Page 42 of A Date with Dishonor
‘Do you want to go home, Bea?’
Beatrice pulled a face, looking undecided. Eventually she nodded. ‘But I don’t want to spoil things for you if you’d sooner stay in London. Aunt Dolly has said we may lodge with her if you think we are outstaying our welcome with the Chapmans.’
‘I’ll forgo Aunt Dolly’s company if you’ve done enough husband-hunting.’ Elise gave a rueful chuckle. ‘But I shall miss the opportunity to observe how Jago and Verity fare.’ Elise was certain that Mrs Clemence’s invitation had been issued at her son’s behest. Elise wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Jago had attended the ladies’ tea party simply to devote more time to her friend. Elise had hoped to take her sister’s mind off her own troubles, but when Bea dipped her head to dab at her eyes she realised she’d been tactless mentioning that blossoming relationship.
The matter of the money owed to her papa by Thomas Venner was constantly on Elise’s mind and once or twice she had almost confided in Bea that there might be a way. But she knew if she raised her sister’s hopes and it all came to nought because the sum was small, Bea would be even further in the doldrums than she was now. So Elise had stayed silent on the matter of the possibility of a dowry, hoping soon to hear further from Alex. She was sure there must be a way for him to discover—perhaps from a solicitor who knew of the transaction between their kin—how much the debt was and whether it might make a difference to Bea’s future.
‘Come...let’s not stay cooped up, but go out and get some air,’ Elise urged, as golden warmth filtered through the lightweight curtains. ‘The sun has come out and we can take a walk and do some window shopping.’ She gave her sister’s forearm an encouraging shake. ‘It might be the last opportunity we get to enjoy Regent Street if we are to return home soon.’
* * *
Robinson phlegmatically regarded the portly individual standing on the top flag of a gracious flight of York stone that descended to Upper Brook Street’s cobbles. The fellow looked as though the climb had exerted him: his fat cheeks were florid and his vibrating chest was straining buttons on his garish waistcoat. But it was the visitor’s pompous expression that grated on the servant. He had overheard conversations between his master and Hugh Kendrick in which it was apparent they found this fellow’s company repugnant. Robinson could understand why that was.
Nevertheless the butler knew his master had had recent business dealings with Mr Whittiker so tonelessly invited him into the opulent hallway of the viscount’s mansion. He led the way past soaring marble pillars and a twin sweep of graceful walnut banisters to indicate one of a pair of intricately carved ebony chairs, set against a pastel wall. Once the man had seated himself—with a bitter look at his sumptuous surroundings—Robinson announced he would ascertain whether Viscount Blackthorne was able to receive a caller despite suspecting it would be a wasted journey.
* * *
Alex had been absently tapping a pen on a blotter, his thoughts with Elise, when his butler arrived to tell him James Whittiker wanted an audience. In front of Alex on his desk was his late uncle’s bequest. He had reread it several times in the last hour, hoping to spot something he’d missed previously. But still the damnable document failed to reveal an amount owed to Mr Dewey. Alex knew he would return to Elise’s father every penny he was due so he must try to shed some light on the matter. His need to settle with Walter Dewey wasn’t solely in the hope the funds might assist the ill-starred lovers by providing Beatrice with a dowry. Hugh and he had been good friends since schooldays, but gaining Elise’s trust and approval was Alex’s prime motivation. For a reason he’d yet to fathom a girl with golden eyes and overwhelming filial duty had intrigued and obsessed him in a way no ambitious débutante or seasoned courtesan could. He thought her beautiful, although he realised some people would consider her too thin and passably pretty. Those same people might think her character lacking vivacity, whereas he found her quiet wit and caring nature far more endearing than the shallow gaiety displayed by a good number of beau monde débutantes.
Mostly he desired her. He’d come close to losing control and seducing her at Vauxhall and even now just the memory of her silky mouth and warm pliant curves could cause an inferno to ignite within. Since then, whenever they were close, her slender figure captivated him causing his fingers to itch to touch her, making him forget his mistress’s voluptuous body was readily available to him when the urge for a woman was undeniable.
