Page 5 of Introducing Mr. Winterbourne

“Ourunderstandingwas that the items you showed me on Monday disclosed the total sum of your debts.”

If anything, the earl’s face flamed harder, and the son looked mortified too. He glanced to the side, as though to pretend he wasn’t hearing this.

“Fine,” the earl snapped. “By all means deliver them back to me.”

“Oh, you have a thousand pounds to spare just now do you?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows. When the earl flushed and looked away, Adam nodded. “I thought not. Well, I’m not about to let your tailor starve because you can’t manage your affairs, but there has to be a limit.” He heard the son give a slight gasp at his bluntness, but didn’t even pause. “You have until tomorrow at four o’clock to present your remaining bills to my secretary, Lord Winterbourne. Anything you pass over by then will be paid. However, let us be clear on this: that will be the end of it. You will not get a penny more from me. My brother’s happiness is important to me, but he has cost me very dearly with this match.”

The earl’s face went purple with anger, but he nodded. “Very well. Then, I’ll see to it now. Good day, Freeman.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and strode away, closing the door sharply behind him.

Silence.

Adam turned to look at his escort for the day. Lysander Winterbourne was staring at him, wide-eyed, and Adam wondered what the young man was thinking.

He probably thought Adam was a perfect boor. He probably thought Adam should just meekly hand his money over for Lord Winterbourne to squander for the favour of his insipid sister’s hand.

Winterbourne gave a stiff and very awkward smile.

“Shall we go?” he suggested. “I thought we might call on my sister, Lady Hazlett. You met her at the engagement ball, I’m sure?”

Adam remembered her—she was the oldest Winterbourne sibling, and although she looked rather like her younger brother, she was not beautiful, as he was.

“Very well,” he said. “If we must.”

He realised he sounded ungrateful, and for a moment—when he saw how Lysander Winterbourne’s face fell at his brusque words—he even regretted it. But the fact was, hewasn’tgrateful, and for good reason.

Lysander Winterbourne would no doubt have a day or two of discomfort squiring him around. Well, it was probably the first bit of work—if you could call such a thing work—that the man had ever had to do.

Perhaps it would do a Winterbourne good to think of someone else’s preferences for once in his life.

Chapter 3

By their fourth afternooncall, Lysander was flagging.

Simon’s brother was taciturn. He was cold and proud, and at times he bordered on being actively rude. Lysander was on tenterhooks, wondering what he might say.