Page 24 of The Inconvenient Compromise
He simply shook his head. “You’ve been in society long enough to know that isn’t true. A single strand of pearls, as lovely as they are on you, will not suffice… Come with me.”
Fiona followed him out of the bedchamber and into the small sitting room that, under other circumstances, would have separated their bedchambers. But he’d made it clear when directing Moira earlier in the day that his clothes should be arranged in her suite that theirs would not be that sort of marriage.
On a small table near the fireplace was a hamper from Fortnum & Mason. Next to that hamper was another velvet-covered box, this one much larger.
“Open it,” he urged.
Fiona’s hands were trembling as she lifted the lid to that box. The necklace was not overly ornate. Again, he seemed to understand that she preferred something simple. Composed of small, alternating diamonds and pearls that would encircle her throat, a single cabochon emerald was suspended from the center of the choker. No larger than her thumbnail, the emerald was exquisite but far from a gauche display. A bracelet to match, minus the emerald, lay in the center of it, and small earbobs were present as well.
She’d never owned a parure in her life, not even one made of paste. The only jewelry she’d ever owned, in fact, was the single pearl necklace that he’d spoken of. It had been her grandmother’s and had been left to her. It was only still in her possession because she’d kept it hidden from her parents unless she was wearing it. Feeling tears stinging her eyes, Fiona dashed at them.
“I did not give you jewels to make you cry,” he protested.
“They’re beautiful. Excessive but beautiful. Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding slightly watery.
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m happy. Because, though we were total strangers only a week ago, you have been kinder to me than anyone else ever has… you’ve certainly been more generous. And you didn’t have to be. Perhaps that’s really why it means so much… you choose to be kind. You choose to treat me as if I’m something other than a burden.” It was true, and it terrified her. She didn’t want to need him. She didn’t want to depend on him. Yet with each passing day, that seemed to be more true. Despite her best efforts, he had charmed her, had wooed her, and had made her fall in love with him. That was something she could not admit. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
When his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, Fiona sank against him. She might never voice her feelings, but they would not be denied in every aspect. He only had to look at her, and she wanted to fall into his embrace.
His lips had just touched hers, still a chaste kiss but one filled with the promise of heat yet to come, when a knock sounded on the door.
Lucian sighed, his breath fanning over her lips as he pulled back. “We had more privacy in a hotel…. Enter!”
Moira opened the door. “I am sorry to intrude, my lord… my lady. But Miss Francesca Trimble has arrived.”
Fiona’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“I sent for her,” Lucian explained. “I knew how worried you were about her remaining in your parents' home. Now that the house is in some semblance of order, I thought we should proceed with the plan to have her stay here with us.”
“Miss Trimble is in the drawing room, ma’am. I’ve had her bags taken up to the gold room.”
It was a guest room at the opposite end of the corridor from their own chamber. She would be close but not close enough to overhear anything that transpired in their chamber. “Thank you, Moira. Have tea and some sort of refreshment sent in, and I shall be there in a moment.”
When they were alone once more, Fiona lifted onto her toes and pressed a kiss to Lucian’s lips. “Thank you. You are a far better man than you let anyone else know.”
“Only to you,” he said. “The rest of them can hang.”
Fiona smiled even as she sailed from the room.
* * *
Charlotte had givenall of the servants their half day, including her maid. Only the aging butler remained in the house. She had collected a total of fourteen hundred pounds. It was not what Estelle had demanded, but she could not do more without giving herself away. The woman would have to be content with it.
Climbing the stairs to the nursery, Charlotte unlocked the door and let herself inside. She was unprepared for the attack. While she’d anticipated that Estelle would be furious over having been locked in, she hadn’t thought the woman would attack her outright.
Feeling hands snatching at her hair even as she was pushed and shoved back into the corridor, Charlotte frantically tried to free herself from Estelle’s grasping hands. Breaking the other woman’s hold, Charlotte shoved her back enough that she could have a moment to reason with her. “Stop it! Estelle! You must cease at once.”
“How dare you lock me in that room like a prisoner!” Estelle snapped. “Haven’t I been locked up enough for doing your bidding?”
“I never told you to try and kill Penelope Dennings!” Charlotte snapped. “Nor did I tell you to make an attempt on the life of Isabella Stamford. If I’d wanted them dead, I would have hired someone to do it that would have no known connection to me! All you’ve done, Estelle, is make a muddle of everything and make the situation harder on us both!”
“You wretched, ungrateful…. bitch!”
Charlotte reached into her pocket and withdrew the wad of folded bank notes, and threw them at Estelle’s feet. “The servants have all gone for the day. Take what’s there and be off. I’ll not be extorted by you again.”
Estelle had grabbed up the notes, clutching them in her hands. Then she counted them. “This is not enough!”
