d like to dispatch you to.”

Hearing the grim fury in Ross’s voice, Matthew heaved a great sigh. “All right, I apologize for last night—I suppose Miss Sydney has offered her version of the story, casting herself as the virtuous victim. And I will admit, I was somewhat the worse for drink. My friend Hatfield had opened a damn fine brandy, and it went to my head.” Adopting an air of indifference, Matthew wandered to the well-worn globe in the corner and spun it idly.

“That isn’t good enough, Matthew. Yes, I intend to discuss your behavior of last night, but first we will deal with another matter that has presented itself.”

Matthew looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I had a meeting with Mr. Tanner this morning.”

“Who is Tanner?”

Ross shook his head in annoyance. “Our estate agent. The man who has managed our land and properties for the past ten years.”

“And you’ve already met with him this morning?

Good God, do you ever rest? The last thing I want to discuss is some trivial business matter—“

“It’s not trivial,” Ross interrupted curtly. “And it doesn’t concern business. It appears that one of our tenants has approached Tanner with the complaint that his unmarried daughter is several months pregnant.”

Matthew’s expression became guarded. “What has that to do with me, if some peasant wench is carrying a bag pudding?”

“Her family claims that you are the father.” Ross watched his brother’s face closely, and his heart sank as he saw the look of guilt in Matthew’s gray-green eyes. A curse escaped his lips. “The family’s name is Rann. Did you seduce the girl or not?”

Matthew’s face twisted into a surly grimace. “It was not seduction. It was mutual desire. She wanted me, I obliged her, and no one was the worse for it.”

“No one was the worse?” Ross repeated incredulously. “Tanner says the girl is not yet sixteen, Matthew! You’ve taken her innocence and given her a fatherless babe—and betrayed Iona in the process.”

Matthew looked unrepentant. “Everyone does it. I could name you a dozen men who have taken their pleasure outside the marriage bed. A bastard child is an unfortunate consequence—but that is the girl’s concern, not mine.”

Somewhere in the midst of his fury, Ross was shocked at his brother’s callousness. It was not lost on him that Matthew had done exactly what Sophia’s lover had done to her—used her, deceived and abandoned her. “My God,” he said softly. “What am I to do with you? Have you no conscience? No sense of responsibility?”

“Conscience and responsibility are your preserves, brother.” Matthew spun the globe again; it nearly teetered off its axis. “You’ve always been held up to me as an example of supreme morality. Sir Ross, the paragon of manhood. No one on earth could live up to the standards you set, and I’ll be damned if I’ll even try. Besides, I don’t envy you your sterile, joyless life. Unlike you, I have some passion—I have a man’s needs—and, by God, I’ll indulge them until I’m in my grave!”

“Why don’t you indulge them in your wife?” Ross suggested acidly.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “I was bored with Iona a month after we were married. A man can’t be expected to be satisfied with one woman forever. As they say, variety is the very spice of life.”

Ross was sorely tempted to blister his ears with a scalding lecture. However, the obstinate set of Matthew’s jaw made it clear that he was going to remain stubbornly unrepentant. He would never willingly face the consequences of his actions.

“Exactly how much ‘variety’ have you enjoyed?” Seeing Matthew’s blank look, Ross clarified his question impatiently. “How many women have you seduced besides the Rann girl?”

A vaguely smug expression settled on Matthew’s face. “I can’t be certain… nine or ten, I suppose.”

“I want a list of their names.”