THEY WERE LED to a drawing room that was decorated with understated elegance, floral wallpaper, pastoral paintings, and a grand piano filling one corner. Sundry pictures and bric-a-brac competed for space on available surfaces.
Julia settled on the settee, while Daniel admired the painting of some nautical scene, yearning to escape into it with Julia.
They did not have long to wait. Abel Shaw’s son strode into the room, a tall, dark-haired man, whose brown eyes behind silver spectacles were sharp and narrowed on Daniel. He dipped his head in greeting. “I am Martin Shaw, Your Grace. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
Something in the man’s reserve, an infinitesimal edge of hostility that emanated from him, and made Daniel cautious in his approach. No winsome smiles were going to win this man over. “Mr. Shaw. My apologies for calling without notice, and I will not take up too much of your time. Before I begin our business, allow me to introduce my fiancée, Lady Julia Chandler.”
Julia rose at his introduction and came to stand beside Daniel. She dipped into a curtsy, her smile bright. “You have a lovely home, Mr. Shaw. I do hope we are not causing too much of an interruption in your schedule, but I encouraged Bedford to make this visit, as it is a matter of some delicacy that has been festering for a few years.”
Shaw raised a brow, but held his silence. No bowing and scraping or scrambling to do their bidding. He bent enough to incline his head toward Julia. “Lady Chandler, it is a pleasure.” As the silence stretched, he felt compelled to offer them a seat.
Daniel waited until they were all settled before he leaned forward, choosing his words carefully. “Mr. Shaw, I understand that after all these years, my visit is untoward. However, your late father was my father’s solicitor for decades, and I wanted to offer my condolences to you for your loss. I have fond memories of him, for he always had a kind word for a boy and the unending patience to teach me vingt-et-un.”
Shaw’s smile was brittle, stopping short of his eyes. “Yes, well, my father had a fine hand at cards. But a decade has passed since his employ with your father, so I should be honored that you deigned to take the time to remember him, considering you have not all these years past.”
Daniel heard Julia’s intake of breath as Shaw’s words held a wealth of condemnation, clearly not honored by Edmund’s visit or condolences. This would take more than charm. He edged forward. “Yes, well, let me begin by saying that I was not myself after my own father’s death. Over the years and with Julia’s encouragement, I have come to regret some of my hasty actions in dismissing so many of those loyal to my father. Please accept my sincere apologies if it caused undue grief to your father during his retirement.”
Mr. Shaw straightened, apparently nonplussed at the belated apology. Sighing, his tension appeared to ease. “Yes, well, I should offer my apologies as well. While the last years were difficult for my father, and I’d like to place the blame elsewhere, my father shouldered most of it. As you know, he had a love of cards, and therein lies the true root of his difficulties. I don’t doubt he would have landed on the same unfortunate path regardless of whether or not he remained in your employ.”
Daniel heard the sadness underlying Shaw’s words and cursed his need to press into unhealed wounds. “I did not realize his habit was so consuming. I now understand why I never won a hand from him,” Daniel ruefully conceded.
“Few could. He had an uncanny ability.”
“Edmund, why don’t you share with Mr. Shaw the letter you received? We don’t want to make this visit more difficult than it has to be.”
Daniel tamped down his revulsion at her use of his brother’s name. “Mr. Shaw, my brother received a curious letter from your father. It was mailed to his Boston residence a few months ago. It was rather cryptic. He wrote that it was time for him to return home and claim his destiny, and that your father would explain more when ah . . . when Lord Bryant arrived home.” He cursed the trip over his own bloody name.
Shaw furrowed his brow and nodded. “Yes. It is similar to what he kept murmuring those last days. I am afraid I gave it little heed, for you must understand my father was never the same after he left your father’s employ. And not just due to his gambling or his fight to keep creditors at bay and stay out of gaol.”
“How so? That is, if you don’t mind my asking.” Daniel found himself edging forward on his seat.
“He kept rambling on about a betrayal, and how it would be the death of him. That he would pay the price for it, had a corner in Hades reserved for him and some doctor.” He shrugged. “My apologies, but I always assumed he was referring to you, the betrayal being your dismissal of his services.”