Page 23 of Three Weeks with a Princess
Personally, Lia thought her mother’s melodramatic pose was a bit much, but she had to admit she did it well. Mama was lovely, with big, expressive eyes, an enchanting manner, and a figure as slim and elegant as in her youth. Even her black hair remained untouched by gray markers of time, although Lia suspected a bit of artful assistance in that regard.
That no one would ever deduce that Marianne Lester had a twenty-two-year-old daughter was probably another reason she didn’t want Lia hanging about. It was hard to maintain the fiction of youth when one had a child full-grown.
“Tut-tut, my dear,” Mr. Lester said in a bracing tone. “We’ll think of something. And if nothing else, it’s quite lovely to have dear Lia for a visit. Why, the girl hasn’t been in London since she was a toddler. Think of all the fun we’ll have taking her out and about, visiting all the sights.”
Lia gave him a grateful smile. She was very fond of her stepfather, a middle-aged, ordinary-looking fellow with a receding hairline. He seemed more like a shopkeeper than a proficient playwright and a successful theater manager. Mr. Lester had spent years toiling in the provinces, building up his name and company and carefully accumulating funds and backers. Recently, he’d been able to lease a theater in London—in Holborn—and move his wife into a charming town house nearby.
On top of all those estimable qualities, he adored Marianne and clearly never held her past against her, including her bastard daughter. He’d always treated Lia with affection and respect, remembering her at Christmas and on her birthday, sending her packages of books and exceedingly kind letters full of news of the company and her mother’s successes.
“If you say so,” Mama said. Then she frowned at Lia. “But I’m not sure I understand your sense of urgency, dearest. Is Jack not paying your bills? Is he allowing that awful mother of his to kick up a fuss?”
Lia shook her head. “He’s been very kind and generous. But his uncle left him in a ghastly financial bind. He simply can’t go on supporting us like this for much longer.”
“But Lord Lendale did it for years. Is it truly so dire now?”
“Yes. And Lendale left us without a farthing to call our own,” Lia said. “I know he loved Granny, but he ended up leaving her high and dry.”
Her mother winced. “That is most distressing. I wouldn’t have thought he could be so careless.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Mr. Lester said gloomily. “I must agree with Lia’s assessment of the situation. Neither she nor your mother can rely on the new Lord Lendale.”
“Thank you,” Lia said, perhaps too emphatically.
“How dreary,” her mother said with a sigh. “But what does Jack think about this plan of yours? For such a kind man, heisrather a high stickler when it comes to female behavior—much like his mother in that regard, I’m afraid. He most certainly didn’t get it from his father,” she added with a knowing wink.
Jack’s father, Lord John Easton, had been almost as notorious as the Kincaid women because of his numerous, brazen affairs. Lia could only hope her mother’s analysis of Lord John was not based on personal experience. That simply didn’t bear thinking about.
“No point in digging up old stories about departed friends,” Mr. Lester hastily interjected. “But I must confess I’m curious about the current Lord Lendale’s reaction. Did he approve of your trip to London?”
“He was fine with it,” Lia said with an airy wave. “After all, my absence leaves him with one less problem to deal with.”
“I wish he’d dealt with it enough to hire you a chaise or lend you a carriage,” he said in a disapproving tone. “I can’t think what he was doing to allow you and Sarah to come by mail coach.”
Lia shrugged. “I suppose it just didn’t occur to him. Besides, it’s not really any of his business, is it? Jack is a friend, nothing more.”
Her mother and stepfather exchanged a dubious glance. Lia prayed they would let that particular detail drop; Jack would be furious if he learned she’d traveled to London on the mail coach.
Which was precisely why she hadn’t told him.
She hadn’t even told him she was going, instead leaving that bit up to Granny. There was little doubt that the annoyingly overprotective Lord Lendale would have done his best to stop her, and she couldn’t afford that. Jack would get over her departure soon enough and realize this was best for both of them.
“I do hope you’re not getting the sniffles,” her mother said, studying her with concern. “One can pick up such nasty infections on public conveyances.”
Lia blinked hard against incipient tears. “It’s just a little dust in my eye. Now, let’s get back to the problem at hand.”
Mama pouted. “Must we? Can’t we just pretend you’re in London for a little visit and leave it at that?”
Lia struggled against a wave of disappointment. For so long, she’d dreamed of being reunited with her mother; it was bitter medicine to realize her parent didn’t feel the same way. Still, she’d known for years that Mama, while charming and good-natured, was quite selfish. There was no point in lamenting her character at this stage or letting it get in the way of necessary plans.
“I’m afraid we cannot, Mama,” she said firmly. “Although if you find the discussion too taxing, perhaps I can just work things out with my stepfather.”
“Please call me Stephen, my dear,” he said. “We don’t stand on ceremony in this household.”
“And perhaps you can call me Marianne instead of Mama,” her mother added in a hopeful voice. “That doesn’t sound nearly as frumpish.”
Lia tried not to roll her eyes. “No one could ever be so silly as to call you frumpy, Mama. I mean, Marianne.”
When her mother beamed at her, Lia had to swallow a laugh. Flattery was clearly the right tack.
