The Lady Travelers Guide To Larceny With A Dashing Stranger. Victoria Alexander

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      “But George is gone and as you said, I do need to bravely forge ahead. Which is precisely why I wish to get away from England.”

      Poppy nodded. “Although you have no money to do so.”

      Willie stared. “Why on earth would you say such a thing?”

      Poppy raised a knowing brow.

      “Even if it’s true.” Willie sighed and collapsed against the flowered cushions of the overly comfortable sofa that was far and away too large for the parlor in Poppy’s modest house on a tree-lined street in Bloomsbury. “How did you know?”

      “For one thing, Wilhelmina, your dress is two to three years out of fashion. I have never known you to be clad in anything but the latest styles.” While the widow of an explorer, adventurer and lecturer of modest success, Poppy had always had an unexpectedly keen eye for things like fashion and decor, even if she hadn’t always had the means to support her taste.

      “I have been in mourning, Poppy,” Willie said staunchly. “Being a bit behind the dictates of fashion is to be expected.”

      “Perhaps but do not forget I have known you nearly since the day you came into the world.” Poppy cast her a chastising look. “I would not call you vain but even as a young girl you were determined to be fashionably attired.”

      “Yes, well, some things are not as important as they once were.” Although it did rather pain Willie to look into the mirror these days. While still serviceable, the extensive wardrobe she’d had before George’s death was starting to appear the tiniest bit sad. Even so, she’d been more than willing to discard the unrelenting black that was the required fate of any new widow. It had never made much sense to Willie that there were strict rules as to how a widow should behave and what she should do. It seemed to her that mourning a lost husband or parent or companion should come from one’s heart, not an edict from society. With her fair hair and blue eyes, she looked absurdly good in black but Willie much preferred to choose black rather than have black thrust upon her.

      “Beyond that...” Poppy paused to consider her words. “Your husband’s creditors apparently had little confidence they would ever see their money.”

      Willie stared. She wasn’t at all certain she wished to hear more. Still, in her recent experience, knowing was far better than not knowing. “Dear Lord, please don’t tell me they have bothered you. I’ve paid them all. Unless I have missed some. Entirely possible, I suppose. But you have no money to speak of.”

      “Yet at the moment I am more than comfortable.”

      Heat washed up Willie’s face. “I am sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to—”

      “Of course you didn’t, dear, and you are quite right. I have no particular fortune—I never have. I am the last person creditors would approach in their efforts to seek repayment. But you know how determined those sorts can be when they wish to get what is owed to them.”

      “Actually, I’m afraid I don’t,” Willie said, bemoaning once again her failure to pay the slightest bit of attention to George’s finances. But then what woman did know the true state of her husband’s financial affairs?

      Admittedly, in hindsight, there were subtle hints as to their dwindling resources. Willie had noted the country house was showing signs of disrepair but whenever she had mentioned her concerns, George had said he would arrange to have it taken care of. They would then be off to London or to a party hosted at a friend’s estate in Essex or Kent or wherever and upon their return nothing had changed. Willie had suggested on more than one occasion that they sell the terrace house in Mayfair left to her by her grandmother in favor of a larger residence, as it was nearly impossible to entertain properly. George would dismiss the idea by pointing out they were rarely in London and wasn’t it far more fun to be a guest at someone else’s party than to go to all the bother and expense of hosting their own gathering? She hadn’t given his objections a second thought at the time. Now it struck her it wasn’t so much the bother as the expense that concerned him.

      “No, dear, creditors looking to recoup their losses would never contact me, especially as we are not blood relations. However...”

      Willie sucked in a sharp breath. “Father?”

      “I’m afraid so.” Poppy winced. “He called on me, oh, a good six months ago when you were still in Wales. It did appear to be a strictly social visit although, as I have only seen him a handful of times since your baptism, it did seem rather odd.”

      “No doubt,” Willie said under her breath.

      “He wanted to know if I had heard from you and of course I said no.” She cast her goddaughter a smug smile. “I had no idea why he wished to know and no intention of offering him any assistance whatsoever.”

      “Thank you.” Willie and her father, the Earl of Hillborough, hadn’t spoken in nearly eleven years. On occasion, she missed the father he might have been but not once did she regret the loss of the father he was.

      “Any man who disowns his own child simply because she has the temerity to follow her heart and marry the man she loves, even if against his wishes, will get no help from me,” Poppy said staunchly. “At the very least, he could have given you your dowry.”

      “That would have been helpful.”

      “It was entirely inappropriate of him not to do so. You are his only child after all.” Poppy huffed. “Children are a blessing and are not to be squandered simply because they have minds of their own. I know if dear Malcolm and I had been lucky enough to have children, we would never have turned them away because of a difference of opinion.”

      Willie managed a half-hearted smile. In addition to everything else, all that contemplation in Wales had brought her to the inescapable conclusion that in his objection to her marriage with George, Father might well have been right. Something Willie was determined never to admit aloud. Regardless, her father’s rejection made little difference in her life as he had effectively disowned her when she was not born male.

      “After a bit of not very subtle probing on his part, your father finally admitted that he wished to contact you to inform you George’s creditors had contacted him. He wanted you to know he would not settle the debts of a man he disapproved of.” Poppy’s lips pressed together in a hard line. “He was quite firm on that point.”

      “Nor would I ever ask him to.” Willie raised her chin, a gesture of defiance that had driven her father mad for as long as she could remember. “I would become a beggar on the streets before I would ask him for anything.”

      Not that it would come to that. At least not yet. In the few months since returning from her self-imposed exile, Willie had reluctantly sold the country house and had managed to pay off all of George’s creditors. She had also discovered most of the jewels given her by her husband were paste, nice enough to look at but essentially worthless. She did hope any jewelry he had no doubt given those women who had been the objects of his fleeting affections through the years was no more valuable than hers.

      Willie had long suspected George had not been entirely faithful but in this Willie was something of a coward. She had never confronted him about his dalliances with other women. Upon reflection she wasn’t sure why, although СКАЧАТЬ