it roused Reggie’s considerable interest. Within minutes of their first meeting, he cut right to the point. “Your money, sir. Where did you get it?”
“Beg your pardon?” Archelaeus raised his eyebrows.
“We are men of the world,” Reg told him. “Let’s not be coy—especially where money is concerned. We both know it is nothing to do with character. At best it is only an arbitrary indicator of a man’s place in the world.” He fixed the young lord with a narrow, uncompromising gaze. “So, how much have you got, anyway?”
“Difficult to say,” replied Burleigh, easily sliding into a tone of confidentiality, “what with the northern properties, the southern holdings, and the London house. Most of that belongs to the family, of course.” Archie had long ago learned to play on Londoners’ innate ignorance of Scotland generally and its gentry in particular.
“Just your private assets, then—your own private accounts—how much do you command personally?”
“Oh, I should say around ten thousand.”
“Not bad.”
“Annually,” Burleigh added, almost apologetically.
“I am impressed.” Harvey-Jones gave him a look of renewed respect. “That is twice as much as my income, and I work hard for what I get.”
“I am certain that you do,” agreed the young lord mildly. “My own work is more in the way of a leisure pursuit.”
“A hobby, sir?”
“Something of the sort.” The young gentleman allowed himself a sigh. “Still, one must fill the empty hours as best one can.”
“If you were married,” suggested the industrialist, “you would find other ways to fill those hours.”
“I daresay.”
“What is more, you would soon have fewer of them to fill!”
“Daddy,” chirped a warm feminine voice, “you are completely monopolising our host with your chatter.” She affected a frown of disapproval. “You aren’t talking about money again, are you? Tell me you’re not.”
“Furthest thing from my mind, Pippa dear.” Reggie gave his golden-haired daughter a peck on the cheek. “We were just now speaking of hobbies and avocations. The earl here complains of too much time on his hands. I told him he wants a wife.”
“Daddy!” Phillipa gasped, horrified, embarrassed, and excited all at once. She glanced at Burleigh to gauge his reaction to this bold affront to his dignity. “Oh, do please forgive my father. He can be such a rascal sometimes.”
“Yes, forgive me,” echoed Reggie. “I did not enjoy the benefit of the good upbringing my daughter had. But there it is. A man needs a wife. Well, sir, what do you say?”
“I say,” answered Burleigh slowly, holding Phillipa in his gaze as he spoke, “that happiness, like wealth, means nothing unless there is someone to share it.”
“Spoken like a true romantic,” hooted Reggie.
“Oh, Daddy, do behave.” Laying a hand on the impeccable black sleeve of Burleigh’s dinner jacket, Phillipa said, “I assure you, my lord, it is a sentiment I share.”
“Then perhaps you will do me the honour of sitting beside me at dinner tonight, so we can discuss it at the greater length it deserves.” Burleigh took her hand from his sleeve, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “That is,” he said with a glance to Reggie, “if your father can be persuaded to let you out of his sight for the space of an hour.”
“A calamity, sir, but I shall bear up somehow.” He waved them away. “Run along! You young folk go and enjoy yourselves.”
“Shall we?” Burleigh offered his arm, which the lady graciously accepted, and the two strolled off across the marble vestibule towards the great hall. Later they would be seen again and again in one another’s company—so much so that people began to expect it. They became an item of interest in the elevated reaches of high society and were treated as a courting couple—which certainly appeared to be the case—though whenever anyone ventured to ask, the question was lightly brushed aside with a laugh and an assurance of mutual friendship.
If that response was intended to stop the tongues from wagging, it effected the opposite result. The gossipmongers of the aristocracy spoke with ever more certainty of an imminent announcement of betrothal.
Alas, those expecting an early invitation to a gala wedding were disappointed. Summer came and went, gave way to autumn, and though the courtship continued, no matrimonial announcement was made. Those close to the earl intimated that the young gentleman’s travelling schedule made such arrangements difficult at present; his various business pursuits dictated a return to the Middle East and quite possibly the Orient. Be that as it may, speculation remained high for a wedding the following spring