Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(51)

“Why?”

“To discover whether or not you have fathered any other bastard children. And if so, you are going to provide for their support and education.”

The younger man sighed grumpily. “I don’t have any money to spare—unless you give me an advance on my allowance.”

“Matthew” Ross said, his gaze menacing.

Matthew held up his hands mockingly. “All right, I yield. Scour the countryside for my illegitimate offspring. Take away what little money I have. Now, may I join my friends?”

“Not yet. There is something you should know. From now on, I will ensure that your indolent way of life is over. No more lounging at the club and drinking all day; no more gambling or chasing women. If you attempt to visit your usual haunts, you’ll find that you are no longer welcome. And you will be refused credit wherever you go, for I will make it clear to shopkeepers and list-makers alike that I will no longer be responsible for your debts.”

“You can’t do that!” Matthew burst out.

“Oh, but I can,” Ross assured him. “From now on, you are going to work for your allowance.”

“Work?” The word seemed unfamiliar to Matthew. “Doing what? I’m not qualified to work—I am a gentleman!”

“I will find something appropriate for you,” Ross promised grimly. “I am going to teach you responsibility, Matthew, no matter what it takes.”

“If Father were still alive, this would never happen!”

“If Father were still alive, this would have happened years ago,” Ross muttered. “Unfortunately, much of the blame is mine. I’ve been too busy at Bow Street to pay attention to your activities. That is going to change, however.”

A string of curses issued from Matthew’s lips as he moved to a cabinet and rummaged for a glass and a decanter. Pouring himself a brandy, he tossed it down as if it were medicine, then refilled the glass. The liquor appeared to brace him. Taking a few long breaths, he glared into Ross’s implacable countenance. “Are you going to tell Iona?”

“No. But neither will I lie to her if she ever comes to me with questions about your fidelity.”

“Good, then. My wife will never ask—she does not want to hear the answers.”

“God help her,” Ross muttered.

After taking another swallow of brandy, Matthew swirled the liquid in his glass and gave a moody sigh. “Is that all?”

“No,” Ross said. “We have one more issue to address—your behavior toward Miss Sydney.”

“I’ve already apologized for that. I can’t do any more than that… unless you would like me to open a vein?”

“That won’t be necessary. What I wish to emphasize is that you are to treat her with absolute respect from now on.”

“There is only so much respect I am going to show a servant, brother.”

“She isn’t going to be a servant for much longer.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow in mild interest. “You’re going to dismiss her, then?”

Ross gave him a hard, purposeful stare. “I’m going to marry her. If she will have me.”

Matthew stared back with total incomprehension. “Holy Mother of God,” he said raspily, and stumbled to the nearest chair. He sat down heavily, the whites of his eyes on full display as he regarded Ross. “You’re serious. But that is madness. You would be a laughingstock. A Cannon marrying a servant! For the sake of the family, find someone else. She is only a woman—there are a hundred others who could easily take her place.”

It took all of Ross’s will to keep from doing his brother bodily harm. Instead he braced his hands on the desk, closed his eyes for a moment, and battened down his temper. Then he turned and sent Matthew a gaze filled with black fire. “After all the years I’ve spent alone, you ask me to reject the one woman who makes me complete?”

Matthew seized on his words. “That is my point. After so many celibate years, you’re half mad from deprivation. Any woman would seem desirable. Believe me, that creature is not worthy of your affection. She has no sophistication, no style, no family. Take her as a mistress, if you fancy her. But I advise you not to marry her, because I guarantee that you will soon tire of her, and then you’ll be well and truly shackled.”

Abruptly Ross’s anger died. He felt nothing for his brother except pity. Matthew would never find true love or passion, only hollow imitations. He would spend the rest of his life feeling dissatisfied, never knowing how to fill the emptiness inside. And so he would turn to artificial pleasures, and try to convince himself that he was content.

“I will not attempt to persuade you of Sophia’s worth,” Ross said quietly. “However, if you say one word to her that could be construed as critical or condescending, I will castrate you. Slowly.”

Chapter 11

Simple black or white silk masks were provided for the guests who had not brought one for the Saturday evening ball. But most of the company were wearing beautiful creations that had been designed especially for the event. Sophia was dazzled by the array of masks adorned with feathers, jewels, embroidery, and hand-painted motifs. People mingled and flirted audaciously, enjoying the anonymity that their disguises afforded. The unmasking would occur at midnight, after which a lavish supper would be served.Peeking around the doorway of the drawing room, Sophia smiled in satisfaction at the splendid sight of guests dancing a formal minuet, executing bows and curtsies with practiced grace. The ladies all wore gowns in fashionably rich colors, while most of the gentlemen were striking in their schemes of black-and-white evening wear. Freshly waxed and polished floors reflected the sparkling light of the chandeliers, bathing the assemblage in an almost magical glow. The air was thick with flowers and perfume, relieved by the evening breeze that drifted in from the conservatories and anterooms.