Page 47 of His Lordship's True Lady
Was it late, or was Uncle up to one of his stratagems?
Lily liked Oscar, to the extent she could afford to like anybody. They left each other alone, which was a form of kindness.
“How many cravat pins do you have, Oscar?”
“Scads.”
“Lose one or two and take them to the pawnbrokers,” Lily said. “Don’t give them to your valet to pawn. You do it yourself, lest anybody question Lumley about his errand. Take your old boots to another pawnbroker in a different part of Town and claim you lost them as the result of a drunken wager. Try to put the funds where nobody will find them, but if a maid cleaning your room should come upon your money and bring it to Uncle’s attention, say you won it at cards.”
The sounds of a normal morning routine came from inside the stable. Horses munching hay, a groom whistlingGod Save the Kingwhile he swept the aisle. This conversation wasn’t normal, though, not between Lily and her cousin.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Oscar said. “I know Papa keeps a close eye on you. I hadn’t realized it was that bad.”
Because Lily and Uncle Walter made sure nobody realized exactly how contentious their relationship was.
“I manage,” Lily said. “Once you have a few pounds together, take them to Worth Kettering to invest. He’s discreet and canny, and your small sum will soon grow.”
Oscar burped, perfuming the morning air with stale wine and garlic. “Papa wants to invest with Kettering. I’ve wondered if the Ferguson side of your family does business through him. They have the paternal portion of your inheritance to manage.”
Since leaving her finishing school, Lily hadn’t seen the Ferguson side of the family. Mama’s husband had been a younger son of an Irish ducal family, and they preferred their seat to anything resembling English soil. Once a year, the current duke wrote to her, and he wrote back. All very proper and hopeless.
“How do you know the Fergusons are minding my father’s fortune?” Lily knew it, because Walter had explained the finances to her in detail more than ten years ago.
“I’m lazy,” Oscar said, “I’m not stupid. Any hatpin will open the drawers to Papa’s desk, and if he don’t want me poking about in his study, then he shouldn’t keep our best brandy on his sideboard. Though lately, even the best brandy hasn’t been worth the bother.”
The joy filling Lily as a result of her dawn ride was fading, like a creeping fog obliterates the sun.
“Is Uncle in financial difficulties?”
“How can he be in difficulties when he has the Leggett half of your fortune to bring him right? I’m not saying he’d steal from you, but he might make himself a small loan to weather a rough patch.”
Walter Leggett would steal from Old Scratch himself.
“Get whatever money you can to Worth Kettering,” Lily said. “Do it yourself, don’t trust the servants.”
“Not even Lumley,” Oscar murmured, suggesting he was sober enough to grasp the import of the conversation. “I can be careful. You be careful too, Lily. I’ve heard you’re spending time with Kettering’s titled brother. Is that at Papa’s behest?”
Well, yes. Initially. “I enjoy the earl’s company. Grampion doesn’t put on airs and he’s sensible.”
“And if you can bag that one,” Oscar said, squinting down the neck of his empty bottle, “you’d dwell in Cumberland, far from Uncle’s reach. He’ll never let Grampion pay you his addresses though.”
“You seem quite certain of your conclusion.”
Oscar tossed the bottle into the bushes. “Lily, if Papa’s in dun territory and dipping into your funds to cover his losses, the last thing he’ll do is get into settlement negotiations with the Kettering family. Before a titled lord takes a bride, her family’s finances and his family’s finances are shared in detail. Your Ferguson relations will bestir themselves to get involved, and then you have an earl and a duke peering at Papa’s ledger books. He won’t like that.”
Lily’s hopes—so fragile and new—took a bludgeoning. Oscar, hen-witted bon vivant and fashion plate, had seen what she had not.
“I have been an idiot.”
Oscar patted her arm. “You’re pretty. You needn’t be clever.”
She rose and paced away from the mounting block. She liked Oscar well enough, but she didn’t like him touching her even with tipsy affection. Then too, he needed a bath and a long session with his toothpowder.
“I have been too focused on missing earbobs when I should have seen the larger context.”
“You’re not wearing earbobs.”
And Lily hadn’t beenthinking. She’d been dreaming of a serious, passionate earl who intended to make an appointment to speak with Uncle Walter next week. Good God, what a muddle.
