Her Wicked Marquess (Sinful Wallflowers #2) - Stacy Reid Page 0,78

other, and the duke grimaced.

“I was hoping to be more delicate about it, but I believed you may be obliging enough to help me remedy a spot I find myself in—but not for long, I assure you, not for long.”

“I am listening.”

“My initial thoughts had been my sister’s hand in marriage for one hundred thousand pounds and shares in the copper mines you have in Cornwall.”

The duke had clearly used up her dowry living his reckless extravagant lifestyle.

“I am not interested in marrying your sister,” Nicolas said, keenly observing the duke.

“You truly do mean it,” the duke said, apparently at a loss.

Another man not bent on retribution or not tied into knots over Lady Maryann might have fallen on his face to wed the ravishing creature. The only thing Nicolas felt in regard to her were thoughts of wringing her pretty but scrawny neck for the vile plot she’d set against Maryann.

Farringdon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the over polished surface of his oak desk, his mien growing serious. “If I do not find a solution soon, we will be obliged to exercise the strictest frugalities and I might even have to remove myself to the country and let the town house to stop the bank from calling in the mortgage. Sophie and I might head to the poorhouse soon, and her immediate marriage is the most sensible remedy.”

“A man with three country estates and a town house can hardly believe himself to soon be poor.”

The duke scrubbed a hand over his face. “You do not know the full of it,” he growled. “I am damnably broke. All the money my father left: all gone. All the investments I had made over the years have fallen through. I cannot credit that much to pure bad luck.” He shoved at his desk with violence, jerking the sturdy oak with the strength of his anger. “All my creditors called in at the same time and the banks refused to extend me any more credit, as if they do not know who I am. I am the bloody Duke of Farringdon, and they dared refuse me! I swear it is as if I have the very devil himself after me and all he has laid at my feet is disasters.”

Dark pleasure filled Nicolas at the man’s obvious fright. “What do you want from me?”

“You are filthy rich,” the duke said bluntly. “I had my man of affairs check. You can easily afford to blunt me one hundred thousand pounds. I will repay it in good time, my man. That you can trust on.”

The duke waited with an air of expectation. Nicolas stood and held his hands over the fire. Keeping the duke in his periphery, he replied, “No.”

The man flinched. “Rothbury, if you will not take my sister in marriage, I will avail my other assets to you, of course,” he said coldly, as if he had been the one offended.

Nicolas smiled mildly, satisfaction settling deep in his gut. “I would not spot you a loan when I have been the man behind your present trouble.”

The duke froze. “What did you say?”

Nicolas faced him, his cane held in his hand. “You heard me.”

The duke stood, fisting his hand at his side. “By God, Weychell was right. He noticed that while our finances were being dealt blow after blow you remained flushed in the pockets.” He tossed his head arrogantly, a cruel sneer curving his mouth. “You would dare make enemies of us?”

“I would dare. Men stripped of their money and their connections sullied have no power. Surely you know this,” he murmured, allowing the facade he wore around them to melt away, and stared at the man, not bothering to hide the hatred that lingered in his heart. “There is no way out for you. You’ve gambled recklessly, losing thousands of pounds and a few unentailed estates in your arrogant idiocy.”

The duke flinched, and wariness settled over his face. He stared at Nicolas for several moments before standing with a scoff and saying, “You really expect me to believe you are the architect of the problems I am now facing.”

“Of course. Did you not wonder why the navy canceled their lucrative agreement with your ships on the high seas? Or why your tin mine got flooded without any of your workers being hurt and unwilling to return working for you? A mass exodus of almost two hundred men? Or is it that all of your unentailed properties’ mortgages were called in? That

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