‘Are you all right?’ Aurelia whispered to Leah twenty minutes later, after Sampford and Veryan delivered them back to Mrs Butterby. They were already seated side by side on the backward-facing seat, opposite their chaperone, who was distracted as she ascertained Their Lordships’ attendance at Lady Todmorden’s rout that evening. ‘You have been so quiet, and you look even paler than usual.’
Leah merely nodded. The effort of concealing her shock from their escorts had left her with a mouth too dry and brain far too jumbled to trust herself to say anything. Aurelia squeezed her hand and Leah desperately tried to calm her breathing as she pushed aside her conjectures—and, to her dismay, her hopes—as to why Dolph was here, in London.
‘Thank goodness that ordeal is over,’ Aurelia declared as the barouche pulled away. ‘Do you think they have any notion how exceedingly tedious their conversation is?’
‘Aurelia! Please!’ Mrs Butterby indicated Hall, who was driving the barouche. ‘You do not wish for such opinions to become common knowledge.’
‘Do I not?’ Aurelia rolled her eyes at Leah, who forced a smile, grateful to her sister for diverting Mrs Butterby’s attention away from her.
‘You really are hopelessly outspoken—it will win you no friends in Society. Please, Leah, will you tell her?’
Leah hated their chaperone’s tendency to try to get Leah to side with her against Aurelia. She shook her head. ‘It is not my place to tell Aurelia how to behave.’
Aurelia squeezed her hand again, and Mrs Butterby spent the rest of the journey delivering a homily to Aurelia on ladylike behaviour. When they arrived home Leah and Aurelia headed straight for the drawing room, and Mrs Butterby said she would join them shortly.
‘Really!’ Aurelia flung herself onto the sofa. ‘She is infuriating. Have you noticed how she constantly tries to set you against me? I can only view her strategy as one of divide and conquer—she no doubt believes we will be easier to manage as individuals than as friends who support one another.’ She directed her bright blue gaze at Leah. ‘We are friends, are we not, Leah? I know I am sometimes a touch...shall we say, confrontational—’ a smile flashed across her face ‘—but I would do anything for you. You do know that?’
Touched, Leah sat next to Aurelia and hugged her. ‘Yes, I do know it, and yes, we are friends.’
‘And, as your friend... I know I said I would not pry, but... Leah... Lord Dolphinstone.’
Leah’s heart somersaulted in her chest, and her pulse picked up again. Just at the mention of his name.
‘You did not tell me he was so handsome.’
When Leah did not reply, Aurelia sighed. ‘Well, it is hard to contain my curiosity, but I did say I would not pry, and friends should stick to their word. And sisters, even more so.’
Leah’s arm was still around Aurelia, and she hugged her again. ‘I am so happy we are sisters,’ she said. Then she frowned. ‘And I would be far happier to admit that outright. Which brings us back to what we should do about Beatrice.’
‘Yes, I shall accept your change of subject,’ Aurelia said, nudging Leah gently. ‘So, speaking of Beatrice...’ She chewed her lip. ‘How would we feel if we did nothing, and she simply did not turn up?’
Leah shoved all thought of Dolph from her mind. Beatrice was important too.
‘We would regret it. Deeply.’
Mrs Butterby entered the room as Leah spoke. ‘Regret what, pray?’
‘We are worried about Beatrice,’ Leah said. ‘We would like to go to her brother’s house and bring her back to London before Easter.’
Mrs Butterby sat in a chair and fussed about, smoothing her skirts. ‘She has over three weeks yet.’
‘But what if she misses the deadline?’ said Aurelia. ‘You did not see her when she spoke about her brother. She is scared of him. He is a brute.’
‘She told you so, did she, Aurelia?’
‘She didn’t have to tell me. I can feel it here!’
Aurelia clapped a hand to her chest, covering her heart, and Leah puzzled again at the contradictions in this sister of hers. Defensive about her own past, and about her future too, scathing of many people she met, but fiercely protective of Beatrice, whom she barely knew, and of Leah too.
‘It does you credit you are concerned about Beatrice, and I promise we will not allow her to miss her chance. If we have heard nothing by early next week, then we shall all three go down to Somerset and fetch her. Although...’ she looked from Leah to Aurelia and back again ‘...you do realise that if Beatrice fails to arrive in time, you two will benefit from it?’
Leah gasped, horrified it would even occur to Mrs Butterby that she might think such a thing. Before she could speak, however, Aurelia leapt in.
‘As if that would make any difference! She is our flesh and blood, and that is worth more than any amount of money. Is that not right, Leah?’
‘It is.’
Aurelia had again surprised Leah, but had also delighted her because, when Leah looked inside her own heart, she knew exactly how fortunate she was—finding Aurelia and Beatrice meant more to her than any amount of wealth.
Dolph’s head spun as he strode away from Leah and her companions.
Sampford and Veryan! What the devil is she doing with that pair of scoundrels? And what is she doing promenading in the Park anyway? Dressed in the height of fashion, too...
His thoughts stuttered to a halt. George had told him she’d inherited a house and some money. He’d assumed it had been a modest amount—sufficient to enable her not to work for her living.
With a silent oath, he turned for home. He’d arrived an hour ago, tired and stiff after close to five days of travel, making slow progress for the children’s sake, although they had travelled better than Dolph expected, especially once they reached the well-maintained road to London. As soon as they had arrived at his town house, Dolph had taken advantage of the dry weather to walk in the Park in order to blow the cobwebs away.
Never had he imagined Leah would be one of the first people he saw. His plan had been to call upon her the next day, after a refreshing night’s sleep, and to tell her the truth about Rebecca’s death, and to confess his own culpability, and to throw himself upon her mercy and beg her to take a chance on him and to be his wife.
Now he realised he’d never even thought to ask Travers for Leah’s address, and he also realised, with a wash of shame, that he’d never really believed she would refuse him again, even after he confessed the truth about Rebecca’s suicide. He had assumed—and there was that word again—she would forgive him because what he could offer her was superior to what she already had.
For the first time, doubts assailed him. She was clearly in better circumstances than he’d imagined. What if she was enjoying her life here in London? What if she said no?
As soon as he arrived home, he walked straight through into the mews and asked for Travers. When his coachman emerged from the stables Dolph drew him aside.
‘It occurs to me I should pay my respects to Miss Thame while I am in Town, and I shall therefore need her address.’
He gritted his teeth at the amused gleam in Travers’s eyes.
‘South Street, milord. Tregowan House.’
Tregowan House? What the devil...?
Dolph fought to hide his bewilderment.
‘Thank you, Travers. I shan’t need the carriage in that case.’ South Street was only around the corner from his own house in South Audley Street.
The first thing Dolph saw when he walked into his house was Nicky with Miss Pike’s parrot on his shoulder.
‘Wolf. Wolf. Say Wolf, Horatio. Wolf.’
‘What are you up to, Nicky? Where is Miss Pike?’
Nicky looked at him guiltily. ‘She is upstairs, Papa.’
‘And where does she think you are?’
‘Putting Horatio’s cage in her chamber.’
‘And is Horatio meant to be inside his cage?’
Nicky pouted. ‘He has been inside his cage for days, Papa. He needed to fly.’ He gazed up at Dolph, all innocence. ‘He needed to blow the cobwebs away.’
Dolph bit back his grin at having his own words recited back to him. ‘Go now and do as Miss Pike bid you,’ he said, sternly. ‘And then ask her how else you may help her.’
‘Yes, Papa.’ Nicky headed for the staircase.
Horatio suddenly stirred and stretched out his wings. ‘Wolf!’ he screeched. ‘Wolf!’
The click of claws on the tiled floor sounded as Wolf emerged from the parlour and trotted along the hall, ears pricked.
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ Horatio took flight and dived at Wolf—aiming at his rump, too wise to venture too close to the dog’s teeth. Wolf twisted, snapping ineffectually at empty air.
Dolph rubbed his hand around the back of his neck. He needed peace and quiet to think through what he’d learned about Leah. But first...
‘Wolf. In.’ He pointed at the parlour door. The dog obeyed, and Dolph shut the door. ‘Come along, Nicky. Let us go and find Miss Pike. I doubt she will be happy you have taught her parrot to call Wolf—it’ll cause chaos.’
Nicky beamed. ‘It will, won’t it, Papa? Are we going to see Miss Thame while we are here? Stevie said she lives in London now.’
‘I do not know, Nicky.’ And he really didn’t know. Not now. He didn’t know what to think. ‘We shall see.’
In the end, with so many unanswered questions whizzing around his head, Dolph abandoned his plans of a quiet evening in, followed by an early night, and ventured out after dinner. A visit to his club elicited the information from the doorman that the foremost event that evening was Lady Todmorden’s rout. Dolph knew Lady Todmorden’s spouse, Sir Horace, from his governmental work, and so he strolled from St James’s to their house in Bruton Street, confident of a welcome despite his lack of an invitation. Here he hoped to find acquaintances who could fill in the gaps in his knowledge as to why Leah appeared to have been bequeathed Tregowan House.
The Todmordens’ house was ablaze with light and the road hectic with carriages lining up to deposit their occupants at the door. A cacophony of laughter and conversation drifted through the open windows.
‘Dolph! Good to see you again.’ Sir Horace Todmorden’s magnificent side whiskers quivered in his enthusiasm. ‘It must be—what—close on a year and a half since we last met? You fellows did a grand job over in Europe, by the way. Thank God Napoleon got his comeuppance at last, eh?’
Lady Todmorden placed a hand on her husband’s arm and smiled at Dolph. ‘Welcome, Lord Dolphinstone. We were so sorry to hear of your loss last year, were we not, Horace?’
‘What? Oh, yes. Quite. Condolences, my dear fellow. I quite forgot in all the kerfuffle over that bounder Bonaparte. Yes...welcome indeed.’ He waved his arm in an expansive gesture. ‘Do go ahead and mingle. I’m sure you’ll find some familiar faces in there.’
Dolph smiled and then headed for the room indicated by Sir Horace. He paused in the open doorway and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing footman as he scanned the occupants for one of those familiar faces.
The first person he saw was Leah, holding court. Really, there was no other way to describe the scene before him. Leah, surrounded by half a dozen gentlemen—Veryan included—who were clinging to her every word and vying with one another to earn a smile, or a glance from those brilliant eyes. The sparkle was obvious, even from clear across the room, as the men flirted with her and she...she appeared to relish the attention.
Fortune hunters. Every one of ’em. They’re only after her money. They don’t know the real Leah as I do.
Jealousy spiralled up through Dolph at a dizzying speed. His free hand fisted at his side as he forced himself to sip nonchalantly at the champagne and watched, his gaze unwavering.
Her appearance was nothing short of regal as she stood straight and proud. She was inches taller than most other ladies present, but she did not slouch. And her hair gleamed like a beacon... It was braided up behind—bright, glossy, threaded with pearls—to reveal her elegant neck and ivory shoulders. Gentle curls softened her temples. Her gown—the colour of emeralds—clung to every inch of her willowy frame, draping the long, elegant line of her thighs, and the off-the-shoulder wide neckline exposed an expanse of bare skin unmarred by any decoration save for a green ribbon threaded through her mother’s wedding ring. Strangely, that ring reassured him that this gleaming, polished lady of quality was still the same Leah he knew and loved.
‘Dolph! Back in Town so soon?’
Dolph turned to see his old friend Sir Charles Pidgeon, who claimed a horror of the countryside and lived in London the year round with his wife and family.
‘Pidge. Good to see you again.’
‘I thought you were determined not to set foot in the place again, and yet here you are, not three months later. Is Hinckley back as well?’
‘No, he’s stayed down in Somerset for the time being.’
‘And you? Why have you graced us with your presence again, so soon? Ah...’
Dolph stiffened as his old friend grinned knowingly.
‘Could it, perchance, have something to do with the exceedingly popular Miss Thame? She was your governess, as I understand it.’
Dolph frowned. ‘That is common knowledge?’
‘She has made no secret of the fact. Neither has Miss Croome hidden that she was in dire straits before Lady Tregowan bequeathed them her fortune.’
‘Miss Croome was also a beneficiary? In the same will? Lady Tregowan’s will?’
Pidge’s brows shot up. ‘You did not know?’
‘I only knew Miss Thame had inherited a house in London and an amount of money that meant she no longer had to work for a living.’
‘Ah. Then allow me to fill you in, my dear chap, although there are still gaps in what we know, and rumours galore to fill those gaps, as you might imagine. One of those rumours is that there is another beneficiary, so no one is quite sure whether your Miss Thame has inherited one half or one third of Lady Tregowan’s entire estate. Still, either way, she is a very wealthy lady.’
‘All of it?’ Dolph’s brows shot up. ‘Including Falconfield Hall? What about the current Earl? He would surely have expected to inherit something?’
‘Ah, poor Tregowan. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him—rumour has it he’s licking his wounds back home in Cornwall. It’s to be hoped the blow doesn’t drive him to despair... Rumour is his finances are shot.’
Dolph felt a swell of sympathy for poor Tregowan. He didn’t know him well, but he hoped his situation wasn’t as serious as Pidge implied. And Leah...she had inherited a small fortune, and yet she had remained at Dolphin Court, working, when she could have been a lady of leisure. And that, he knew, was out of the goodness of her heart and from her desire to help the children become accustomed once again to their own father.
‘The speculation, as you can imagine, is rife,’ Pidge went on. ‘Two young women appear from nowhere and take up residence in Tregowan House under the chaperonage of the late Lady Tregowan’s companion? Society hasn’t had this much excitement this early in the Season for many years. The tattlemongers are busily whispering behind their hands, questioning the link with Lady Tregowan, while the sticklers are already peering down their noses at the ladies in question. I doubt they will be honoured with vouchers for Almack’s when it opens, but both are of respectable enough breeding on the face of it, and money does have a way of blinding those in debt to such negative connotations, does it not?’
Hence Leah being in company with Veryan and Sampford that afternoon. No wonder she had refused his offer when she had such wealth and excitement awaiting her in London.
‘Thank you for bringing me up to date, Pidge.’
Pidge slapped Dolph’s back. ‘You’re welcome, my friend. And if your appearance here has anything to do with Miss Thame, I honestly wish you luck, for she seems a decent woman and she will do far better with you than with any of those chancers cosying up to her. And, if you ask me—which you wouldn’t, but I shall tell you anyway—the lady might give a good impression of lapping up all that attention but, in my opinion, her heart is not in it.’
With a final smile, Pidge wandered off while Dolph remained in place, searching the room with his eyes, seeking Leah. Someone was in the way, and Dolph shifted until he could see her. As she came into view—still surrounded by admirers—he battled a primeval urge to drag her away from them, to warn them away from her, to warn her they cared only for her money.
Her head turned, as if she felt the force of his gaze, and their eyes locked. He felt the blow as though it were physical. The air shot from his lungs and he strove to refill them, his legs suddenly weak. He could not move but remained as if frozen in place as he watched Leah’s reaction. And, of course, there was no artifice. Not for her the coy lowering of her lashes. Not for her the turn of the shoulder to punish him. Not for her the revenge of flirting even more outrageously with her admirers simply in order to prove she had no need of him.
No. She excused herself from her coterie and she crossed the floor to him. Her smile, though, was hesitant. She was unsure, but she would not use that as an excuse to cut him. She had always been forthright and uncomplicated with him, and London had not—yet—changed her. She stopped in front of him and looked up, directly into his eyes.