Page 12 of The Inconvenient Compromise
He laughed. “It isn’t generosity, Fiona.The enemy of my enemy is my friend.You and Lady Ralston have something in common. Charlotte has been disappointed by you both."
“Oh… Penelope is Lady Ralston,” she said, remembering now all that had gone on. “Oh, dear. Charlotte would be very perturbed if we were to join forces.”
“Yes, well. That will come. First, we must see your parents.” Lucian offered a wordless gesture, and the maid simply deposited their cache of gowns on the nearest piece of furniture and left the room. When they were alone, he looked at her with concern. “Will your father be angry? This all happened in a very irregular manner.”
“He is always angry,” Fiona reflected. “But ultimately, I am one less person he will have to support. I imagine he will raise a great hue and cry over the prospect of a marriage portion. There isn’t one, of course. He’s long since squandered it.”
“It isn’t needed,” he said. “And if necessary, I’m sure some small sum can be offered to your father in compensation. No doubt that would make your mother’s and sister’s existence more tolerable.”
It would.Until it sent her mother to the tables.Even a hint of prosperity could result in a bout of frenzied gaming. “Could we simply invite my sister to stay with us indefinitely? At least until she makes a match of her own. If we sponsored her first season, that would likely be more of a relief to my father and would keep my mother from wagering it all away.”
“As you wish, Fiona,” he conceded. “I will do whatever I can to make things easier for you—to give you no cause to regret this marriage.”
“I will do the same,” she offered impulsively. “Surely, if we are both willing to keep one another’s comfort and happiness as our aim, we might make a go of it.”
He grinned. “More than a go, Fiona. A success.”
Then he crossed the room, closing the distance between them. When he swept her into his arms, she offered no resistance—no hesitation. She went eagerly, welcoming his kiss and the beautiful oblivion it offered. When he was kissing her, she didn’t have the ability to fear their future together, and that was a kind of happiness in and of itself.
Fiona sank against him, grateful at that moment for the sense of safety she felt when surrounded by his strong arms. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face the fury of her father. Today, she thought, today is mine to savor.
TEN
Monday—afternoon…
Charlotte accepted the proffered tea cup with practiced and graceful ease. Lady Habersham had not been alone when she arrived. Another woman, Miss Fennelworth, was with her. The name was familiar to Charlotte though she could not immediately recall why.
As they enjoyed their lackluster tea and overly sweet biscuits, that became abundantly clear. The woman’s sister had recently married Algernon Dunn, and there was, apparently, no small amount of animosity between the lot of them—the sisters.
The woman was irksome, but she might prove useful at some point. To that end, Charlotte carefully cataloged all that she said, filing it away for future use. Dunne’s sister was not married to Lord Burke, and they had many powerful connections. Mrs. Fennelworth, despite her tiresome complaints and whining, was her key to that very exclusive group.
“She’s beyond ungrateful, Lady Habersham!” Mrs. Fennelworth complained. “After all, had I not so generously allowed my sister to come to London and live in our home, then she would never have met Mr. Dunne and married him. That she made such an excellent match can only be laid at my door, and yet they act as if I am some sort of monster—a wicked sister from a fairy story.”
“How unjustly you have been treated, madam,” Charlotte cooed at her. “I, too, have been betrayed by someone who I only wished to help. When it all comes out, the humiliation shall be unbearable.”
“Who has betrayed you so?” Lady Habersham asked, clearly eager for some new gossip. Mrs. Fennelworth’s complaints were already old news. “Was it that wretched little upstart? The Weddington chit?”
“No, indeed, it was not, Lady Habersham,” Charlotte said in a conspiratorial whisper. Leaning in but not bothering to lower her voice, she said, “It was Miss Fiona Trimble. Although she is no longer a mere miss. By now, she will have the title of countess.”
Lady Habersham’s brows shot upward, nearly reaching her wig. “But the Earl of Kenworth eloped with Miss Stamford!”
Charlotte let out a little hiccuping sob and dabbed at her dry eyes with a delicately embroidered handkerchief. “I thought she loved him. Truly, I did. I believed that I was aiding the course of true love when we set out after Kenworth and his runaway bride… and all along, she could not have cared less about him. It was only the title she was after.”
Mrs. Fennelworth shook her head, commiserating in their shared misery. “Social climbers are the worst sort of opportunists… my own sister included in that.”
Charlotte offered a simpering smile in the other woman’s direction. “Indeed, Mrs. Fennelworth. We have both been badly used by those we have trusted. Miss Trimble used me to help her gain access to Kenworth, and when Kenworth married Miss Stamford, she—oh, I cannot confess it. You will both think so poorly of me!”
Lady Habersham reached over and patted Charlotte’s hand comfortingly. “My dear, Lady Bruxton, we would never think badly of you. You may say whatever you wish to us… we will be your most trusted companions.”
Charlotte raised her hand, ostensibly to dab at tears, but in truth, it was to hide the smirk on her lips. “There is no love between myself and my husband. It was an arranged marriage, as you know, and we live our lives quite separately from one another… I turn a blind eye to his affairs, and he has turned a blind eye to mine. Lucian Maxwell has been my lover for months. In truth, I believe he is the love of my life. The other half of my soul.”
Lady Habersham looked positively gleeful. Mrs. Fennelworth was on the edge of her seat.
Charlotte continued, “But Lucian recently inherited an earldom—an obscure Scottish title through his mother’s family—and Miss Trimble knew of it. She knew of it just as she knew of my relationship with him. When Kenworth was no longer available to her, she… she—” Charlotte broke down sobbing.
“What? What did she do?” Lady Habersham all but shrieked.
“Miss Trimble trapped him in a compromising position, and now she has married him… When my husband has only a few short years, at most, left on this earth, then Lucian and I would be free to be together.” More sobs followed. Deep, wracking sobs that were entirely fabricated. But they provided the appropriate flourish to the story. A convincingly heartbroken performance would secure Lady Habersham’s sympathy, and that would, in turn, secure the sympathy of most ofthe Ton. She would see them turn on Lucian and Fiona. They would be ruined socially, and she would retain her position. That was the goal, at all costs.
