Page 107 of The Scoundrel's Daughter
It’s not working,” Lucy told Gerald as soon as she could grab a moment alone with him. Lord and Lady Falconer’s rout was already a “sad squeeze,” and more people were arriving every minute.
The news about their betrothal was well and truly out, and many people had come up to congratulate her. Some, of course, were less welcoming of the news, the Countess of Charlton being one of them. Almeria was circulating among her friends, telling people that it was a mistake, that it would be called off as soon as her son came to his senses and that “that Bamber creature,” as she was calling Lucy, had entrapped him.
“Don’t worry about Almeria,” Alice told her. “The more people she tells that kind of thing to, the more sympathy you’re getting. It’s extremely bad form of her to be so obviously antagonistic toward her son’s choice—particularly whenheseems so happy. Besides, anybody who knows Gerald knows he’s not the kind of man to be entrapped by anyone.”
But whatever slander Almeria was spreading about Lucy didn’t bother her. It was, after all, a false betrothal. Almeria would get her victory in the end, much as it would vex Lucy to have to grant it to her.
“What’s not working?” Gerald asked.
“It’s been two days now since the betrothal was posted in the newspapers, and there has been no word from Papa.”
“I know,” Gerald said.
Lucy frowned up at him. “How do you know?”
“I’ve had men watching the house ever since dawn that first morning.”
Men watching the house? Lucy wasn’t sure what she thought about that. Lying in wait for Papa as if he were a criminal.
But hewasa criminal. He’d blackmailed Alice. He’dalso failed to give her the money he’d promised her. Lucy knew full well that Alice was now paying for all Lucy’s needs out of her own pocket—a pocket that was lean at best.
And she knew he owed many people money. And that some of his schemes had resulted in serious losses for his investors, though not Papa, never for Papa. So, yes, he was a cheat and a blackmailer—a criminal. She couldn’t deny it.
But he was still her father. And though he hadn’t ever been much of a parent, he had done his best for her, according to his own peculiar and haphazard standards. Hehadput her in the finest schools—even if she was later expelled for his failure to pay the bills. And hehadintended she would benefit from her time with Frau Steiner and the comtesse—and shehadlearned from them, even if most of the time they’d used her as a maidservant.
Papa always come up with schemes that sounded good. He just wasn’t very good at carrying them out. Or was it that he simply didn’t care about the people he involved in his schemes, as long as he benefited in the end?
Oh, Papa... Had he always been like this? Even with Mama? She couldn’t tell; she’d been too young. But probably he was just the same. They’d moved so often, and she was sure that wasn’t Mama’s choice.
“How long do you think we should give it?” she asked Gerald.
“How long for what?”
“Our betrothal. If it doesn’t bring Papa and the letters to us, there’s not much point in going on, is there?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time yet,” he said easily.
“I suppose.” She glanced across to where Almeria was leaning in close to one of her cronies, whispering furiously in her ear, all the while sending dagger looks at Lucy.
Brightening, Lucy sent the woman a wide smile and twinkled her fingers at Almeria in a gleeful wave. Almeria stiffened in outrage and resumed the vehement whispering.
Lucy laughed. Yes, indeed, there was still plenty of time to enjoy the fruits of her betrothal.
***
Do you have any engagements for Thursday next?” James said as he escorted Alice in to supper. Lord and Lady Falconer were known for the quality of their suppers. James was hoping for crab or lobster patties.
She turned her head sharply. “Thursday next? You mean the day after tomorrow? Is that when—we, er, you plan to, um...?”
“Yes, I’m hoping for ‘um’ on Thursday, if that suits you.”
She glanced furtively around. “And you’re asking me here? In this company?”
His eyes danced but he said solemnly, “It is perfectly proper to inquire about a lady’s social arrangements, whether in company or not.” And then he added, for he could see his question had seriously discomposed her, “I simply wish to invite you to take a turn in my new carriage, Lady Charlton.”
“Your carriage?”
“Yes, my carriage.”
