Page 41 of His Lordship's True Lady
“Lady Nadine—then Lady Alfred, for she married Lord Alfred Ferguson—got to enjoying her widowhood, and little more than a year after losing her husband, she was off on an extended stay in Rome. You know what that means.”
Penelope peered at Roberta over one of the last two crystal glasses in everyday use. “She needed to work on her Italian?”
Roberta helped herself to a tea cake, though she’d had several already. “Was that an attempt to be humorous? Lady Nadine was an earl’s daughter. Her skill with languages was impeccable, while her common sense was never sufficiently in evidence. She’d got herself in trouble, and while a child appearing directly after a man’s death might be considered his offspring, Nadine’s problem presented itself too long after any claim of legitimacy might have been made.”
Penelope set down her glass. “That must have been very difficult for all concerned.”
“Very embarrassing. As an old and dear friend, Lady Nadine could of course rely on my discretion, though others would not have been so kind. I never learned what became of the girl, and either the Leggett money or a belated dose of discretion kept the situation from becoming common knowledge.”
Roberta rose, because this recitation of ancient history was stirring her imagination, and an active mind could be aided by an active body.
“I suppose,” Penelope said, “these things happen in the best families. My papa always says a title is no guarantee of sense.”
And lack of one no guarantee of brains. “Dorie Humplewit would not have kept Lady Nadine’s confidences as I have.”
“You are a very loyal friend.”
Dorie Humplewit would have turned the whole situation to coin somehow. Shewould have blackmailed Walter Leggett, compromised him, blackmailed himandcompromised him…
“Walter is a cold fish, for all he smiles and nods at the right times.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Walter Leggett. He has pots of money.”
Penelope finished her second sandwich and her lemonade while Roberta paced the parlor.
“I have no wish to become Mrs. Walter Leggett.” She would not mind in the least having his money, though. “I’d have to entertain, put up with Walter’s wastrel son, and share a household with Miss Lily Ferguson.”
“Is Mr. Leggett attempting to court you?” Penelope asked around a mouthful of tea cake.
“He would be if I wanted him to be, but one shudders to contemplate fulfillment of one’s wifely duties. The colonel, God rest his soul, was all the husband I could ever need or want.”
Roberta took another turn around the parlor, mentally assessing relationships, assets, and what information she had.
“Did Grampion appear to favor Miss Ferguson?” For this was key to the plan taking shape in Roberta’s mind.
“I would say that, well, in my opinion, he did. Nothing improper, of course, but they were on a picnic blanket, sitting rather close, and Miss Ferguson didn’t seem to mind.”
“Grampion is a widowed earl on the prowl for a countess. Lily Ferguson would not have minded if he’d ripped off his clothing and sat in her lap.”
Penelope’s pale brows drew down. “Whyever would he—?”
“Fetch your workbasket, before you drive me daft, please.”
Penelope dutifully trotted off, and must have fetched her workbasket by way of King’s Cross, for she was gone long enough that Roberta’s thoughts could organize themselves. Grampion had the girl, Grampion had money. Roberta wanted the girl, because Roberta wanted Grampion’s money.
Not a huge sum, a few hundred pounds a year would do. Maybe a thousand. Amy Marguerite must not want for anything.
Grampion also, apparently, had taken a liking to Miss Lily Ferguson, and she to him. Neitherpartihad caught the eye of any other marital prospect—the society pages would have mentioned an heiress or an earl paying notable attention to a prospective spouse.
So the plan became quite simple: Miss Lily Ferguson must convince Grampion that Amy Marguerite—and a portion of the earl’s money—belonged with Roberta, or Roberta feared Lady Nadine’s letters might fall into the wrong hands.
Not even Dorie Humplewit on her most bold, ingenious day could have come up with such an elegant, effective solution.
Chapter Nine
I will kill Walter Leggett.
