“
Spearing a quail egg with her fork, Evie popped it into her mouth. “What is to be done about Mr. Egan?”
His shoulders lifted in a graceful shrug. “As soon as he is sober enough to walk, he’ll be dismissed.”
Evie brushed away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her cheek. “There is no one to replace him.”
“Yes, there is. Until a suitable manager can be found, I’ll run the club.”
The quail egg seemed to stick in her throat, and Evie choked a little. Hastily she reached for her wine, washed it down, and regarded him with bulging eyes. How could he say something so preposterous? “You can’t.”
“I can hardly do worse than Egan. He hasn’t managed a damned thing in months… before long, this place will be falling down around our ears.”
“You said you hated work!”
“So I did. But I feel that I should try it at least once, just to be certain.”
She began to stammer in her anxiety. “You’ll pl-play at this for a few days, and then you’ll tire of it.”
“I can’t afford to tire of it, my love. Although the club is still profitable, its value is in decline. Your father has a load of outstanding debt that must be settled. If the people who owe him can’t muster the cash, we’ll have to take property, jewelry, artwork… whatever they can manage. Having a good idea of the value of things, I can negotiate some acceptable settlements. And there are other problems I haven’t yet mentioned… Jenner has a string of failing Thoroughbreds that have lost a fortune at Newmarket. And he’s made some insane investments— ten thousand pounds he put into an alleged gold mine in Flintshire— a swindle that even a child should have seen through.”
“Oh God,” Evie murmured, rubbing her forehead. “He’s been ill— people have taken advantage—”
“Yes. And now, even if we wanted to sell the club, we couldn’t without first putting it in order. If there were an alternative, believe me, I would find it. But this place is a sieve, with no one who is capable or willing to stop the holes. Except for me.”
“You know nothing about filling holes!” she cried, appalled by his arrogance.
Sebastian responded with a bland smile and the slightest arch of one brow. Before he could open his mouth to reply, she clapped her hands over her ears. "Oh, don't say it, don't!" When she saw that he was obligingly holding his silence-though a devilish gleam remained in his eyes-she lowered her hands cautiously.
”
”