Page 41 of The Detective and the Baroness

“I will have the same,” Jeffery smiled. Once the waitress left, Jeffery’s smile disappeared. “I’d no sooner canceled Father’s accounts and paid his previous bills when I heard of this,” her brother groused.

“Now you know what I have had to tolerate the past decade and more,” Corrine replied sardonically. “And what I still suffer.” She held nothing back and informed her brother of her recent conversation with Travis.

Jeffery’s eyes widened the more she revealed. “That miserable bastard! You mean, you—and he never—” Jeffery paused as the waitress approached with a tray.

She placed a sizeable ceramic teapot, cups, and saucers before them, along with a milk pitcher and a sugar bowl. “Luncheon will be another ten minutes. Enjoy the tea.”

Corrine nodded, gave a brief, polite smile, and turned slightly to watch the waitress return to the kitchen.

“No. We never. Now you know why I’m considering a divorce. His suggestion is beyond the pale. I would never involve myself with a stranger to have a child. I do not need or want a child that much,” Corrine whispered fiercely as she poured their tea.

“We should have Father committed,” Jeffery muttered crossly as he took the cup and saucer from her. “Look at what his irresponsible actions have caused. Is it possible to place someone in an asylum for monetary reckless behavior?”

“I doubt it. If so, the asylums would be filled to bursting. Jeffery, I need you to discover if Father put the money in some ill-advised scheme.”

“As soon as I return from Manchester. I’m going to attend meetings at our branch there. I have heard rumblings I may be promoted—and transferred.”

“No, they cannot do that. You’re the heir apparent to a viscountcy. Who will watch over Father?” A sick feeling settled within Corrine at this unwelcome news. “I cannot deal with our father any longer. I cannot take over his guardianship. It will break me.” Quite the confession, but true. Being a nurse, Corrine was well aware of the signs of someone near a complete collapse, and she was close to that point of no return just before Travis’s proposal. The last few months of financial stability had managed to eliminate most of her anxieties regarding money and had made her feel somewhat safe from ruin. But how long would that fragile repair hold?

Her brother took her trembling hand. “Do not be distressed over this. I will refuse to take the transfer and tell the bank exactly why. That Father is not well and cannot be left alone and unsupervised. Nor can he leave London, not even temporarily.”

Corrine exhaled. “Thank you. Will it place your status there in jeopardy?”

Jeffery released her hand, picked up his cup, and sipped the tea. “I am heir to a viscount. They will want to keep me on the payroll and keep me content. They will place me on the board of directors as soon as I inherit the title. They told me so. The bank is not all that large and prominent, so having a viscount on the board would be a feather in their cap. However, I must attend the meeting and may be gone for a week, perhaps more. But I will dive right into Father’s loan when I return.”

“I will ask Detective Sergeant Simpson to look into it as well. He is coming by tomorrow.”

Jeffery placed his cup on the saucer. “I do apologize for what I said about Sergeant Simpson. Good for you for hiring him to follow Addington. Yes, have him investigate Father’s actions, as well. We must untangle you from this imprudent marriage. But how?”

Corrine sighed. The marriage was impulsive, rash, irresponsible, and whatever other synonyms fit. “I’m not sure it is possible. But we must try.”

“Thank you for confiding in me.”

Corrine smiled warmly. She loved her younger brother dearly. He had still been a child when their mother had passed away, and in reality, Corrine had brought him up since their father hadn’t wanted to be bothered.

Just then, the waitress returned with the food, setting heaping platters before them. Then she hurried to another table.

“Look at this. Absolute perfection,” Jeffery marveled as he stared at the golden breast of chicken.

“The chef here is very talented. Nothing fancy, just basic meals that excel. He is a half-brother to Detective Sergeant Simpson.”

Jeffery sliced into his chicken. “I take it there is an interesting story there.”

“But it is not mine to tell. When are you going to Manchester?”

“In two days. I will come and see you as soon as I return.”

Feeling relieved, Corrine speared some roasted potatoes onto her fork and ate them.

When they were nearly finished with their meals, the waitress came to the table and placed a platter of tarts, fancy biscuits, sliced seed cake, and other assorted petit fours before them. “Liam said this dessert assortment is on the house, in thanks for your help with the nursing. I will bring you plates and a fresh pot of tea. Enjoy the rest of your luncheon.”

“This looks fancy enough to grace an aristocrat’s table,” Jeffery exclaimed.

Corrine laughed, then leaned in and whispered, “They came from an aristocrat’s table. Mr. Hallahan sells them to his customers to raise the needed money to feed the unfortunates of the neighborhood every morning before he opens.”

“Well done. I am impressed.” Jeffery took her hand once again. “I have a feeling everything will work out for you, Corri. Wait and see.”

Will it? Corrine was not so confident. But with her brother on her side and Mitchell there as well, perhaps she could have some semblance of hope. All she knew was that she looked forward to seeing Mitchell tomorrow. He made her feel safe. But more importantly, alive.