Lady Beware by Jo Beverley

know about at all.
    â€œFor my sins, I’m Viscount Darien. When the regiment ended up back in England and enforcing the Riot Act on a bunch of desperate Lancashire weavers, I realized I was serving no useful purpose in the army. I hoped to be more useful by managing my estates, sorting out the finances, and deciding what to do with it all. Including this damned place.”
    â€œIt’s seems a perfectly normal house.”
    â€œThe hell it is. It’s Mad Marcus Cave’s lair.”
    â€œGood Lord, I suppose it is. Sell it?”
    â€œIt’s been available for sale or lease for over a year.”
    â€œNot part of the entail, then?”
    â€œThere is none.”
    Prussock came in, carrying a tray bearing a tall china coffeepot and other necessities. There was even a plate of biscuits of some sort. Interesting, as Darien had never seen a biscuit here before. He wasn’t particularly fond of sweet foods so he hadn’t missed them.
    He should probably scrutinize Mrs. Prussock’s expenditures, especially on the servants’ food, but that seemed low on the list. If they required some indulgences to stay on here, that would be cheap at the price.
    When coffee was served and Prussock left, Van said, “So there was actually something of value to inherit. You did better than I there.”
    Darien relaxed into safe subjects. Van might even have useful experience of property law and management. “Astonishing, isn’t it? Some of the more valuable items have been sold over the years, but the three estates are intact with only small mortgages. They’ve been poorly managed, but they bring in a quarterly income that exceeds the essential outgoings, which is more than I expected. Your family’s estates were in terrible shape?”
    Van smiled wryly. “Drowning in debt. I solved my problems by marrying money. You might want to consider it.”
    Darien laughed. “What heiress would marry a Cave? I’d find it hard enough to find a healthy, sane female of any kind.”
    â€œThat’s nonsense….” But then Van seemed to accept the truth. “Then last night was fortunate. With the Debenhams’ patronage you’ll soon be in better shape. Fighting off the ambitious young ladies, in fact. With a title, you’ll be like a ten-pointer in stag-hunting season.”
    Darien laughed. “Is that supposed to encourage me?” He saw another chance to deflect the conversation. “Done any hunting since you got back?”
    â€œSpent a few weeks in Melton over the winter. It’s become a world all of its own.”
    They talked a while about the mecca of fox hunting, making vague plans for the next season. Then Van took another biscuit and asked, “Why did you speak up on Dare’s behalf last night?”
    Darien recognized that they’d arrived at the subject that had brought Van here, but why?
    â€œIs it so surprising?” he countered.
    â€œHad the impression you hated his guts. In Brussels you avoided him whenever you could.”
    Darien had hoped he’d hidden his feelings better back then. “We didn’t get along at school, and I wanted to avoid discord. With the battle coming.”
    â€œWe were all trying to be cheerful, weren’t we? Sucking life’s pleasures while we could. Dare was good at that. What did lie between you?”
    â€œOld story.”
    Van’s look was searching, but he didn’t insist. “Generous of you to go out of your way to help him, then. It did help. He’s off now to stop opium for good, and the fewer burdens he carries the better.”
    Darien wanted to say something sour, but he’d known other men left with that demon on their backs after lengthy pain. “I hope he wins.”
    Van nodded. “You have a fight on your hands, too. You want to be accepted in London society?”
    â€œDon’t I deserve to be?”
    â€œOf course.” But