Defying the Earl (16 page)

Her gaze lingered on a tall mahogany armoire, the surface piled high with floral band boxes, the top one decorated with bright red ladybirds, beside a cobalt vase overfilled with a bouquet of fresh fiddleheads. The arrangement was huge and struck her as an odd choice, hardly in season, yet the ferns crowded the vase in abundance, a reminder of childhood.

The tabby leapt with grace from the interior of a leather suitcase where it previously reclined, to the upholstered cushion of a carved oak rocking chair, the action setting the rocker in motion, the rails tapping against the paneled wall in tune with her rapid pulse.

Hadn’t a bell sounded when she’d entered? She’d sworn she heard one, yet if no one occupied the front soon, she would leave, a strong note of doubt permeating her resolve to sell her mother’s bracelet despite the anticipated payment due from Lady Rigby. Until the engagement became public knowledge, no money was to be had, while Dr. Morris had increased Livie’s sessions as a result of her improvement. It all came at a price to Aunt Kate. While sentimentality offered a convenient excuse to succumb to a change of heart, love for her aunt and sister proved the final adjudication which led her to the shop with determined verve. Pawning the bracelet was the closest she could come to parting with it until other funds were secured.

And then there was the promise of assistance from Earl Dashwood.
Valerian
. She’d never addressed a gentleman by his given name. A little thrill coursed through her whenever she considered the familiarity. When she dared relive their interlude in the wine cellar, all coherent thought evaporated in the heated memory of his kiss. If she lived to be one hundred, she doubted she’d forget the magic of that kiss. She took a much needed breath and shook her head with purpose.

The tabby might have perceived her loss of focus as it launched into an agile leap, despite its corpulence, and landed on the countertop not twelve inches from where she stood. Startled, Wilhelmina took an instinctive step backward, her eyes trailing after the cat as it traipsed across the glass, slinked over the windowsill and disappeared out of sight behind the rear partition.

Not a breath later a compact, bald man appeared; his outlandish mustache the exact shade of the feline and a quick reminder of her father’s appearance. His broad smile echoed his greeting and placed her more at ease.

“Good morning. May I help you?”

“I’m not exactly sure.” Timidity, her ongoing nemesis, tainted her reply.

“Personal information is not necessary for us to conduct business. A variety of reasons bring gentle ladies and gentlemen to frequent my shop. I remember every face, every item in my store, no matter the absence of formality.”

Wilhelmina eyed the shopkeeper with a wary grin while in her peripheral vision she noticed a shadow flitter along the cabinetry soffit. Could it be the cat prowling after an adventurous mouse or a trick of inconsistent sunlight flittering through the front window?

“How may I assist you?”

She swallowed a niggling trepidation. It wasn’t the shop owner who unsettled her, his smile was congenial and his store bright and cheery. It was more so the mysterious manner in which he questioned or unquestioned her presence in the store.

“I’ve come to sell my mother’s bracelet.” She pushed the words out; concerned she might flee before completing her intention. “It’s very special, but…”

“No need to explain the circumstances, dear. Discretion is a valued attribute.” He placed a small silver tray atop the counter and lined the bottom with a linen handkerchief he’d plucked from his breast pocket. “Let’s have a look at it if we’re to determine its worth.”

With slight reluctance, Wilhelmina extended her right arm, undid the buttons at her wrist, and drew her glove over her palm; then with a quick motion to force the deed without consideration, she released the clasp, the bracelet falling gently to the tray between them.

“What do we have here? How very intriguing.” He pulled the tray closer and she stifled a gasp as with a flick of his wrist he lifted a gold-framed monocle to his right eye and examined the bracelet at closer proximity. The tabby reappeared and with startling agility leapt to the counter, brushing against the shopkeeper’s shoulder, although the man appeared unbothered by the intrusion, his focus as concentrated as ever.

At last, after what seemed excruciatingly long yet likely was no more than a few minutes, he lowered the monocle and eyed her with another broad grin. “A very lovely piece. Are you sure you wish to part with it?”

Her hesitation provided explanation.

“I see.”

“No.” Wilhelmina’s objection startled both of them. “It’s not what you perceive. I do wish to sell it. The money will provide care for my sister and it’s only misplaced emotion that causes my disinclination. I apologize.” She took a deep breath to solidify her composure. “The bracelet belonged to my mother who wore it always and left it to me when she passed away. As a child I fancied each charm had a story, as if a wish to be made.” A fanciful smile curled her mouth as a slight blush warmed her cheeks. “I suppose that is why Father labeled me Whimsy. I’ve always had an overactive imagination and a penchant for things unexplainable.”

“I see.” The shopkeeper brushed his finger along the length of the bracelet and faced her, his eyes expressing ageless wisdom. “It is very finely crafted. The scrolled filigree loop holding each charm to the chain is exquisite. A pity one charm has been lost. I wonder what it portrayed.”

“I’ve questioned the same, as if together they revealed an untold story.” She touched the charm closest to her. “I think the heart represents true love.”

“And the key?”

“I’m undecided about that one.” Wilhelmina touched the charm, complete with a tiny faceted sapphire at its center. “Perhaps a new beginning or unlocked secret.”

“You do have a flair for imagining.” He gathered the bracelet in his palm and walked to a wood cabinet that had escaped her notice. She watched as the shopkeeper removed a small brass key from his vest pocket, opened the case, and selected a narrow velvet tray. “Here we are. The perfect bed for your cherished heirloom. Now let’s discuss price. Unfortunately I can’t give payment for emotional worth.”

“Of course, I understand.” She dropped her eyes to the countertop, uncomfortable with their open discussion of money. Yet her conscience reminded she needed the funds.

“In my estimation this bracelet means a great deal to you and costs you dearly to part with it.”

She perked up, focused on stating her goal. “I anticipate returning to your store with ample funds to reclaim it before it is sold.”

“Many customers share the same intention. I hope for your sake it proves true. Of course your bracelet is destined to be displayed in my main window where it will draw attention.”

“I understand.” She cleared her throat against a sudden rush of emotion; then matched his intent stare, noticing for the first time the comforting twinkle in the shopkeeper’s blue eyes.

“I’m not in business to cause unhappiness. Are you having second thoughts?”

Third and fourth thoughts were more accurate, but she had come this far and vowed to see the venture through, otherwise all she’d have accomplished was a waste of emotion and another serving of self-recrimination.

“No.” She nodded her head for emphasis. “My mind is made up. Thank you for your patience.” A loud purr sounded from somewhere behind the counter. More than a little confused, Wilhelmina completed the transaction and left, glancing over her right shoulder as an afterthought, and all at once troubled by the sight of the shopkeeper at work rearranging the front display window.

Returning home Wilhelmina found Livie circling the modest perimeter of the sitting room with the assistance of her nurse. Wilhelmina paused at the entryway in quiet admiration of the effort her sister put forth without complaint. It was evident the exercise strained her yet she persevered. This scene justified Wilhelmina’s morning errand in full strength and provided renewed hope.

“Look at your brilliant progress.” Rushing to her sister’s side, she replaced the nurse’s support and looped arms with Livie as they completed the final steps that returned them to the settee. The nurse withdrew and the ladies settled comfortably side by side.

“Shall I ring for tea? Are you thirsty?” Wilhelmina removed her gloves and set them aside. “Has Aunt Kate gone visiting?”

Livie caught her forearm in a tight grasp. “Where is Mother’s bracelet?”

“Oh dear, your perspicuity astounds me. I thought to tell you later, but that matters little now. I pawned it this morning.” Wilhelmina gently pulled her arm free and made busy with smoothing the folds of her skirt although her voice rang with unstrained conviction. “I hope to reclaim it once Lady Rigby is ensured her son will marry Fiona. I’ve an appointment with her later this afternoon. Perhaps she’ll see fit to compensate my efforts without a formal announcement, because who knows how long that might take? In the meantime, the money I received by pawning the bracelet will serve as insurance your treatments will continue without interruption or further financial strain on Aunt Kate’s account.”

“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” It was difficult to read Livie’s disposition.

“Perhaps. To avoid paying for a hackney I walked home from The Serendipity Shop. I had plenty of time to think.” An emotional smile trembled on her lips.

“Thank you, Whimsy. You are the dearest sister anyone could want.”

Wilhelmina wished she could agree, but everlasting sentiment dragged at her heart and threatened to break it with an outpouring of regret. If only she had been in the carriage on the night of the accident. She could have helped her sister, aided her parents, and sought help. Instead the three had endured excruciating circumstances, her sister tortured for endless hours by not only the trauma of their parents’ death, but the injury and subsequent damage to her legs. She should have been in that carriage. She would have been, if her emotions hadn’t interfered with her better judgment.

A shudder of regret rippled down her spine and she bit her lower lip to prevent tears from spilling over. Livie never complained, never harbored bitter feelings, still self-recrimination lived ripe in Wilhelmina’s soul. Considering the circumstance, selling a bracelet was the least that she could do and yet she’d selfishly avoided the act. Had Mother known Livie suffered with significant impairment after the accident, she would have wanted it this way. What right had Wilhelmina to cling to the bracelet for as long as she had? Truly, she was unforgiveable.

It was that same morning when things took an unexpected turn for the worse. Valerian had just returned from riding Arcadia through Hyde Park. As was usual, the area brimmed with activity. Gatherings of picnickers, gentleman aiming to be noticed and coquettish debutantes displayed in open carriages overflowed on the walkways and narrowly skirted the bridle path. Amongst the flurry, he delighted to see Leonard and Fiona as they strolled through the gardens along the grand walk, her chaperone in tow at a considerable distance. A formal announcement seemed forthcoming as the couple had found their way to true love despite matchmaker and
matchbreaker
efforts.

But as he climbed the steps to Randolph’s town house, a messenger approached with a note from Lord Rigby requesting he come at once. Having just returned Arcadia to the stable around the corner, Val summoned a hired hack and relaxed against the squabs, his mind suggesting and discarding reasons Rigby would need to see him with immediacy. Anticipation of the tidy sum that would soon bring him closer to financial redemption threatened jubilant emotion, but he tamped it down. Best to hear Rigby out before pouring champagne.

Once he arrived, the butler led him to the study, offered him refreshments and left. Hardly a moment passed before Rigby entered, closed the doors and approached with a contemplative expression.

“Excellent, Dashwood, you’ve come straightaway.” With a nod toward the sideboard, Rigby crossed the room to where he poured two drinks and offering one forward. “Circumstances have changed.”

The ominous announcement caught Val by surprise, but he remained quiet, knowing Rigby would be fast to reveal the facts.

“As you are aware, since the Napoleonic War ended, the schedule for increased and reduced taxation has been a point of contention between the House of Commons and House of Lords. My comrades and I have worked to fortify a stronghold on the need for higher taxes only to be opposed at every avenue. Admittedly farfetched, my frustration brought me to you in a quest to betroth Leonard to Fiona and also bond my cause to the support needed to see necessary taxation laws passed through Parliament. Are you following?”

“Absolutely.” Valerian took another sip of his brandy. “You must be pleased by the most recent turn of events. I understand your son’s proposal for Lady Fiona’s hand in marriage is imminent.” Would Rigby wait until the banns were posted or would he surrender the monies today? Perhaps it was too early to anticipate payment, although his mother’s charm wouldn’t remain in the pawn shop window indefinitely. There was a very good chance it had already caught the eye of an intuitive shopper.

“You need to know the all of it.” Rigby shot back the contents of his glass before he continued with asperity. “Lord Nobles has outmaneuvered my manipulation by giving the appearance he was allied with my proposal and thereby lolling me into complacency although he held no such loyalty to my party.” Anger dropped his voice low, his words rich with rancor. “Now as the vote grows nearer and I’ve lessened my campaign by anticipating his support, I’ve learned he’d never agreed with my point of view and will oppose whatever policy I suggest. I endured five hours of stiff-backed posturing and speculation brought before the cabinet, whilst knowing I’ve made a hash of it, thwarted by a deceitful pettifogger.” He shook his head in blatant temper. “Leonard must do his duty. Under no circumstances will I have my son betrothed to Lady Fiona. I need their relationship destroyed in retaliation of Nobles’ subterfuge.”

The earl had worked himself into a fury, his face mottled and his grimace firm. Valerian experienced a sinking sensation that formed at his throat and settled somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. Hell’s teeth. If he pursued this scheme he would not only destroy Leonard and Fiona’s happiness, but Wilhelmina and her sister’s security as well. He’d never be able to live with himself.