“And you need help getting everything set, don’t you?” his sister asked.
Miss Gohar curtsied very neatly and spoke in a quiet voice. “It’s all very rushed,” she said. “I have only just arrived in London and—”
“Already, you have an invitation to an exclusive event. How exciting.”
But then Geoffrey had to insert himself into the conversation like the boor he was. “You came all the way from Berlin alone? Without a chaperone?”
Oh hell. What to say to that? But Miss Gohar had a ready answer. Her expression fell, and he believed her eyes actually watered. “I traveled with my grandmother, but the French air did not suit her.” Her expression took on a tragic look. “She is resting with relations in Calais, but she pressed me to continue on. She did not want me to miss my chance, you see.”
“Of course not,” Diana said. “That was very gallant of her and very brave of you to travel the rest of the way alone.”
Clearly, Amber had a talent for the boards, but in this case, it was very helpful. Elliott flashed his sister a smile. “Could you help us, please?”
“You mean find a bedroom in this huge empty house?” She smiled sweetly at Miss Gohar. “It’s just me and my husband, you see, with bedchambers everywhere.” She looked up at her butler. “Simpson, could you see that a room is prepared?”
The butler bowed. “Right away, my lady.”
“Why don’t you go with him?” Elliott suggested. “Show Miss Gohar about while I take a moment to speak with Geoffrey.”
His sister nodded, flashing him a grateful smile. She knew he intended to act as the brother he hadn’t been when she was seventeen. He only hoped it would work.
Both men waited until the ladies departed. Geoffrey made his way to the brandy and poured himself a large measure. Elliott waited until the man filled his glass and turned around to lean heavily against the sideboard. His expression was flippant, and his smile oily. And that made Elliott’s protective instincts burn.
“What were you arguing about with my sister?” Elliott asked as he adopted an equally casual pose.
Geoffrey waved his glass at a heavy candelabra on the desk. “She objected to my pinching the silver.”
Elliott felt his jaw drop in shock. “You admit to being a thief?”
“I am nothing of the sort!” Geoffrey exploded. “It is my silver!” He drained the last of his glass. “My brandy, my furnishings, my home! If I require the silver, then I am within my rights to take it.”
“No, Geoffrey, it’s not,” Elliott said firmly. “It is your father’s until his death and after the will has been read, and not one moment before.”
“Well, then,” he said as he stepped forward. His face was ruddy with drink, which meant the brandy was not his first glass today. Worse, the menace in him was palpable. “I find myself in arrears with my landlord. If I cannot pay him, then I shall be forced to return to the family home to reside. I will move in here. Immediately.”
With Diana? And her nearly bed-ridden husband? That was not acceptable. “This home is occupied. I suggest you return to the family seat in Yorkshire.”
“That moldering old place? Haven’t been there in ages and have no desire to return.” His grin was especially hateful. “So, if you have no wish for me to be in close quarters with my dear step-mama, then perhaps you could see your way to helping me out?”
The blackguard was larger and older than his step-mama, and there was no telling what he would do if he lived here. The idea was insupportable. But neither could they give in to blackmail. Geoffrey was an endless well of need. If Elliott once gave in to paying his bills, then nothing would stop the demands or the threats.
“And that candelabra,” Elliott said, gesturing to the heavy thing. “That will cover you?”
“Heavens, no. I had thought to hit my landlord over the head with it,” he said as if it were a joke, but with Geoffrey, one could never tell.
Elliott was beginning to see the rationality in letting the man pinch the silver. If the other choice was to have him harassing his sister night and day, then why not let the man have his inheritance early? Except that every bone in his body objected to the very idea. He took that moral outrage and his complete loathing of the man and poured it into his next words.
“Very well,” he said softly. “Take the candelabra now and, by all means, kill your landlord with it. I, for one, will relish seeing you hang for murder.”
Geoffrey grinned and sauntered over to the silver. But Elliott wasn’t done. He crossed the room quickly and set his hand around the heavy piece just before Geoffrey did. And he used his considerable strength to keep it on the desk.
“Take it now and never come here again.”
“My father is dying,” Geoffrey said. “I must be here.”
He was probably thinking of bashing his father over the head. “I don’t care. You will not see my sister, you will not speak to her, and you will not even breathe the same air as her.”
“Or what?”
“Or I shall beat you with your own silver.” He put on his own oily grin. “I know how to do it and not hang.” That was a lie. He had no idea how, but he knew someone who did, and he would visit Lord Lucifer before the sun rose tomorrow. “Have I made myself clear?”
Geoffrey didn’t look in the least bit intimidated. Instead, he drained his brandy glass. “If you think to frighten me, old boy, recall that I have more connections in the underworld than you. And if I choose to murder anyone, not a soul would know except me.”
“I am not your father,” Elliott said firmly. “I do not issue empty threats.”
“Hmm,” Geoffrey drawled. “And neither of you understand how far a desperate man will go to get what’s his.”
“It’s not yours.”
“Yet.”
If ever a single word sounded like a threat, it was that one. By his own admission, Geoffrey was desperate, and that made him dangerous. Elliott revised his earlier estimate. He would speak with Lord Lucifer within the hour. Meanwhile, he released his hold on the candelabra.
“Take the silver and be gone. You are not welcome here.”
Geoffrey grabbed the heavy piece and brandished it aloft. “Good heavens, you sound like that’s supposed to be a revelation. I haven’t been welcomed in my father’s house since I was in leading strings.” Then he moved casually to the door, picking up the ormolu clock on the way. “Your sister, on the other hand,” he said with a leer, “I find her to be most welcome. Most welcome, indeed.”
It was a lie because Geoffrey’s entire family had objected to the marriage. None of the children had welcomed her nor been remotely kind, which was especially hard as she was younger than the lot of them. But that was water under the bridge. Right now, Elliott had to find a solution for his sister that didn’t involve someone risking the hangman’s noose.
Fortunately, the staff appeared to be on his sister’s side. The butler, Simpson, had been incredibly anxious to have Elliott intercede. In fact, the old guy stood sentry, and his jaw clenched as Geoffrey grabbed his hat and departed.
Meanwhile, Elliott joined Simpson at the door. “Your staff seems to be somewhat thin of sturdy, young footmen,” he said. “It would be a kindness, I think, for you to provide employment for our veterans. They need good work to do.”