Prejudice in Regency Society: An Impulsive Debutante / A Question of Impropriety. Michelle Styles

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СКАЧАТЬ I have missed the Queen Charlotte Ball, but a number of events remain in the Season. Mrs Fullen did say that she might be prepared to sponsor me and she is the sister of Lady Rowland. She knows the patronesses of Almack’s.’

      ‘Lucy considers otherwise. She thinks Mrs Fullen exaggerates about her connection with the patronesses.’

      ‘Lucy forgets what Mrs Fullen did for Ann Mason only two years ago. Lady Rowland is a respected member of the ton, Henry. I read her antecedents in Burke’s Peerage, Baronetage and Knightage, and if she is in Burke’s…’

      Henry held up his hand. ‘I am unprepared to countenance you set loose in London. Lottie, you would be ruined within moments of stepping on a dance floor. Were very nearly, by all accounts, ruined by an unknown man in a deserted churchyard. You have no sense with men, Sister.’

      ‘Then Newcastle? You are taking me back home.’ Lottie refused to let the disappointment of London bow her spirits. Once she returned to Newcastle’s society, she could work on her mother. Mama would realise the true importance of having a London Season to securing a title.

      ‘Gilsland Spa where Mama is taking the waters.’

      ‘Gilsland?’ Lottie’s heart sunk. ‘What is at Gilsland? Who is at Gilsland at this time of year? It is fine for Mama, but does she intend to marry me off to some gouty lord or a creaking count from some unknown European principality?’

      ‘Lord Thorngrafton currently resides there. He has taken a suite at Shaw’s Hotel, as have several other members of the aristocracy. Mama has sent a list of the titled currently residing there. The prospects quite excite her and I must say that they make for quite intriguing reading. I had never considered Gilsland Spa as a possibility before.’ Henry puffed his chest out. ‘I am given to understand that Lord Thorngrafton was very interested in you at an Assembly ball last autumn, Lottie.’

      Aunt Alice gave an audible gasp and Cousin Frances’s eyes gleamed as Lottie gave a sigh of relief. Here at last was an opening.

      ‘I believed Lord Thorngrafton’s attention was of a dis¬ honourable nature than honourable.’ Lottie settled on the horsehair sofa, crossing her ankles and arranging the folds of her gown. If she could turn Henry’s attention away from Lord Thorngrafton, she might be able to return to Newcastle after all. It was a matter of persuasion, applying the right sort of pressure. He would yield.

      ‘Our mother believes otherwise. She has had a conversation with the man in question and he remarked on your fine eyes and how much he admired them.’

      ‘Lord Thorngrafton spent most of last November speaking to my bosom. I do not believe that he once noticed my eyes.’

      ‘Carlotta!’ her aunt shrieked. ‘Unmentionables in front of Frances! Cover your ears, Daughter!’

      ‘I have done so, Mama.’

      Lottie crossed her arms and glared at them. ‘It is true.’

      ‘Mama stated in her letter that he asked after you particularly.’ Henry’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do not play the sly puss with me, Carlotta. I have it on good authority that Lord Thorngrafton is possessed of a more than agreeable fortune. He saw the possibilities of railways, long before I. He is a business associate of Jack Stanton, a partner in some of his ventures. And you know how rich Stanton is. I have done some investigating.’

      ‘So rich that Mama would have happily forgone a title.’ Lottie made sure that her smile was sweet. ‘Letter or no, Lord Thorngrafton is up to no good. Why should a titled gentleman possessed of an agreeable fortune wish to ally himself with our family?’

      Aunt Alice began to fan herself rapidly at the outburst as Henry’s face turned a sort of mottled purple.

      ‘Explain yourself!’

      ‘I simply feel there are other better places where I could go.’

      ‘You do, do you?’ Henry jabbed his finger at her. ‘Let me tell you this, Miss Butter Would Not Melt in Her Mouth! Should you fail to bring Lord Thorngrafton up to the mark, I will marry you off to the next person who asks. In fact, I am tempted to marry you off to the next person— Lord Thorngrafton or whomever—after this latest outburst. I have it on good authority that Mr Lynch is currently on the lookout for a wife, or should I say nursemaid, for his brood of seven children.’

      Lottie stared at her brother in horror. He could not do that. Could he? She fought against the panic that swept over her, struggling to breathe against the confines of her corset.

      ‘Where is Mama? Let me speak to her. You cannot do that, Henry. I forbid it. Mama will be distraught when she learns of your unkind and uncharitable attitude.’

      ‘Mama is at Shaw’s Hotel, waiting for your arrival. And despite Lucy’s misgivings, I must conclude that it is the best place for you. You will catch a titled husband there, so help me God.’

      ‘Why are you doing this, Henry?’ Lottie asked in a small voice. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’

      ‘My sister’s marriage is a matter of business. You have two weeks, Lottie. I am not an unkind man, but it is all the time I wish to be away from my family. You and our mother together…’

      ‘But…but…’

      ‘Perhaps we send for Mr Lynch now?’

      Lottie stared at her brother. Once she had thought him a god, but now she knew he was a hard, unfeeling monster. He did not care for her future happiness, merely for what prestige or power her marriage could bring to him. What business opportunities might arise. Her value on the marriage market. Lottie refused to cry or give way to temper. That, she knew from bitter experience, would not help the situation. She had to be calm. Somehow, she would find a way.

      ‘I will go,’ she whispered.

      ‘Good.’ Henry turned his back on her. ‘Now, Aunt, may I have another of your esteemed muffins?’

      ‘Lottie, dry your eyes.’ Cousin Frances patted her shoulder. ‘Things like this are always happening in my Minerva Press novels and they turn out all right in the end.’

      Lottie gave a small hiccup. Somehow, Cousin Frances’s sudden solicitude made everything worse.

      ‘Time to wake up, Lord Thorngrafton.’ Tristan strode across the darkened room, pulled apart the curtains and let the fresh air enter the wine-soaked room. ‘Or should I say, Cousin Peter? I had wondered who I might find at Shaw’s and had suspected that it might be you.’

      The prone figure on the bed groaned, mumbled a few incoherent words before pulling the pillow over his head. ‘Go away. It is the middle of the night.’

      ‘Time to be up, Peter. Three o’clock in the afternoon. Play time has finished.’ Tristan controlled his fury at his first cousin. ‘Quit your shamming or you will have cause to regret it. Can you give me any reason why I should not summon the parish constable?’

      At the mention of the parish constable, the man sat straight up. His florid complexion paled as Tristan regarded his first cousin with a dispassionate eye. There was a vague family resemblance, but nothing remarkable.

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