Daniel, on the other hand, had always been a bit rough around the edges—not that he didn’t know how to behave, for he could be just as suave and elegant as the rest of them, perhaps more so when he set his mind to it. But when the chance to race or gamble or, heaven forbid, accept a dare to swim nak*d in the Serpentine after nightfall had presented itself, he’d always found it hard to resist.
And then of course there had been the women. He was young though and refused to apologize for his appetite in that department, particularly when he hadn’t deflowered anyone and the women themselves had practically begged him to take them to bed. Yes, he’d flirted with a few young innocents, but it had only been for show, a bit of a kick in the shin for the ton that he so despised. When would they learn that they weren’t in the least bit superior when it came to morality, gossiping about each other the way they did, committing adultery behind closed doors, snubbing anyone who didn’t dress with just the right amount of flair or wore a color that had said adieu to fashion the previous week?
Never would be the answer to that question.
“The Griftons will only allow me to marry her if I am able to pay them thirteen thousand pounds.”
At this, Audrey leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on Daniel. She took a deep breath, then exhaled it. “That is a rather exorbitant amount.”
“I know. Naturally, I would never even think to ask you if I knew that I would be able to seek help elsewhere, but there is none other than you and Uncle who might be able to lend me such a large sum. I went to Uncle first, hoping that he would assist, since I’m trying to do as he asked, but he refused. He wants me to find a way to resolve the issue on my own, even if that means abandoning all hope of marrying Lady Rebecca, which I cannot.”
“She has clearly affected you greatly,” Audrey said, her words softly spoken and pensive.
“More than you can possibly know. Indeed, I cannot think of anything but her.”
“And this eagerness of yours to make her your bride, is it for her benefit as much as it is yours?”
“Of course it is,” Daniel said. “She’ll be free from the Griftons and from having to marry Topperly or Grover.”
“What I am asking, Daniel, is whether you have her best interests at heart and are doing this partly because you wish to rescue her, or if your only motivation is to maintain your allowance.”
“I . . .” Daniel began. “I don’t enjoy seeing her distressed and ill-treated. While it will not be a love match, her happiness is important to me, and I believe that I will make her happier than either Topperly or Grover.”
Audrey nodded but said nothing further. Instead, she rose to her feet and walked across to her escritoire, took a seat, placed a piece of paper in front of her and dipped her quill in the ink pot. “Michael will never give you such a large sum,” she said as she began to write. “He thinks you too untrustworthy, given your spending habits.”
Daniel’s heart fell. He liked his brother-in-law well enough and even admired the ease with which he seemed to run his estates. His sister had done well by marrying him, for he was the sort of man who took care of his finances, nurtured them and watched his investments profit.
After scribbling a few more lines, Audrey put her quill aside, folded the piece of paper neatly, then closed it with a seal depicting a bird in flight. She turned in her seat and offered the missive to Daniel. “But I will.”
Dumbfounded by her generosity, Daniel slowly picked the paper from her hand.
“In my letter,” she said, “I have assured the Griftons that if they allow Lady Rebecca to marry you, I will supply them with the funds that they require.”
Daniel stared at her. “I had no idea you were so independently wealthy.”
She tilted her head. “Part of it is from my dowry, which was substantial. When Michael and I married, he and Uncle drew up a settlement that was entirely to my benefit. I was given full access to all of my funds and was granted additional pin money from Michael. Since I’m not a frivolous spender, I’ve set most of that aside with the intention of saving it for the future.”
Daniel frowned. “Surely it is not necessary for you to be so careful.”
Audrey chuckled lightly. “It is no secret that women are at a disadvantage in our day and age, forever under the foot of one man or other. Should Michael and I ever be blessed with a daughter, I would like to leave her with something that belongs to nobody but her—to do with as she pleases. Which is why you must promise that you will repay this loan to me one day.”
Daniel stared down at the folded piece of paper. He swallowed hard, his chest tightening with the understanding of the sacrifice his sister was making on his behalf, and the extraordinary level of trust she was placing in him. “I will not fail you,” he said. “You have my word on it.”
Chapter 7
“Would you care for a game of cards, my lady?” Laura asked two days later.
Rebecca shrugged. She’d been feeling miserable all day. Not just from her shoulder wound, which still pained her, but from the hopelessness she felt at the thought of what awaited her. Mr. Neville still hadn’t returned, and Rebecca had begun losing hope that he would.
Laura, who was making a clear effort to be more positive, had told her that he could have been delayed by any number of things. But even if he did return, who was to say that her aunt and uncle wouldn’t turn him away? They might do it just to spite her. She certainly wouldn’t put it past them—especially not her aunt. She could well imagine her taking perverse pleasure in seeing Rebecca married off to an old relic. It was disheartening.
“How about a play?” Laura continued. “We could reenact Twelfth Night. I know how much you love that piece.”
Rebecca forced a smile. “True. It always makes me laugh.” She paused as she met Laura’s hopeful expression, then nodded. “Very well, Twelfth Night it is.”
They had just started on act five, scene one, with Laura saying, “Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?” when a soft tapping sound came from the window. Both women turned to stare. “Did you hear that, my lady?” Laura asked.
“It’s probably just a bird,” Rebecca said, eager to get on with the play. They were getting to her favorite part. “To fetch my poor distracted husband hence,” she continued. “Let us —”
Tap, tap, tap.
“Whatever it is, it’s really quite distracting,” Rebecca said, hands folded in her lap as she stared toward the window. Since it was late evening and dark outside, it was impossible for her to discern the source of the noise from her current position, especially with oil lanterns and a fire lighting her room.
“I’ll just have a look, shall I?” Laura said as she walked across to the window and looked out. She must have been unable to see anything, for she leaned closer, so close that her face was almost pressed up against the glass. There was a beat, and then she suddenly pulled back with a shriek.
Intrigued, Rebecca sat up a bit straighter. “What is it, Laura? What did you see?”
Laura turned toward her, ashen-faced. “Do you believe in ghosts, my lady?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Rebecca frowned. “Of course not, Laura.” Determined to investigate, she rose and tightened the sash of her dressing gown. “What is it with you? Ghosts indeed.”
“Well, then perhaps you’d care to explain how a man might be levitating outside your window.”
“A man what?” Skeptical but unwilling to dismiss Laura’s claim, considering how shaken she looked, Rebecca approached the window. She was certain that there had to be a logical explanation for this, but if there wasn’t and it was indeed a ghost, then she had every intention of seeing it for herself.
“Do be careful, my lady,” Laura warned as Rebecca went closer.
It wasn’t until she was all the way to the window and blocking some of the light from the room with her body that Rebecca finally caught a glimpse of a blurry face. She flinched a little but quickly regained her composure and continued her approach until the face sharpened around a pair of familiar eyes. Lord help her if it wasn’t Mr. Neville. How he’d gotten up there she dared not imagine, but her heart made a funny little leap at finding him returned. He had not forgotten about her after all.
Feeling almost giddy with the pleasure of her discovery, she undid the latch and opened the window just enough for her to pop her head outside. “Good evening, Mr. Neville,” she said, amazed by how nonchalant her voice sounded—as if his standing there perched on one of the last rungs of a rickety ladder had been the most natural thing in the world. “How are you doing?”
“Quite well,” he said, smiling up at her. “As you can see, I’m having a bit of an adventure.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” A bit of choked-back laughter from below drew her attention to two men holding the ladder steady. “And I see that you’ve brought friends with you.”
“Mr. Shaw and his son Gerard,” Mr. Neville said as he let go of the ladder with one hand and waved toward the men below.
“Pleased to meet you,” Rebecca called down to them.
“Shh!” Mr. Neville quieted her. “It took a lot of effort for me to accomplish this feat. I’d rather not ruin it so soon by being found out.”
“Is that so?” Rebecca asked. She finally allowed herself a smile—one of pure mischief. “And what exactly would you expect me to do upon discovering a dangerous intruder at my window?”
“Dangerous, eh?” One of Mr. Neville’s eyebrows shot up.
“Terrifying,” Rebecca said, her face once again serious to underscore the sarcasm.
“I don’t suppose a cup of tea is likely?”
The absurdity of Mr. Neville standing there on that ladder in the cold, looking up at her imploringly as he asked to be invited for tea, made it impossible for Rebecca to keep a straight face. Grinning back at him, she shook her head with resignation. “What about Mr. Shaw and his son? What will they do while they wait for you?”
The look on Mr. Neville’s face suggested that this was a part of the plan he hadn’t considered. Turning slightly, he looked down at their upturned faces. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come back and fetch me in an hour?” he asked.
“Add a couple of shillings and we’ll be happy to,” Mr. Shaw told him.
Mr. Neville looked back at Rebecca. “Move aside, please, my lady. I’m coming in.”
Given his size, Rebecca had to admit that she was quite impressed with how nimbly Mr. Neville entered her room through the window, landing on his feet with the stealth of a cat.
“My lady, this is highly irregular,” Laura said from somewhere behind Rebecca’s right shoulder. “I realize that you mean to marry him, but to invite a gentleman into your bedchamber . . . it’s scandalous, not to mention the punishment that will likely befall us all if your aunt and uncle find out.”
Rebecca turned toward her maid with a smile. “But they won’t find out, Laura. Besides, this is hardly any worse than you suggesting that I drugged you so I could escape your care and attend the ball. Yes, it may be unconventional, it’s true, but you’re here to protect my virtue.”