Page 153 of Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Signing Contracts to Seal the Deal

Meanwhile, in the study at Excelsior Park, Cambridgeshire

E nsconced in his study enjoying the last of a cheroot, the Marquess of Huntsford heard the arrival of the Earl of Leicester and his youngest daughter even before they had made it into the great hall of Excelsior Park.

Amused at hearing Eloise’s giggling—Leicester had said something about frogs that she found humorous—Huntsford stubbed out the cheroot and made his way to the door.

Leaning against the jamb, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched until the two noticed him. The earl immediately came to attention, while his daughter quickly sobered and dipped a curtsy.

Huntsford’s brows rose in surprise before he acknowledged their courtesies. He stepped before Eloise and kissed her on the forehead. “I should have introduced you to Leicester a few years ago,” he said as he regarded her with a grin.

“Perhaps,” she replied.

“I don’t know that I would have been ready to wed a few years ago, my lord,” James murmured.

“Uncle Butch said to give you his regards,” Eloise said before she kissed her father on the cheek. “He’ll be here tomorrow, and he expects his favorite dinner.”

“Am I to assume he’ll be marrying you two the morning after that?”

“Eleven o’clock in the chapel,” James affirmed.

“His idea, no doubt,” Huntsford replied.

“We weren’t given an option,” Eloise said.

“Well, you’ll need a gown,” her father stated. “And some wedding clothes.”

Eloise shook her head. “James wondered if I might wear the gown I wore to dinner last evening.”

“Fine with me. I’ll have to argue with your mother, no doubt.”

“I don’t wish to cause trouble, sir,” James put in. “I just thought she looked particularly fetching, and, well, it’s the gown she was wearing when I proposed marriage.” He didn’t add that he had a waistcoat to match.

“You’re to be commended, Leicester. If you have a few moments, I thought we could go over the marriage contract in my study.”

James exchanged a quick glance with Eloise before he said, “Of course, sir.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, James, Father,” Eloise said as she dipped a curtsy. She headed for the stairs while James followed Huntsford into the study.

“I don’t know what you did or said to her, but Eloise hasn’t kissed me on the cheek since she was in leading-strings.”

“I called her by the name she wished to be called, sir,” James replied. “Lady El.”

Huntsford gave a start. “Edward used to call her that,” he said. “Still does, when he’s home from university.”

“She misses him, sir. I’m almost jealous of your son.”

“They were thick as thieves,” Huntsford acknowledged. “Well, if she acquires a pet frog, do remind her not to lose it in the townhouse. You’ll not want a housemaid screaming at the top of her lungs when she finds it in a sewing basket.”

“We’ve agreed the frogs will remain in the garden, sir, but we still intend to race them,” James said with a smirk. “By the way, might a footman be available to locate Lady El’s wooden sword? She thinks it might be in the attic.”

Huntsford chuckled. “I take it you already have one?”

James nodded. “I might have two at Leicester House, but just in case, I’d like El to have her own. I’ve been challenged, you see.”

Moving around to the other side of the large oak desk, Huntsford lifted a sheaf of papers and indicated James should sit. He did so, taking the contract from the marquess.

He glanced over the initial paragraphs, stunned to discover the dowry amount was listed as one hundred thousand pounds. “Are you sure this isn’t the contract for Lady Stephanie? This dowry is twice what you mentioned yesterday.”

“It is the contract for Eloise… for El,” Huntsford affirmed. “I had an epiphany this morning when I saw you two at breakfast,” he said. “Why should I bestow more on Weatherby for Stephanie? Especially when she had so many suitors and Eloise had none? Then it dawned on me that those suitors were only after Stephanie’s dowry. They didn’t care one whit who they married as long as there was a dowry.” He paused a moment. “You, on the other hand, not only endeared yourself to El, you made her into the young lady we always hoped she might become simply by doing her bidding. Something none of the rest of us apparently thought to do.”

James decided not to mention that El had asked her parents to call her by the same name her brother used to. “I do so because I love her, sir. I would do anything for her.” The words were out of his mouth before he gave them much thought, and yet he didn’t want to take them back.

It was true. He would do anything for Eloise.

“Well, have a look over the rest of it,” Huntsford commented. “Sign it if you would, and we’ll get this settlement sent off to my banker in London. Any chance your funds are with the Bank of England?”

James decided not to mention the fact that there weren’t any actual funds in his account—that it was in arrears—but thought better of it. “Sir William is my banker there, in fact.”

“Ah, then this will be an easy transaction.”

“Yes, sir,” James agreed as he perused the rest of the document, relieved to see the house in Park Lane was still included. Eloise didn’t deserve to live in the shabby pile that was currently Leicester House. “Tell me, where exactly is the townhouse?” he asked as he placed the papers on the edge of the desk and helped himself to a pen.

Dipping it into the ink, he wrote his name and title as the marquess signed the other copy. Huntsford glanced over at James’s signature and his eyes rounded.

“You’re an Audley,” he said as he took the set of papers and handed over the copy.

“I am, sir.”

“Why, I do believe one of your relatives lives next door to the townhouse,” Huntsford commented. “Adeline Audley.”

James sobered. “My late great Aunt Adeline,” he affirmed. “She died last year. I’ve no idea who inherited her property, though.”

“Well, now you know where the townhouse is.”

James signed the other copy of the contract. “I’m honored, sir.”

“Well, do be sure you’re not late for your own wedding,” Huntsford warned. “Day after tomorrow, eleven o’clock?”

“Oh, I’ll be there, sir.”