Page 76 of The Detective and the Baroness

Mitchell could not remember enjoying just being with people more. Knowing Danaher sat in a prison cell certainly added to the celebrations. But it was Christmas, and he had not participated in many holiday festivities since his parents passed. He’d met with some of his fellow policemen for a drink on Christmas Eve, but the next day, he usually worked or found a pub that was open and had a hot pot and a pint of stout.

From this day forward, all that would change. He had a new lease on life and would recover and return to his career. But the most important thing?

He had someone to love and someone who loved him in return.

A Merry Christmas, indeed.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Corrine had to admit she felt apprehensive on the journey to the solicitor’s office, and Mitchell must have sensed it as he took her gloved hand, laced his fingers through hers, and held it, squeezing it gently and assuredly along the way. Mr. Chambers was to meet them at the office.

All she wanted to do was to put this entire Addington marriage debacle behind her. How it ended—with Travis’s murder—was still difficult to comprehend. After introductions, Corrine and Mitchell sat at the round table in the conference room, and Mr. Chambers sat on her right. She cast a glance at the new baron. He was quite handsome, with the same shade of golden-brown hair as Travis’s. He and Mr. Dobson sat in front of piles of legal-looking papers.

“How was your journey, my lord?” Corrine asked politely. There was no harm in starting this off on the right foot.

“Tiring, I must say. But swift. I have been in this office since nine this morning. There was quite a lot to hash out. I am still not used to the ‘my lord’ business. That will take time to adjust to as well. My late father mentioned once we had peerage relations in London, but I thought no more of it, for he stated there was no chance we would ever inherit. Now, here I am.”

Corrine could hear a slight Irish lilt to his speech. “Have you lived in Ireland your whole life, my lord?”

“On and off. My mother is from Ireland. We had no dealings with the Addingtons in London. None at all. What is the connection again, Mr. Dobson?”

The solicitor consulted his papers. “Through your paternal great-grandfather, my lord.”

“Right. Anyway, here we are. My bride’s parents are over the moon to have a baron for a son-in-law, at any rate.”

“Before we delve into matters,” Mr. Chambers interjected. “We want to inform you of a loan the late Travis Addington made to her ladyship’s father right before his death.” Mr. Chambers explained about the loan, Corrine’s unreliable, reckless father, and how Mitchell had recovered most of it. He slid a paper across to Mr. Dobson. “A promissory note, not worth the paper it is written on.”

She and Mitchell had met with Mr. Chambers yesterday, and he concurred it was time to mention the loan.

Mr. Dobson read it, then handed it to the baron.

“The loan was to be paid back in full if you divorced? How extraordinary,” the baron murmured.

Mr. Chambers held nothing back. He told the baron of the dire situation that had prompted her to accept the marriage proposal and the marriage settlement and how most of it had paid her father’s considerable debts, and the rest propped up the viscountcy. Corrine had asked Mr. Chambers not to mention Travis’s loathsome heir proposal. It had no bearing on the legal matters.

But something was bothering her. She turned to Mr. Dobson. “I have a question. After paying my father’s debts and giving the viscountcy a stipend, some of the marriage settlement remains. Mr. Chambers said it was mine. Is that true?” Corrine held her breath as she waited for the reply.

Mr. Dobson folded his hands on the desk. “I recently took on all of Baron Addington’s legal work, not just his will. I have seen the marriage settlement agreement, and yes, the money is yours.”

Corrine exhaled in relief. “At the end, we were estranged. And the loan to my father—complicated matters. We have eighteen thousand pounds in our friend, Doctor Hornsby’s safe. As for the rest of the loan, my younger brother is trying to collect the remaining funds from my father. I truly had no idea about the loan.”

“Thank you, my lady, for telling us. You could have kept the money and not said a word,” the baron said. He gave her a warm smile.

“Speaking of Danaher,” Mitchell said. “He confronted Corrine a few days ago.” Mitchell gave them a condensed version of the events.

“My God!” Mr. Dobson exclaimed. “Mahone sent word the criminal had been arrested, but I had no idea of your involvement. I’m relieved you are both safe.”

“As am I,” the baron said. “Mr. Dobson informed me about Danaher this morning. I am doubly relieved he is in custody.”

“Thanks to Mitchell.” Corrine took his hand. “We are to be married on the morning of the thirty-first.”

Mr. Dobson raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

“May I offer my congratulations to you both?” The baron smiled. “That makes what I proposed to Mr. Dobson all the more relevant and timelier. Mr. Dobson?”

“Right.” The solicitor rifled through his papers. “First, with your marriage, that means legally, the monthly stipend will cease.”

“I assumed it would,” Corrine replied.