Wishing For Rainbows (Historical Romance) (19 page)

“I should have gotten to know him a little more,” Ursula whispered. “I felt that I could trust him. He is the son of the local Lord. Gentry. I shouldn’t have allowed matters to progress the way they have. It’s my fault.”

They lapsed into silence until they reached home, where they took a seat in the private parlour.

“We are all to blame.” Adelaide handed her a sherry and took a seat opposite her in front of the fire. “Now, what do you want to do about it? I don’t think we should say anything to your father. I know this changes any offer he might accept for you, but it must remain a secret for now. I have to tell you, Ursula, I don’t agree with your father’s behaviour of late. I mean, ordering you to find a husband is downright archaic behaviour, and not something I would expect from Jeremiah. However, he has pushed you to at least get out and about, and that is what you have done. Given that you have already been ruined, I think that you cannot actively seek a husband while you are here. Your lack of purity would raise a few eyebrows on your wedding night.”

“I have no intention of marrying anyone,” Ursula interrupted. “I was opposed to marriage even before I met Trenton. Most of my life has been dictated by others. Where I go, whom I see, who I talk to is all directed for me. Here is not much better because I cannot even walk down the street without having to remember at least ten different set of rules and restrictions. It is quite claustrophobic at times, which is ridiculous really, but there it is. The last thing I will ever agree to do is exchange the dictates of my father for the dictates of a husband.”

“Quite,” Adelaide murmured. “I quite agree.”

Ursula lifted her brows and stared at her aunt who nodded.

“My sentiments exactly. You take after my side of the family. I have already said that you can remain here for as long as you want to. Meantime, I think that we should wait and see what Jeremiah does. If he pushes you to go along with a wedding to a man of his choosing then I think he has to be told, although I shall leave it to you as to how much you wish to tell him.”

“You won’t mention it to him otherwise?”

“I think that it has to remain between us. If you do meet anyone you wish to have a future with then we will discuss this matter further. Meantime, you must tell me what you intend to do with regards to Trenton. He is aware now that you have seen him tonight. I think it is safe to assume that he will call by here as soon as possible to offer his excuses.”

Ursula looked at her aunt defiantly but was unable to do anything about the hurt lingering in her eyes. “I don’t care what the man does. I have no intention of listening to him.”

“Very well,” Adelaide replied with a nod, and sat back in her chair to study the fire thoughtfully. “Then we shall endeavour to thwart his plans too.”

The following morning Ursula turned the broadsheet over and settled back against her pillows to finish her toast. It was rare for her not to be up and about this late in the morning, but Adelaide had assured her that their morning walk was cancelled and she could remain in bed. As a result, Ursula was able to spend some precious time to herself so she could decide what to do about Trenton.

The deep rumble of a voice downstairs brought a frown to her face. She didn’t need to go to the top of the stairs to know exactly who it was: Trenton. Aunt Adelaide was right; he had called by to try to explain to her why he had not told her about taking Serena to the theatre. As far as she was concerned though, he could go to Hades with his explanations. She wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. She had seen more than enough with her own eyes; the whys and wherefores were really insignificant. Betrayal was betrayal; it was as simple as that. Determined to ignore him, she picked up her toast and broadsheet and resumed her breakfast.

Downstairs, Adelaide entered the morning room and sighed when she saw Trenton pacing backward and forward in front of the fire. She had dealt with many over-amorous suitors over the course of time and had given them their marching orders in exactly the same way as she had planned to do with Trenton. Now that he was here though, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was being a little too hasty in her judgement of him.

“Good morning,” she said as she swept into the room and settled into her favourite chair. Once seated, she waved Trenton toward a seat and settled back to wait to hear what he had to say.

Trenton looked toward the door and mentally cursed. “I was wondering if Ursula would like to come for a drive this morning.”

Adelaide studied him carefully. She had seen the flicker of impatience in his eyes and wondered if he would actually march upstairs and demand to see the woman in question. She glanced at the clock and smiled at the ungodly hour he had chosen to call. It was barely mid-morning, yet he had clearly been up for hours, and had slept poorly if the dark circles beneath his eyes were any indication.

“I am afraid that Ursula isn’t here. She left this morning to go out for a stroll and won’t be back for a while yet.”

Trenton pierced Adelaide with a look that warned her that his patience was waning rapidly. “It’s early for a walk. Which park did she go to? Maybe I could catch up with her.”

“I am afraid she didn’t tell me. She said she was going for a walk. We have so many engagements to attend that I think she wanted some fresh air before we left for the day.” She looked at him somewhat apologetically, wondering if she would get struck by lightning for lying. “Now tell me, what did you think of the play last night?”

“I cannot profess to thinking much of it to be frank with you. I endured as much as I could but I have to agree with the reviews. I noticed you didn’t stay very long yourself. Did you not enjoy it either?”

“I am afraid that what Ursula saw rather upset her,” Adelaide warned obliquely.

“It’s not what was expected,” he admitted.

He knew he had told her he had planned to deal with some business. He had, but had been waylaid by Hugo. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, he had agreed to attend the theatre in the hopes of meeting several acquaintances who might know something about the Sinnertons. If not, then he could at least find out what Brampton and Barbarella were up to these days.

As it was, the entire evening had been a waste of time, and he had ended up doing more harm than good by escorting Hugo’s sister to the blasted farcical play.

“I am sure it isn’t. However, we have resolved never to go there again,” Adelaide informed him, unsure if he would get the gist of her warning.

He nodded and felt the sharp sting of impatience sweep through him. “I should like to speak to her as soon as possible so I can correct a few misunderstandings,” he confided.

“I have no doubt she will make herself available in her own good time,” Adelaide replied.

“I will call by later,” Trenton muttered before he took his leave.

As he walked out of the house, he suspected that Ursula was upstairs. Unfortunately, without going up there himself there was nothing he could do except wait for her upset to subside, and hope to cross paths with her at one of the forthcoming social engagements.

It was only when the door had closed behind him that he realised he should have asked Adelaide which social engagements they were meant to go to. With a disgusted shake of his head, he set off for White’s.

Later that day, armed with rather disturbing information about Alfred Sinnerton, Trenton left White’s in a temper and hailed a carriage. As he climbed aboard, he contemplated whether to share the news with Ursula first, but suspected that she would just refuse to see him. Instead, he rapped out the address he had been given to the coachman, and slammed the door closed behind him.

“Are you sure you want to go there, sir?” the coachman called.

Trenton frowned and slid the window down so he could lean out and looked at him.

“Why?”

“It’s rather run down, squire, that’s all I’m saying. It’s not a safe place to be.”

“If you are happy to go there then I am,” Trenton replied firmly.

The coachman looked at him somewhat hesitantly, glanced at White’s, then shrugged and guided the horse into the traffic.

Trenton studied the address Sir Bernard had scribbled onto the parchment. He wondered how the Sinnertons expected to pull off their duplicitous scheming. Once the
ton
realised they were short of funds and couldn’t return any of the invitations they were going to be cast out faster than they could blink. They would be the scourge of London for many years to come.

It wasn’t just the lies they had told to gain access to the invitations that worried him. It was Alfred Sinnertons penchant for Ursula that was most disturbing. Someone who was
that
conniving didn’t want to further a connection with Ursula because they were deeply attached. He knew now that their motive was mercenary, and had very little to do with affection. That made Alfred Sinnerton incredibly dangerous; a criminal even given the incidents that had happened to Ursula of late.

In spite of the forewarning he had received, Trenton wasn’t prepared for the sight that met his startled gaze when the carriage pulled to a stop. He opened the window and looked up at the coachman.

“Is this it?” he asked in astonishment.

“Aye. This is 21 Matterton Gardens,” the driver replied and yelled at a street urchin who ventured too close to his horse.

“Just wait here for a few minutes,” Trenton ordered as he stepped down into the grimy, sewage laden street. It was more disreputable than he had thought. He studied the numbers on the houses and discovered that number 21 was a ramshackle house that should have been abandoned a long time ago. Rather than knock on the door, he stopped a young lad who scurried past.

“Is anyone living here?” he asked, holding a penny up as a prize. He watched the young boy’s avid gaze consider his offering for a moment before his gaze flickered furtively toward the house.

“Mrs Crabtree lives downstairs.”

“What about upstairs? Who lives there?”

“Dunno,” he boy shrugged. “Ask Mrs Crabtree.” He nodded toward an elderly woman who was carrying an empty basket down the dirt laden front steps.

Trenton flicked the boy the penny and stepped toward the woman. She looked at him warily when he approached but stopped to hear what he had to say.

“Mrs Crabtree?” Trenton asked, unwilling to venture closer to the building for fear of being seen by its occupants, namely the Sinnertons. He looked down at the basement beside the path, and shuddered at the sight of a rat scurrying across the dirt beneath the window.

“I don’t owe nothing,” the woman grumbled dourly.

“Who lives on the second floor?” He nodded toward the house and held up a couple of pennies for the woman to see. “I just need their names.”

“They owe you money too?”

“Do they owe you rent?”

“’Aye,” she snapped and glared at him as though it was his fault.

Trenton studied the second floor windows for a minute and wondered if the Sinnertons were at home. He then realised that the Mrs Crabtree was leaving, and hurried after her.

“Wait. Can you describe what they look like?”

“Why? Whatsit to you?”

“I am investigating them,” Trenton replied briskly. “They are fraudsters.”

Mrs Crabtree stopped and peered at him suspiciously. Her gaze flew to the house while she considered that, then she nodded as though completely unsurprised by the news. Sensing she wasn’t going to give him the information he wanted easily, Trenton sighed and held up another couple of pennies.

“Let me guess. There is one woman, about this high and rather round. Sometimes talk with a strange accent and pretends to be posher than she really is.”

“’Aye, that’s her. ‘As a son too. He has squirrelly eyes. He is thin and odd.” She sidled closed. “It’s that damned girl of hers that worries me. Watches too much if you ask me,” she confided and tapped the side of her head. “Not quite right.”

“What name have they given you?”

“Brown,” Mrs Crabtree replied. “It ain’t theirs, is it?”

Trenton shook his head. “No, they aren’t called the Browns. Just make sure they pay you what they owe you and don’t challenge them about anything. They will most likely disappear soon.”

“I hope so,” Mrs Crabtree groused.

Trenton handed her the pennies and added a shilling for good measure. “Thank you, but please don’t mention our conversation to anybody, especially the Browns.”

“Who are you?” Mrs Crabtree demanded suspiciously as she pocketed the coins and suddenly looked happier with her day.

“Nobody important,” Trenton replied and nodded to the coachman. He waited until the woman was out of earshot then gave the man his home address.

“Wait,” he frowned when he notice a carriage turn into the road. “Go to the end of the road and wait there for a minute. Quickly man!”

Thankfully the coachman didn’t wait around. Trenton barely had the time to clamber aboard before the carriage lurched into motion and as instructed, stopped at the end of the road. Trenton watched a dark, nondescript, and very familiar carriage pull to a stop outside of the house, and Alfred Sinnerton step down from the coachman’s seat. He handed his mother down from inside the carriage, and waited for his sister before they all made their way into the house.

Having seen everything he needed to see, Trenton called to the coachman to take him home, and sat back against the seat with a smile of satisfaction. He now knew that the Sinnertons were about as impoverished as anyone could be. They had not just hit upon hard times; they had been rendered nearly destitute, and were living in conditions that were one step up from homelessness. He had no doubt the flat they inhabited was small, cramped, and less than hospitable.

How in the world did they manage to bluff their way into the
ton?
More importantly, who had introduced them in the first place, and how on earth did they expect to continue to accept invitations and get away without returning any? To move about the rather austere confines of the
ton
so brazenly, dressed to fit in yet not have their lies discovered was simply astounding.

Did they not realise that at some point someone might want to call upon them? Did they not anticipate that they would be expected to return invitations if they wished to remain part of the ‘inner circle’?

That thought led Trenton to suspect that whatever they were up to would only last one season, at which point Heaven only knows what they had planned.

That being the case, where did Ursula fit into their plans? He was positive now that it was Ursula they were after, but why? Why not Trenton, or Adelaide, who both had far more connections and considerably more wealth? As far as he knew, there wasn’t any possibility that the Sinnertons might know of Ursula’s secret; even Ursula didn’t know because Jeremiah hadn’t told her. That led him to wonder whether Alfred had to find himself a wife for some reason. If so, why?

He shuddered at the thought of Alfred being married to Ursula, and stared blankly out of the window while he considered what to do next. There was only one person who was acquainted with the majority of the
ton
well enough to know who the Sinnertons closest connections were: Adelaide.

Lurching out of his seat, he thumped on the roof and called out the new address to the coachman. When the carriage turned in the general direction of Adelaide’s house, he settled back to wait.

“We meet again, Trenton,” Adelaide murmured as she waved him toward a seat an hour later. It was clear from the broadsheet scattered around her that she had been in the chair for a while. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Ursula.

“I apologise for calling again so soon, but I need to speak with you and Ursula on a matter of upmost importance,” Trenton replied. He waved away the offer of tea and cake and settled back to wait.

When Adelaide nodded toward a maid, he sat back with a sigh of relief and waited impatiently for the woman he most wanted to see to make an appearance. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but now wasn’t the time. He just had to redeem himself in whatever way he could, preferably before she did something drastic, like return to Yorkshire.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Adelaide frowned when a discrete knock on the door heralded the arrival of a maid.

“I am afraid Miss Ursula has gone for a walk, ma’am.”

“When?” Adelaide demanded.

“About half an hour ago, ma’am. She has Molly with her. They have gone to walk the Ladies’ Mile,” the maid reported.

“I will go and find her when I leave here,” Trenton said firmly in a tone that warned Adelaide she wasn’t going to stop him.

“All right, Eadie, that will be all.”

Trenton waited for the maid to leave, then turned toward Adelaide. “What can you remember about being introduced to the Sinnertons?”

Adelaide looked at him for a moment. “I was introduced to her at someone’s ball, I think.”

“Whose?”

“Well, I cannot rightly remember. I didn’t converse with her much,” Adelaide frowned. “Then, she approached me in the park. It’s quite the wrong thing to do, but she came up to me as though she knew me. She was so forthright in her manner that everyone was quite appalled. The next thing I know, she is at the Potterton’s ball.”

Trenton squinted into the fire absently. “So, that was about eight or nine weeks ago? Can you remember her being around before then?”

“Not that I can recall, no,” Adelaide replied. “What is this, Trenton? What’s wrong?”

“Tell me; were any of the Sinnertons around last year?”

“No, definitely not.” Adelaide gave him one of ‘those’ looks. “She is not somebody one would forget, I can assure you.”

“I know. So the Sinnertons appeared at the very start of the season and immersed themselves by making ‘acquaintances’ during walks.” He sighed and looked at Adelaide. “Have you heard any rumours about Mrs Sinnerton pressing anyone for an invitation?”

“Well, everyone knows she is pushy, but then some people are, my dear.” Adelaide sighed and watched him glance, not for the first time, toward the door. “What is going on, Trenton? What are all of these questions about?”

Trenton sighed and told her what he had discovered about the Sinnerton family.

Adelaide stared at him in stunned horror when he had finished. “So, who recommended them in the first place?” she demanded. “I mean, you can’t turn up anywhere within the
ton
without a letter of introduction, or at least connections who can introduce you in person.”

“There are all sorts of social engagements on offer if you put on a façade and make your presence felt with the right people,” Trenton murmured. “She has to have an acquaintance somewhere who gave her a letter of introduction she could use.”

“But they would have to have a recommendation that was worthy enough to ensure that people would ignore their lack of other connections, or titles, to want to invite them.”

“I know, so who let them in, and why?”

“Well, they are fraudsters and clearly putting on a front.” She stared at Trenton. “Do you think it was them who tried to take Ursula out of her bedroom? Do you think they were kidnapping her for blackmail?”

Trenton closed his eyes and mentally cursed. He fervently hoped not but given the near-misses she had had of late, he couldn’t be altogether sure.

“I don’t know, Adelaide. I need to find out if the houses they have visited have had any break-ins of late.”

“Oh dear. That couldn’t be right, surely to goodness? How could they do that?”

“They are living in dire straits in slums, Adelaide. Heaven only knows what drove them to it, or whether they have always been a part of it and are just chancing their look while searching for an opportunity,” Trenton muttered dourly.

“Do you think they have forged a letter of introduction to obtain invitations to social events so they can get details about the houses they want to rob?” Adelaide was aghast at such a notion and couldn’t help but think that Trenton was right.

Trenton shook his head. “I don’t know, but I certainly mean to find out. Would you be able to make up a list of people whose social engagements the Sinnertons have attended? I can then find out if anyone has had anything stolen.”

“I can do better than that. I shall endeavour to put it about that Mrs Sinnerton is a fraudster. I can tell you now that nobody likes any of them. They may dress the part, and may be able to dance enough to get by, but their manners are atrocious. They have appalled many by their rather crass behaviour. Although nobody would ever declare as such publically, there have been rumours that Mrs Sinnerton is trying to find her son a wife.”