Page 33 of A Counterfeit Engagement

Jonathan pushed his chair away from the desk in his study. He would allow himself to cross his legs and lean back in the chair as he waited, but he absolutely refused to fidget.

In any case, there would not be long to wait. Under normal circumstances, Mr Davis was the soul of punctuality. Though he was already nearly a quarter of an hour late to their meeting, he would surely arrive soon.

Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind before a knock came on the door.

“Come in,” Jonathan called out.

“Mr Davis to see you, Your Grace,” Wilson the butler said.

Jonathan nodded. “Thank you, Wilson. Please have a tea tray sent up to us.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” Wilson replied. He bowed and walked briskly away.

“How well you know me, Your Grace,” Mr Davis commented.

Where Jonathan might have asked another man if he cared for tea, or perhaps offered a little of the smuggled French brandy that stood discretely on the shelf in an unmarked decanter, there was no need to inquire of his financial advisor.

Mr Davis would never think of turning down tea at Haverly House.

Jonathan chuckled. “We have been working together for many years now, Mr Davis. I know you and your habits tolerably well at this point.”

“Indeed, you do, and to that point, perhaps I ought to apologise for my tardiness, which I shall venture to call uncharacteristic.”

“Apology accepted,” Jonathan replied nonchalantly, “though I must admit to some curiosity. I have never known you to be anything other than perfectly punctual before.”

“I shall be glad to satisfy your curiosity. There was a carriage broken down three blocks away, and we could neither get past it nor turn back — there was already a line of wagons behind. In the end, I told the coachman that I would walk the rest of the way, and so I did.”

“This is taking duty too far,” Jonathan protested, astonished that Mr Davis would have put himself to such inconvenience and discomfort.

“While the business we are to discuss today is of great importance, I would not have had you inconvenience yourself half so much. At least you must allow me to send you home in my carriage when you leave today.”

“I accept your offer with thanks, Your Grace. As for the rest of it, there is nothing to it. I heartily dislike being unable to keep my appointments, and I should much rather walk a little than miss one. But perhaps we might speak of why you asked me to come here today.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yes, let us begin. As you know, I have lately married.”

Mr Davis smiled broadly. “Congratulations, Your Grace — my most hearty congratulations. The late Mr Anderson was a good friend of mine, and I was fortunate to know your duchess when she was a young girl. You have married a sensible and good-natured woman, not to mention a clever one. In years to come, I believe you will find you are a lucky man.”

Jonathan’s smile felt suddenly frozen to his face.

But the praise, at least, he could readily agree with.

Sophie was everything admirable. If there was a fault in their marriage, it was that he could not give her what she wanted most from him.

Surely the flaw was in him, if all the rest of the world could so easily agree to the poetic lie of love.

But Jonathan could not afford that lie — not when he knew what it might cost.

“My wife is a remarkable woman,” he said at last. “Despite being a gentle soul, she is formidable. More so, I think, than she knows herself.”

Mr Davis was looking at him strangely. Jonathan suppressed a wince.

He could hardly have done worse in concealing the strained state of their marriage.

But Mr Davis was a discrete man, both by nature and because he was paid to be, and only shuffled through the papers he had brought with him before turning back to their business.

“If you will forgive my saying so, I was rather surprised you did not have me handle the settlement papers. But perhaps the duchess’s family preferred to entrust the matter to their own solicitor.”

“Not at all,” Jonathan said steadily. “I do indeed wish you to handle the settlement.”

Mr Davis stared at him. “You are already married, Your Grace. There is the matter of her Grace’s dowry — what is to be set aside for any daughters, and for the duchess herself, in the event of Your Grace predeceasing her — was this not settled when the engagement was first made?”

“As a friend of Mr Anderson, I am sure you will recall the tragedy,” Jonathan said. “My wife did not have a dowry. We shall therefore determine what is to be settled upon her now.”

“She did not —” Mr Davis sputtered to a halt. “I knew, of course, that much of the Anderson fortune was lost, and that Mrs Anderson left London with the girls. But do you mean to tell me it all —”

Jonathan waited for some moments, but Mr Davis seemed quite unable to finish his remark. At last, he took pity on the man. “It was indeed all lost. The removal from London was not a matter of choice, but of necessity.”

“I did not know,” Mr Davis said, almost inaudibly. “And to think…poor Mrs Anderson. I might have helped, I might have done something…”

Seeing the unexpected depths of Mr Davis’s emotion, and particularly how closely his sympathy seemed to centre on the widowed Mrs Anderson, a certain suspicion suddenly bloomed in Jonathan’s mind. But of that, it would be better not to speak.

The sudden arrival of the tea things provided a welcome respite from emotion.

Mrs Jennings bustled about, serving the tea, providing Mr Davis with cream and sugar, and urging him to take one of her fresh-baked scones — though the latter was rather unnecessary.

Knowing the excellency of the kitchens at Haverly House, Mr Davis required little urging.

When the scone had vanished down to the spots of cream wiped away by Mr Davis’s handkerchief, Jonathan turned back to business.

“I thought of settling thirty thousand pounds on Sophie in her own name — the same as Sarah’s dowry.

With that, and the house in Oxford, she would be comfortable even in the event of my untimely death without issue. What do you think, Mr Davis?”

“That would seem to be suitable, though of course we must hope it will never be necessary,” he remarked absently. Jonathan gestured to the writing implements that Giles had left prepared on the desk, and Mr Davis nodded his thanks and noted down the instructions.

“Then there is the matter of Sophie’s pin money. I shall want it paid quarterly from my main account into a new account in her own name.”

“Very good, Your Grace. It is always better that the ladies should not have to ask their husbands about every little matter of dress or fripperies,” Mr Davis approved. “What sum shall I transfer?”

“I have drawn up a list of transfers,” Jonathan told him. “You will see the sum for pin money on the first line there, with the provisions for Sophie’s mother and sister below.” He handed Mr Davis the sheet of paper listing the various sums.

Mr Davis took it and began to read through the sheet, though he did not get far. At the sum for pin money, he stopped and looked at Jonathan in astonishment for a long moment. “That…will provide any number of fripperies, Your Grace.”

“Good,” Jonathan said coolly. His tone made it clear that he did not wish to discuss the matter further. “Now, there is a matter of some discretion I wish to canvas with you. I wish you to meet with my duchess and instruct her in how to access her funds.”

“Gladly, Your Grace. Do you wish me to —”

“Furthermore,” Jonathan continued relentlessly, “I wish you to present these arrangements as entirely standard among the ton , and quite unsurprising.”

Mr Davis looked at him hesitantly. “I am afraid I do not quite understand, Your Grace.”

Jonathan stifled a grimace. “I do not wish my wife to think I am being overly indulgent. She is all too apt to think herself undeserving, when nothing could be farther from the truth.” He looked away.

Mr Davis was a man of rare understanding.

Jonathan was rather afraid that Mr Davis understood him only too well.

But Mr Davis only nodded and said quietly, “I take your meaning, Your Grace. I shall present the pin money to the duchess as entirely standard for anyone at your level of society. As, indeed, I believe it ought to be.”

“Thank you,” Jonathan replied briskly. “Please also make it clear to Sophie that her pin money is not to be used for family expenses, such as refurnishing a drawing room or funding our upcoming ball. For such things, I shall wish her to draw on the main account.”

“That will not present a problem, of course, Your Grace, but do you not wish to speak to the duchess yourself?” Mr Davis protested mildly. “All these decisions are the soul of generosity. Surely the duchess would be pleased to hear of them.”

“Pleased, and obligated,” Jonathan said under his breath.

More clearly, he turned to Mr Davis and said, “No, I thank you, Mr Davis. You will kindly do me the favour of communicating this information to Sophie yourself. I shall commend you to her as a source of excellent financial advice, as I have always found you to be. My wife is highly intelligent, but she lacks experience in these matters.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” Mr Davis said, “and I thank you for the compliment. Is there anything else you wish of me today?”

“Only to speak with the duchess, if you have no objection.”

“None at all, of course, Your Grace,” Mr Davis said. “I am ready at the duchess’s convenience.”

Jonathan lightly touched the bell on his desk. He and Mr Davis hardly had time for two words of conversation before Mrs Jennings came bustling in.

“How may I assist you, Your Grace?”

“Please inquire if the duchess would find it convenient to receive Mr Davis for a discussion of finances,” Jonathan instructed her. “If so, he shall join her shortly.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” Mrs Jennings replied. It was not long before she returned with the news that Sophie was in her reading room, and would gladly welcome the visitor.