The Courtesan's Courtship. Gail Ranstrom

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      “I cannot imagine what it could be. That was the only time I’d ever seen Miss Brookes.”

      “That is what we tried to tell them,” Annica said. “But there is speculation now that there was some sort of secret connection that has been kept from common knowledge. I cannot imagine what but, given the girl’s occupation, I shudder to imagine what is being said.”

      Dianthe took a deep breath and braced herself. “The point now is that…well, I’ve become fodder for the gossip mills.”

      “Whatever is whispered behind fans can be overcome when the truth is out, my dear,” Charity said.

      “Doubtful,” Dianthe murmured. “Once something like this is whispered, one cannot reclaim a spotless reputation. I only hope the truth will redeem the portion my friends and family have lost.”

      “Drats!” Annica cursed. “This is so unfair! All you did was stop to help someone you thought was ill.”

      “And I’d do it again,” Dianthe admitted. “So there is no use in agonizing over this. I simply wanted to know if there was any advantage in coming forward.”

      “No!” the ladies exclaimed in one voice.

      Sarah stood and began to pace circles around the small room. “My husband says you should not have hidden. He says they—the police—have likely taken that as an indication of guilt. But it is too late to undo that now.”

      Then it was even worse than she’d suspected. “I doubt I will be going out much. The risk of recognition is too great.”

      “Disguise,” Sarah said.

      “Or go out only after dark,” Annica advised.

      Dianthe donned her bonnet and gave them an uncertain smile. If she went forward with her new plan, and if she could conquer her fears, she would be doing both.

       Chapter Four

       D ianthe curled up in the overstuffed chair in her room and unfolded Afton’s letter. She wanted to read slowly and savor every word. The letter had been written weeks ago and would be full of ordinary news and everyday observations. Oh, how she longed for something ordinary.

      She took a sip of her tea and began reading.

      My dearest little sister,

      I write to you with some good news and some of a curious nature. First the good news. I am bearing a little McHugh. I have known for quite some time but have delayed telling anyone until I was certain all was well. Rob is completely overjoyed. I have never seen him so doting. We expect the blessed event to occur just before the New Year.

      Dianthe counted backward on her fingers. Heavens! Afton was five months along. How wonderful. Oh, but a doting McHugh would never allow Afton to travel over rough Scottish roads in a delicate condition. Nor should he. Afton should stay safe at home. And that meant McHugh would come himself. That thought made her more than a little uneasy. McHugh was not a patient man, and he would rush into the Bow Street office demanding to see any evidence against her, and that any charges be dropped. He’d likely end up in Newgate alongside her.

      Oh, but she wouldn’t think of that now. Afton was having a baby! What joyous news. If Dianthe could just get clear of this mess, she would hie to Scotland to be with her. She blinked her tears away and returned her attention to the letter.

      And now for the curious news. The postmaster in Little Upton forwarded a letter to me here. To say I was surprised, even shocked, is an understatement. Do you recall that Mama had a sister, Aunt Dora, who emigrated to Australia? Well, it appears that was a lie to cover a more scandalous event.

      A visiting dignitary seduced Aunt Dora, and Grandfather turned her out when he discovered her transgression. She did not go as far as Australia, however. She went to London and took up with a wealthy merchant. He was married, but kept Aunt Dora comfortably. She had a daughter, Eleanor. Just think! We have a cousin. It was she who wrote to us.

      Aunt Dora died a few years ago, and would never discuss her family, so Eleanor only recently found out about us. Her father preceded Aunt Dora in death, and his family turned their back on Eleanor, refusing to acknowledge her or contribute to her support.

      Here lies the difficulty, Dianthe, and I pray you will be gentle and not judge her. Lacking both family and fortune, Eleanor was left to her own devices when Aunt Dora died. Untrained for any useful occupation, she had little choice but to enter the demimonde. She now wishes to leave that life behind, and begs that we will help.

      Toward that end, dear sister, I have sent her your calling card, along with the Thayers’ address, and I have urged her to call upon you. When you hear from Miss Eleanor Brookes, please assist her in any way possible, and send her to us at Glenross. We shall take care of her and help her build her life anew.

      I know I needn’t caution you to discretion. This sort of news would provide grist for the gossip mill for years to come, and the damage it could do the Lovejoy name is immeasurable. Think of your future prospects, Dianthe, and of our brother’s future.

      I hope to hear from you soon, and urge you to come spend the Christmas season with us at Glenross.

      Your loving sister, Afton

      Stunned, Dianthe could only stare at the letter in her lap while her mind reeled. Eleanor. Nell. Nell Brookes had been her cousin. She had held her cousin and watched her life seep away. And Nell had known—had probably followed Dianthe to Vauxhall to meet her rather than come to the Thayer house. Thank heavens ’tis you, she had said. And, as difficult as it had been, thank heaven Dianthe had been there so Nell would not die alone.

      Tears stung her eyes and blurred the words on the page. Dianthe silently renewed her promise to find and stop the man who had murdered her cousin. Of course she would not breathe a word of this to anyone. Whether her own future had been irretrievably lost or not, her brother’s must be protected at any cost.

      Geoff left his horse in the care of a stable boy and let himself in the kitchen door of the manse on Curzon Street. He’d departed the gaming hells early this evening for the express purpose of dealing with Miss Lovejoy but he wanted to get back to the hells for the deepest play. The risk of a high stakes game was the only thing that gave him relief from the endless monotony of life. Only then did the dark loneliness inside him ease. Only then could he forget his failure to Constance. And, dear God, his sister, Charlotte. But that pain was still too raw to bear thinking about. Now he had to add Nell to his list. He was no good for women.

      He encountered Mrs. Mason as she came below stairs bearing a tray with a half-eaten meal of lamb chops and roasted potatoes. “Oh, Lord Morgan! I did not expect you tonight. Will you be wanting dinner?”

      He shook his head. “I’ll be wanting Miss Lovejoy. Is she about?”

      The woman flushed and Geoff realized how his words must have sounded.

      “I mean I’ll be wanting to speak with Miss Lovejoy.”

      “Of course, milord. But I am afraid she has just retired for the evening.”

      “I’ll be in the library. Please ask her to accommodate me. I will take only a few СКАЧАТЬ