Page 66 of Not Quite a Lady
Iampursuing him.But only to apologise.I could write.That would be cowardly. One should face up to things when one made a mistake.
He would be home by now, after that interminable stage coach journey. She was feeling tired and frazzled and she had been in her own comfortable carriage for just one day, able to stop whenever she wanted and without a bullet wound in her arm. Stubborn man. Stupid, proud, stubborn man. Brave, proud, stubborn man.
I love you. I ought to go home. I am not brave enough to do this. I will go home in the morning.
‘A mistress?’ Penelope stared at her eldest sister in horror.‘Papa?’
‘Several mistresses. Very expensive ones by all accounts,’ Caroline said grimly. ‘Oh stop frowning at me, Jack. She ought to know, she is old enough.’
‘Well, I think men are beastly. All of them,’ Penny blurted out.
‘I haven’t got any expensive mistresses,’ Jack protested, only to be glared at by all three girls. ‘Nor cheap ones either.’
‘Do you mean to say,’ Penelope demanded, set on getting to the bottom of the entire sordid business now, ‘Do you mean that when Papa was away so much in London, he wasn’t sitting in the Lords, or looking after business at all?’
‘He was gambling and wenching and spending money,’ Caroline said ruthlessly, ignoring Jack’s attempts to silence her. ‘And all Jack inherited were debts. Piles of them. It is entirely due to Jack that we are not all in a debtors’ prison now.’
‘Poor Mama,’ Susan lamented.
‘Does she know?’
‘Of course she knows, she knew all the time. And when you attack your poor brother, who works and worries to keep a roof over your head, how do you think it makes her feel?’
‘I couldn’t help it, I didn’t know,’ Penelope said indignantly. ‘I am sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have said it, even if it were true. But how horrible for Mama. I do not think I ought to get married. I think I should stay unmarried and be a Comfort to her.’
Despite everything, Jack felt a bubble of laughter rising in his chest. Desperately keeping from making eye contact with Caroline he said seriously, ‘I would much rather you did get married, Penny. It would be less of a financial burden to me if you did.’
‘Oh. Well, if it would help, I will try and find a rich husband as soon as possible. Is it all right to ask them first about mistresses? After all, I think I should check.’
‘No!’ Susan and Caroline chorused.
‘If you say so,’ she said doubtfully. ‘And Caro can marry Mr Willoughby.’ She ignored her sister’s blushes and explained, ‘He is very nice, but ratherdull,and not very rich. And quite old.’
Caroline rolled her eyes at Jack who shrugged sympathetically, then felt the humour drain out of his veins as Penelope added brightly, ‘And Jack is very handsome, as well as being a earl, so he can find a rich wife easily. You should have looked for one in London, but I expect you did not think of it, being so tied up with business.’
She frowned over the problem. ‘I think you should go straight back there, it must be the best place to find them. And we should all contribute our dress allowances so you can buy some fashionable clothes.’
Jack fought to keep the mildly amused smile on his face. ‘That is a very noble offer, Penny, but I am afraid none of the rich ladies would want me. I met lots in London and they all prefer dukes and rich men. Poor earls are quite out of fashion.
‘Anyway, I have a plan. I had hoped to find investors, because that seemed the least risky option, but I will borrow from the bank instead, so you can be quite comfortable and keep your dress allowance. And you will not have to interrogate rich bachelors about their mistresses either.’
‘Well, that is a relief,’ Caro said brightly. ‘I think you had better go to bed now, Penny.’
‘All right.’ Penelope kissed Jack goodnight, then looked her surprise when Susan joined her. ‘You too?’
The door remained ajar after they went out and Penny’s whisper came back clearly. ‘I expect you are just being tactful aren’t you? I expect Caro wants to talk to Jack about Mr Willoughby.’
‘Impossible child!’ Caro laughed and for a moment Jack thought he had got away with it.
Then his sister’s wide grey gaze became solemn. ‘Tell meabout her. There is someone, isn’t there? Is it the rich spinster with the riot outside her house? Miss France?’
Could he talk about it, even to Caro? Why not? His damned pride again he supposed.
‘Yes. Miss France. Lily.’
‘How pretty. Not an elderly spinster then, whatever Mama thinks?’
‘No. She is twenty five or six. Tall, red-headed, very lovely. Very, very rich. A tea merchant’s daughter and heiress. She is spoilt, stubborn, interfering, opinionated, bossy, insensitive, has absolutely no taste…’
