Tremont took another quarter hour to review what he knew, reconsider strategy, and look for options that did not exist. The best he could do before rousing his beloved was to remind himself that the meeting would yield more information, and with more information might come more hope.

He continued to ruminate while they dressed and donned cloaks and hats, pondered yet more while they traveled half-way across London, and waited until he’d handed Matilda down from the town coach to pose his question.

“Before we go in there, Matilda, clarify one point for me: If I’m able to wrest only you or Tommie from Merridew’s grasp, but not both, I am to keep hold of Tommie, correct?”

She studied the façade of a staid establishment going a bit seedy around the gutters and walkways. In spring, the row of houses probably acquired an air of genteel repose, but winter revealed age and the beginning of neglect. Only a shiny plaque by the door—Drees and Son—confirmed that they had reached a place of business rather than a domicile.

“Don’t make me choose. It won’t come to that.”

“When has Harry Merridew ever done what you needed him to do?”

“When he married me.”

“And thereafter?”

Matilda drew down the veil on her bonnet. She’d attired herself as many widows did, in dignity and perpetual half mourning. The gray dress and bonnet suited the occasion and the weather.

“Harry is not a devil, Marcus. He’s difficult but, as you say, entirely self-interested, which makes him consistent, and that works to my advantage this time.”

“Then you are prepared to marry me, though it will mean both scandal and poverty?”

She peered at him through her veil. “I am, but how does poverty come into it? I cannot imagine you mishandling your funds, and you describe your holdings as prosperous.”

“You tell me that the man’s first motivation is money. He likes the games and schemes, but the reward is coin. If Harry agrees to divorce you, then as the peer footing the enormous cost for that undertaking, I tip my hand to him. I will be named and sued in the criminal conversation case, and the extent of my wealth will become obvious to Harry.”

Matilda put a hand on the coach as if to steady herself. “It will, but Harry’s not a fool. You are a peer, he’s a commoner, though audacious in his greed.”

“Precisely, he is audacious in his greed, though he probably considers himself blessed with the virtue of abundant ambition. He’s like that fox, slaughtering every biddy in the henhouse when his belly can only hold one. He is welcome to plunder my coffers, Matilda, because my ambition is to spend the rest of my life loving you. We will have enough left to realize that goal, I’ve made sure of it.”

“The meetings with the solicitors?”