“What are you doing?” He grinned.
“Checking if you are ill. You did not growl or grit your teeth or in any way behave like an animal when I mentioned your wife’s name.”
“About that,” Robert said as they turned a corner into a less crowded street toward the gentleman’s club that was their goal. “She asked me to give you permission to use her given name.”
Thornston did not make a witty remark right away and Robert continued.
“She made the argument that since Xavier calls her by her given name and I kind of think of you as a brother as well, it would only be right that…” Robert cleared his throat and did not know how to continue.
“Well, if I had known we were having a serious conversation, I would have worn a different jacket,” Thornston said, gripping the lapels of his dove gray overcoat and straightening it again.
“Right,” Robert muttered and sent him an affectionate smile.
Had they been in private and Thornston not worn a top hat, he might have ruffled his curls as he had when they were children. This was only made more fun by the fact that Thornston and his valet spent at least an hour on his hair every morning.
They entered Montrose’s and found a seat by the window. Thornston started telling him of all the mischief he had gotten himself into while in Brighton, which mostly consisted of getting drunk with his reveler friends and sneaking into the bedroom of a young widow he was currently sleeping with.
Robert wondered briefly whether Thornston would change his ways when he married one of his cousins but decided that now was not the time to question this.
“Lord Riddlesmarsh,” someone said beside him, and Robert once again inwardly cursed Brighton for attracting everyone and their grandmother.
He put on a face, he hoped was polite but also not inviting further conversation as he turned and saw Mr. Hawkins standing behind him. Robert clenched his teeth at the sight of Jo’s cousin.
“Good day, Mr. Hawkins,” he said, not prepared to give the man the cut direct with so many witnesses.
“I have been by your house a few times but have been turned away by the staff each time, Your Grace,” Mr. Hawkins said pointedly and started pulling several sheets of folded papers from his pocket.
This did not bode well, Robert feared but decided to hear him out rather than interrupt him. It seemed the quickest way to have the matter over with.
“I am sorry to be so blunt, Your Grace,” Mr. Hawkins said as he sat down uninvited at the table.
Robert immediately drew back in his seat. He looked at Thornston out of the corner of his eye and saw that his friend’s posture had changed, like he was ready to grab Mr. Hawkins by the collar and throw him onto the street if he said one word wrong.
“I have spoken to my solicitor,” Mr. Hawkins began as he unfolded the papers. “Both he and I are confident that I have a claim to the money that my cousin made from the time my father died until she married, since the money was in my care as per my uncle’s will.”
“I… what?” Robert asked.
“I believe it to be 1.532 pounds,” Mr. Hawkins said and Robert felt slightly sick to his stomach that Jo’s cousin knew the exact amount.
“Why would you have any claim on the duchess’ money?” Thornston asked in almost a growl.
“Ah, Lord Thornston, that is easily explained,” Mr. Hawkins said in a saccharine voice. He held up a finger as he started to explain. “As per the stipulations in my uncle’s will, my cousin’s inheritance can only be managed by my uncle, myself or her husband. Thus, she was not allowed to invest the money on her own, from the time she came into her majority and until she married. The money should therefore rightly go to my father’s estate and thus to me.”
Robert clenched his hands into fists as he looked at the smug expression on Mr. Hawkins’ face. No, was all he could think. This cad, this ass wipe, was not to take Jo’s money. Ever. He would fight with everything in him to make certain that he did not have them.
“As you can see, my solicitor suggests that I will be handed over the money by the tenth. Meaning tomorrow,” Mr. Hawkins told him gleefully. “With compound interest, of course.”
Robert knew this to be false even though he could not find any argument against it at the moment. His rage on Jo’s behalf and the desire to protect her were so fierce that it was all he could think about.
“I will look into it,” he said through gritted teeth, snatched the papers from Mr. Hawkins’ hand and left the club without another word.
“That arse, that blackguard, that louse of a man,” Thornston was fuming beside him. “He is in the wrong, Robert. You know he is, right?”
“I do,” Robert growled as he looked at the papers.
Everything was explained in perfect legal terms, and if he was not used to reading these types of documents every day, he might have been fooled by how official they sounded.
He headed to the Pavilion Hotel with long strides. If he knew his mother at all, she would have taken Jo and his sisters there to have ice cream with the other ladies of the ton who were currently vacationing in Brighton. They were sitting at a prominent window seat that overlooked the ocean Robert could tell as he approached.