In Bed with the Duke(68)

‘What?’ Mr Bodkin got to his feet, sloshing port over the back of his hand. ‘You came up to Wragley’s, pretending to be someone you’re not, and goaded me into getting into a fight with my foreman, so’s I lost my job and my home, because of some stupid wager?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Gregory. ‘I had come to investigate the claims you’d made, and I was never pretending to be someone I’m not. My family name is Willingale. I just omitted to inform you of the titles I possess.’

‘Aye, but—’

‘I know, I know...’ Gregory raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘The foreman turned you out of your job and your home. But I did tell you, did I not, that if that happened you should come here and the Duke himself would make it all right? That if you handed the ring I gave you as a token to the lady who lived here she would take you in and house you until such time as the Duke could reinstate you?’

‘Aye, but—’ He rubbed the back of his hand with his other cuff.

‘And I shall not only reinstate you, but will promote you to foreman, since I have excellent reason to know I can trust you to fulfil the role with complete integrity.’

Bodkin sat down abruptly. ‘I never thought to... I mean, thank you, Mr Will... I mean, Your Grace,’ he stammered, attempting to get to his feet again. And then sinking straight back down again under the weight of his sudden, unexpected elevation to factory foreman.

‘I have already sent a letter of dismissal to Bigstone,’ said Gregory. ‘Though that is a mere formality.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ said Prudence. ‘A formality? Don’t you have to give a reason for dismissing one of your workers?’

There was a rustle of clothing as everyone turned to look at her as though wondering who’d spoken. Yes, they’d all forgotten she was there, so interested had they been in hearing about Gregory’s determination to win his stupid wager with Hugo.

‘Isn’t it a gross abuse of your rank simply to turn a man off on a whim?’

‘But it isn’t a whim,’ said Gregory, looking thoroughly perplexed. ‘I have just told you—we found proof that he had not only been cheating me, but had abused his own power over the workers under him.’

‘So you write one letter, explaining nothing, and—poof! He’s out on his ear. Is that how you normally operate? Trampling over lesser beings as though they are of no consequence?’

‘She has a point, Halstead,’ said Hugo. ‘You do tend to snap your fingers and expect everything to fall into place.’

‘It comes of being descended from a pirate, I expect,’ put in Lady Mixby.

Benderby glanced at Lady Mixby’s empty port glass with a shake of her head, while Hugo barked out a laugh.

‘Yes, there have been times when you have looked as though you’d have loved to tell me to walk the plank,’ said Hugo.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Gregory turned to Hugo and raised one eyebrow in a way that somehow expressed a sort of disdainful astonishment.

Hugo wasn’t a bit cowed. ‘Oh, don’t bother to deny it,’ he said. ‘You’ve wished you could be rid of me many a time. You’ve told me to my face I’m just a drain on your resources...’

Prudence remembered Gregory confessing something of the sort to her. And her reaction then: that he wasn’t really bad enough to do anything of the sort.

‘And if it wasn’t for the fact that my existence has spared you from having to marry again,’ Hugo continued, ‘you’d wash your hands of me...’

That jolted her right back to her own dilemma. Which was how to extricate themselves from a betrothal she was becoming increasingly convinced he couldn’t possibly want.

‘No, I would not,’ said Gregory. ‘I may find you extremely tiresome, but I would never wish any harm to come to you.’ He glanced at Prudence, as though recalling the very same conversation. ‘Hugo...’ He sighed. ‘I have only ever wanted you to learn habits of economy because of the immense responsibilities you will have to carry. Hundreds of people’s welfare will be in your hands. You will not wish to let them down.’

Hugo winced. ‘I’m sick of hearing about duty and responsibility and not letting the family down. Especially since, as Lady Mixby has just pointed out, our ancestors got away with being pirates. Or leading armies into mad battles. Or offering up their womenfolk to the King for a mistress. All of which would be considered scandalous these days, apart from going into battle—but, since as an only son I’m too precious to risk having my blood spilled on foreign soil, apparently I cannot even make my mark that way.’ He sat back and folded his arms across his chest.