Chapter Seven
~April 25~
The following morning, Charles was dealing with accounts. It was his least favorite part of owning a business, although he did have to admit to a great deal of satisfaction when he tallied a column of figures and it came out exactly as he’d expected. It was even better, of course, when the column of income surpassed that of his expenses. He was happily staring at such a column when a footman knocked on his study door.
“I beg your pardon, sir, there is a Lord St. Vincent who wishes to see you. Are you at home?”
Lord St. Vincent? Wasn’t St. Vincent the name of the woman he was being accused of bedding? Goodness, gracious, this must be a relative. Well, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by this visit, only that it had taken the man so long to get here.
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