“Oh for God’s sake,” Peter said. “I couldn’t possibly have known about the cognac.”
Nicholas arched one dark eyebrow. “I am unaware of this particular concern.”
Tagore’s eyes were gleaming like he’d just been handed a brand-new inkpot, or whatever the hell barristers liked. “Before His Grace inherited the title, it came to his attention that hisgrandfather was a particular connoisseur of cognac, and so before the former Stanhope passed on, thecurrentStanhope—”
“Kent,” Peter interrupted. “I beg you. Call me Kent. This story makes no sense when everyone involved has the same title.”
Tagore waved his fingers in dismissal. “Fine.Kenthere decided he wanted his grandfather to have the very best in cognac before his death.”
“Beforehisdeath,” Peter clarified. “I am not dead in this story.”
He was pretty sure Daphne laughed again. Selina shot him a chastening glare.
“Not yet,” mumbled Tagore. “In any case, Kent talked to Stanhope’s steward and found out where the man used to purchase the highest-quality bottles—smuggled, of course, because they are produced in France. Begging your pardon, Lady Selina, Your Grace.”
“I am aware of smuggling,” said Selina.
“Indeed. Er. Of course. In any event, that particular cognac was no longer for sale. So Kent hired a band of highwaymen—”
“Blatant defamation,” said Peter. “They were perfectly respectable members of their own particular kind of trade—”
“A band of highwaymen,” Tagore said, rolling right over his objection, “to steal the cognac from the smugglers. And they did. All eighteen barrels of it.”
Nicholas appeared on the point of speaking, then stuffed an iced biscuit into his mouth instead.
“I really don’t know what they were thinking,” Peter said. “Eighteen barrels! I meant for them to take a bottle.”
“But the real problem,” continued Tagore, “is that the smugglers had been hired personally by Lord Eldon. He is, as it turnsout, obsessed with cognac himself. And those eighteen barrels were the last production of an ancient distillery that was destroyed by Napoleon’s armies.”
“They were very expensive,” said Peter morosely. “Thousands of pounds.”
“And Kent stole them all. And then, because he did not want to store eighteen barrels of illegally obtained cognac in his house, he had them decanted and passed the extra bottles out to every public house and tavern in the county of Sussex.”
“So now,” Peter said, taking up the story, “Eldon is buying up every single bottle, one public house at a time. But the word has gotten out about the cognac, and the tavernkeepers are all charging him twenty times what they’re worth.” Twentythousandpounds. Surely Eldon could not want to spend twenty thousand pounds on French brandy.
“Good heavens,” said Daphne. “I’m not sure you could have made a more calculated project of indisposing Eldon if you’d tried.”
“Believe me,” said Peter. “I did not try.”
“Did your grandfather like the cognac?” Selina asked.
Peter felt his chest twist. God, what a question. Had he ever met a woman so clever and also so damned sweet?
“Yes,” he said. “He liked it very much.”
Nicholas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or tear off his cravat in disgust. “Stanhope, you have not exactly made this easy on yourself.”
“I know,” Peter said. “I know.” He couldn’t stop himself from rising, though he knew it wasn’t quite the thing. But he had to move. He had to dosomething. Damn him, he would not accept that his own recklessness had lost him the chance of getting custody of his brother and sister. Hecouldn’taccept it. He meant tocare for them, to protect them, and he would manage it, no matter what it took. Even if it meant becoming an altogether different kind of man.
He walked to the window and pressed a finger to the glass, then rubbed the smudge clear with the sleeve of his coat.
Back in New Orleans, he hadn’t been able to protect his brother, Morgan, and Morgan had died. But Peter was grown now. He was a goddamned peer of the realm. He would not let his father hurt these children—not through neglect or cruelty. Not even from the grave.
“Your Grace,” said Tagore, “have you any influence in Eldon’s circle?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Nicholas said. “I will certainly exert what pressure I can. But Eldon isn’t in the Lords now—though I have it on good authority that he would be open to such a thing when he leaves the Court of Chancery. I hate to say this, Stanhope, but I’m not sure how much I can help.”
When she spoke, Selina’s voice sounded almost abstracted. “What else do you know about Eldon?”
