Defying the Earl (17 page)

“I’ll triple your payment, Dash. Fifteen thousand pounds.”

Val’s stomach plummeted to his heels. He finished his brandy and turned to Rigby with a solemn word on his tongue, but the earl continued before he could reply.

“I know you’re in need of the money and this
matchbreaking
business served as a ploy to obtain quick funds. Your associate made it clear the dire condition of your finances. If you have any desire to continue this venture, I’ll put in a good word for your service which will guarantee you more opportunities to recover from your misery, perhaps even wipe out your existing debt.”

Valerian took a deep breath, his nerves on edge.

“Unconvinced?” The earl approached, wearing the grin of a scoundrel. “I’ll raise your payment to twenty-five thousand and call it done.”

“Who would have thought Fiona’s misplaced kiss would cement Leonard’s feelings rather than destroy their fragile bond? They’re both besotted and bewitched, and I couldn’t be happier.” The marchioness smiled wide. “Leonard plans to propose to Lady Fiona by this week’s end and since I’m for our country estate to oversee wedding plans, I thought this meeting of immediate importance. I’ve great work ahead. I must plan a celebration like no other and appease my disgruntled husband simultaneously, but with no doubt Lord Rigby will see the light. To that end, this belongs to you.” She untied the strands of her reticule and removed a folded letter on thick ivory paper, offering it forward with another grand smile.

Wilhelmina’s fingers trembled as she accepted the payment. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your discretion. These funds will be well spent and do a world of good for a loved one in my family.”

“No need for explanations, my dear. The ton is full of private arrangements and individual endeavors.” She smiled in a knowing manner. “Speaking of which, I have a dear friend with a daughter and a particularly difficult situation. A judicious approach is the exact recipe needed for Lady Worsley.” Lady Rigby leaned closer, her eyes shifting right and left as if to ensure they remained unheard. “The lady in question has recently returned from the States where she fled with a beau and an unexpected pregnancy several years ago. I despair to say the child did not live through the birthing process and her union with the gentleman dissolved soon after. The lady remained in America allowing the scandal here in London to diminish and, I surmise, in hope she’d find happiness on the continent, but she’s returned to our fair city recently with marriage on her mind. Her mother remains consumed with worry her daughter will make an impetuous choice and repeat the mistake that marred her good standing years ago. I took the liberty of explaining our special agreement. My friend insisted I forward her calling card. If you would arrange a meeting, I’m sure your services will be put to good use. The years have passed, but they have not diminished the daughter’s comely appearance. I can’t attest to her temperament, but how difficult could it be to arrange a match for a stunning beauty? And of course there’s the matter of your compensation. Lady Worsley needn’t concern herself with finances. Her husband left her the security of a lifetime of funds, the perfect enticement for any suitor for whom she’s set her cap.”

Pride surged through Wilhelmina, her timid endeavor of creating a network of matchmaking opportunities now launched on its way to becoming a lucrative business. She couldn’t be more pleased. With profuse thanks, she accepted the pale pink calling card and gathered her reticule. “I’m so pleased we were able to meet today. Good luck with the wedding plans and with Lord Rigby too.” She gently pushed in her chair and turned to leave.

As she exited the book emporium, a lightness carried her step; one that hadn’t been there earlier. Thrilled at the potential of further matchmaking and delighted Lady Rigby held her in such high regard as to recommend her service; Wilhelmina struggled to keep the beaming smile from her face as she strode down Oxford Street, her chin held high.

“Why have I been cursed with the most irresponsible brother on the planet? Jasper, are you listening to me?” Valerian paced the width of the drawing room, his temper barely contained at having arrived at the Barnaby Street town house to discover Randolph and Jasper insensate with sleep, the remnants of a night filled with rabble-rousing evident. “Do you not comprehend the severity of our position?”

Jasper’s eyes lit with what could only be described as specious recognition chased by an immediate flash of culpability. “I do. I do. Only a sap-skull would ignore our financial difficulties. I’ve made sure to curb all spending. I haven’t gambled in weeks nor did I arrange this revel-rout.” He threw his arms wide indicating the room where they stood. Then in a quick switch of attitude his expression grew stern. “If you’re intent on raising a breeze, I suggest you ring a peal over Randolph as he’s the one who instigated last night. He might give the impression of being well and healed from his broken heart, but he suffers and seeks distraction.” He glanced toward the staircase with what could only be interpreted as a dramatic expression of concern then flicked his eyes to Valerian. “Of course, Randolph could grow tired of your conservative civil whiskers and ask us both to leave. It might prove more prudent to swallow your spleen and endure a few incidents of rabble-rousing if it extends our stay. We’ve next to nothing as you’ve grown fond of reminding me.”

Valerian’s brows lifted in a show of sarcastic question. “I see. What choice do we have but to tolerate the circumstances?” His voice held a strident tone that could be attributed to sleepless nights and recurring visions of destitution. Meanwhile his brother’s reaction portrayed a casual lack of concern glossed over with an insouciant smile. “This is not a game. We owe the Kirby Park staff back wages. We’ve sold most all properties Father left behind, and we’re indebted to Cook’s reformed inebriate brother. I have nothing left.” A pulse of regret resurrected the image of his mother’s charm, but Val ignored the emotion and continued his diatribe. “We are in dire straits and you’re intent on worsening our condition.”

“See here, Dash. I’m working hard at making things better.” Jasper sounded affronted. “I’ve secured an investment—”

“No more investments. No more inventions. Curb your spending and keep in mind we’re barely scraping by. It’s embarrassing, Jasper.”

“Pride. Pride has gotten the better of you.” Jasper muttered the words with a snigger. “Embarrassing is throwing your arms wide mid-poem and upsetting the servant’s hors d’oeuvre tray. Poor Randolph, he was mortified, when all he meant was to rehearse some sentimental dribble in practice for his lady-love.” Several beats of silence followed before Jasper marshaled a solemn tone. “I take it your meeting with Rigby ignited your querulous mood. I thought the old stuffed coat wanted Leo and Fiona together? Isn’t he pleased?”

“Hardly. Parliament has proven as fickle as a light skirt’s attention.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I’ve decided on the pale pink.” Fiona Nobles raised the porcelain teacup to eye level, a smile blooming across her face as she showed Wilhelmina the pattern she favored. “The rosebuds around the rim are the veriest thing. Wouldn’t you agree, Whimsy?”

“Charming indeed, but I remain unsure Leonard will enjoy drinking his Earl Grey from such a feminine selection?” Wilhelmina’s smiled matched Fiona’s. Not only had Leonard proposed on the morning, but Lady Rigby, motivated by pure joy in the outcome, had insisted on taking her daughter-in-law-to-be shopping in celebration of the event. As before, Wilhelmina was caught up in the reverie and found herself invited into the brigade of determined trousseau-fillers, Fiona’s mother the fourth member of their jubilant quartet. They stood now in Dalton’s China Showcase, deliberating over cups and saucers as if Parliament were involved.

“My son will drink from whatever you choose, Fiona, lest that become a point of contention. I suggest you select two different patterns. That way he’ll have no complaint and you’ll possess the tea set that has produced your lovely smile.”

“I haven’t stopped grinning since your son professed his feelings.” Fiona’s words rose on a giddy note.

“I haven’t either.” Lady Rigby’s melodic concurrence brought another round of laughter. “Let the public consider us daft. It matters little to me.”

Wilhelmina eyed Fiona, and the truth of her statement was evident in every aspect of her person. Her eyes shone, her skin glowed with a fresh blush, and her hands fluttered with nervous excitement. Pride blossomed and warmed Wilhelmina’s soul. Indeed, she was a tad responsible for bringing about such joy. Long talks and blunt honesty had served her well in her friendship with Fiona albeit the two lovebirds were well on their way to romance before Wilhelmina ever entered the scene.

Lady Rigby’s exuberance added another layer to her satisfaction. Had Valerian had the opportunity to help her cause and speak to Leonard? His benevolent offer to encourage Leonard in the right direction may have been the final prompt needed for the gentleman’s proposal this morning.

“We’ll purchase the Ansley Rose service, as well as the blue pearlware.” Lady Rigby gestured to the shopkeeper at the counter in the same manner the queen might beckon a servant. “And wrap them extra well. I will not gift my future daughter-in-law with flawed china.”

“To think I believed myself brokenhearted.” Fiona turned to Wilhelmina in an aside, glancing toward the sales counter where her mother and Lady Rigby directed the clerks. “I cannot thank you enough for helping me realize how true Leonard’s feelings were and how silly I behaved in my attempt to make him jealous.”

“Oh, I suppose we all act capriciously when our emotions are in play. What matters most is the two of you have found each other and declared your most cherished emotions.”

“Very true.” Fiona faced Wilhelmina, eyes expectant. “Despite our short friendship, I feel an affinity toward you, Whimsy, and I do hope you find the same joy I’m experiencing. You deserve the same attention given to your heart.”

“Thank you, Fiona. That’s kind of you to mention.” She glanced to the door where Lady Rigby motioned for the driver of her carriage to collect the packages and store them in the boot. “I think I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your afternoon. It’s a pleasant day for a walk and I’m of the mood for fresh air. Aunt Kate’s town house is not far from here at all. Do you mind terribly if I leave you alone with two indefatigable mothers?”

“Certainly not. I doubt there is much that could dampen my spirits.” Fiona gathered Wilhelmina in a tight hug of friendship. “I will see you tonight at my parents’ party. It’s a small celebratory gathering for my closest family, a few cousins and our dearest friends, so that includes you.” She withdrew and glanced out the large pane window as if assessing the city beyond the safety of the china shop. “Do be careful. You may be only a block or two from your destination, but I’ll need your promise you’ll be prudent in your travels.”

“Of course, Fiona, you have my vow.” Wilhelmina pulled on her gloves and with a parting smile turned to leave.

No sooner had she exited did her thoughts return to Valerian and the question of whether he would be in attendance at the Nobles’ fete or if, as Fiona stated, it was a gathering of the most intimate kind. What did it matter anyway? The earl was not shopping for a wife any more than Wilhelmina shopped for a husband; although their stolen kiss in the wine cellar convinced her thoroughly that soul mates existed, no matter how often one might scoff at the notion.

She stepped across the curb and avoided the deep divots where a carriage wheel rutted the roadway. A spontaneous smile reminded of her horrendous introduction to Dashwood, dragging him into the mud and mistaking his arm for a wood railing. Good lord, he was the most handsome sort. When he’d wrapped her in his embrace in the wine cellar she’d felt intoxicated beyond any liquor’s capabilities.

And why wouldn’t a dashing earl of a gracious estate wish to get married and produce an heir? Dashwood seemed quick to label talk of romance as nonsense, his views of love somber and dismissive. Still he’d offered to assist her; though whether he cared or desired solely to please her remained an unanswered question. And why would he take an interest in her welfare? Why would he kiss her?

Her heart produced questions faster than her mind could reason them away.

Marriage represented safety, security and a future of love and acceptance. Livie’s health remained Wilhelmina’s primary concern, yet one did not exclude the other. If she were to marry well and find an understanding, compassionate husband, Livie could reside in their home and once improved, have her pick of the ballroom to secure a marriage with honest affection, born of choice not imposed due to financial insecurity or familial obligation.

Wilhelmina exhaled a deep breath as her slippers marked pace against the cobblestones. How would her life be altered now if she were in the coach that night with Livie? If she were in the coach
instead
of Livie? She struggled against a wave of regret, yet a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Would she ever recover from the constant guilt and recrimination that lived in the shadows of her soul? At times her despair was palpable, as if a living, breathing thing that took up space in her bedchamber, consuming air and voicing a strong opinion late at night when she was alone with her sorrow, brave enough to confront emotion, yet too weak to challenge her memory.

The night of the accident, her temper had been nothing short of a childish tantrum. She blinked her eyes tight as if to clear away the long-endured ache of regret.

Pausing to regain composure, she glanced right and left before crossing the street and found she stood in front of The Serendipity Shop despite Aunt Kate’s town house lying in the opposite direction. Her silent musings had sent her off course and landed her here unaware.

Approaching the window with quiet curiosity, Wilhelmina was surprised to discover the shade on the door drawn, the knob locked. It was too early for merchants to close to the bustling public and advantageous opportunity of selling their wares. She arched her hand across her brow and peered in the large store window, her eyes taking note of every item on display until at last she located the long velvet board where jewelry and other precious keepsakes were offered. A man’s pocket watch on a long silver chain was pinned to the center, a pair of jade earbobs with matching hair combs to the right, but the top of the tray, where she’d watched the merchant attach her mother’s bracelet, now lay empty. Her heart gave a panicked flutter at the suggestion some wise shopper had already swooped in and purchased the sentimental keepsake. Only one small item remained on the tray. A pearl teardrop charm. The glint from the waning sun and distance to the tray prevented closer examination of the item. It would be a perfect companion to her mother’s bracelet and the notion that it belonged on the empty filigree loop poked at her brain with insistence.