Earl of Shefford

My grandmother is the Dowager Countess of Whitton.” She fought the smile that threatened to burst forth at the pale look on Lord Shefford’s face. Doing her best to contain her glee at turning the tables on the arrogant earl, she smoothed out her dress before picking up her favorite cornflower blue porcelain teapot. “Tea, gentlemen?” she offered, as she began pouring the beverage and passing the filled cups to her astonished guests.
Each of the gentlemen sipped their tea, apparently lost in their own quiet contemplation. When Nora had finished the contents of her cup, she rose, forcing them also to stand.
“Gentlemen, I would greatly appreciate the chance to consult with my grandmother. She is due to visit later today.” Adopting a look of utter puzzlement, she peered up at Lord Shefford. “My lord, I can only imagine how you must feel. Allow me to discuss this with my grandmother, for she may wish to consult with you regarding the signed deed.”
“Ahem,” he said, clearing his throat. “I apologize for my apparent rudeness. It was not meant. However, it would seem we have an unexpected tangle here. I will also engage my man of business to look into this matter further.”
Lord Shefford returned his empty cup on the tray at the same time she moved the teapot and inadvertently, Nora touched his bare hand with her own. Quivers of feeling shot straight up her arm causing her to nearly jerk her hand away. She willed calmness over her body, puzzled over the something she had never before experienced. “Certainly, my lord,” Nora choked out, startled when she caught herself staring—most improperly—into the gentleman’s grey eyes. Not that I would… yet if I could ever be accepted as a viable match for a gentleman of his standing, I would not mind one who looked as fine as he does.
The soft telltale scuffle of footsteps in the hall interrupted her thoughts and drew her attention to the door. Unnoticed, Mrs. Simpkins had left it open to the room, giving some semblance of propriety. Meeting three men alone in her parlor had not been anticipated, and with minimal staff and no lady’s maid, Mrs. Simpkins probably stood close enough to offer a chaperone’s assistance. Despite initial frustration, she found herself appreciative of the older woman’s efforts to add a level of decorum for reputation’s sake.
When the three gentlemen had finally taken their leave, she leaned against the door and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. She realized it was only a reprieve. Surely, Grandmama would have some solution?

Chapter 5
“Well, that did not proceed as I would have predicted,” Bergen observed in a jovial voice. “By golly, though, I enjoyed her spunk!” he added as the three men made their way to the carriage.
“If I have followed this situation correctly, Lord Whitton has not only deceived his family, but he may also have forged a deed,” Morray propounded. “I know the Countess to be quite a force among the ton—she differs greatly from her wastrel son.”
“While it is best not jump to conclusions, instinct tells me that Whitton has forged the deed. Still, I shall ask Thomas Yarrow, my man of business, to scrutinize it and advise me on a proper course of action.” Colin stuffed the questionable deed into his pocket.
“A sound plan,” agreed Bergen. “I bet Yarrow has come across such doings before—perhaps, even, with Whitton. It would be helpful to know.”
“In our business, we have had dealings with a great number of rogues, but I have never encountered a peer forging a deed to cover his gambling debts. I cannot even credit Whitton with having originality,” muttered Colin in a sarcastic tone. He was still smarting from the astonishing interchange with the headmistress of a school that was occupying what should have been the empty building he owned. Bergen had been right. He felt embarrassed for having blindly trusted the man’s deed, especially after he had tried to kill him.
“One might assume,” Morray began in a soft voice, “that Whitton’s attempt to kill you transpired to conceal an illegality. We had assumed him to be bedeviled as a result of disappointing his family; however, it would appear he wanted to hide a more shameful act. Still, I am not inclined to think it planned. I see him more as an impulsive sort. And that fits his reputation. I do not think this was premeditated.”
“I imagine the Countess will petition to see me, and before she does, I desire to have more facts before me. I suspect you are correct, Morray, and this deed may not be valid,” agreed Colin, climbing into the carriage. His annoyance was rapidly turning into anger. “Mayhap I should try to be beforehand and call on her first.”
Following closely behind Morray, Bergen snorted as he seated himself on the opposite bench.
“Her granddaughter is no shy miss. Rarely do you meet a woman who can deliver such a guileful blow without losing a hint of composure. Her grandmother would be proud, I think. The Countess is known to be quite charming and also a shrewd negotiator, so be warned.”
“I hate to be a stickler, and I would be less inclined to cut up stiff had he not tried to kill me. Yet now, I find, I am more determined than ever that his debt be honored. This deed,” he went on, patting the pocket holding the paper, “whether fake or real, should serve as a credible substitution for the debt he owes. My father was friends with the Countess’ husband. He always considered the Earl an honest gentleman—a gentleman very different from his son.”
“I have encountered Whitton in some of my dealings. I am afraid that his… ah… habits of late have driven the man towards some unscrupulous people. His level of desperation does not surprise me. What will surprise me is if the deed you hold is not a forgery. The headmistress sounded very certain of her advantage,” Morray countered in an unaffected tone.
Colin smiled despite