Chapter 75 - Seventy Five
The private parlor of the quiet inn was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of tea and murmurs from the patrons. A single tray with a pot of tea and two cups sat on the table between Baroness Augusta and Duke Philip. The atmosphere was a careful construction of civility, masking the dangerous purpose of their meeting.
"Be honest with me, Your Grace," Augusta began, her voice a smooth, silken purr as she sat across from him. "You don’t truly wish happiness for this marriage, do you?"
Philip smiled, a cool, polite expression that didn’t reach his cold eyes. He took a slow sip of his tea. "Why wouldn’t I?" he replied, his voice equally smooth. "It is my dear brother’s wedding, after all. A cause for celebration for the entire Carson family."
Augusta’s own smile was knowing. "Of course. But I have been thinking, and I figured this arrangement wouldn’t be ideal, especially from your position as the head of the family."
Philip set his cup down, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "I don’t know what my brother, Eric, could have possibly done to displease you, Baroness. But since they are getting married, I do hope you will try to like him for your daughter’s sake." He relaxed back into his seat, turning her insinuation back on her. "And isn’t this a wonderful opportunity for the Ellington family? To get a rather good son-in-law, I should think."
"Even though the arrangement might be the contrary for you, Your Grace?" Augusta countered, refusing to be put on the defensive. " Even though it turns back to stab you in the back."
Philip sighed, his patience wearing thin. "What is it that you truly want to say, Baroness? Let us not waste the afternoon playing with words. Go straight to the point."
Augusta smiled. This was the opening she had been waiting for. She reached into her reticule and took out the folded, flimsy gossip pamphlet Mr. Prescott had given her. "Take a look at this," she said, dropping it on the table and pushing it to his side.
Philip picked up the pamphlet, his expression one of distaste, and read the sensationalized headline about his grandmother and Baron Edgar.
"My father-in-law, Baron Edgar, handed that much gold to the Dowager Duchess," Augusta explained, her voice low and sly. "If I can remember, it was ONE MILLION GOLD COINS." She mouthed each words slowly.
Philip looked up from the paper, his brow furrowed. "What is this nonsense?"