Part 2 (1/2)
The little girl, who strongly resembled her mother, looked as if she shared all of Lucy's misgivings, but she made a creditable curtsy. Lucy returned the honor, which made the little girl smile, but then she tucked herself into her mother's skirts.
Lucy would not feel a kindred spirit with the mite.
”I must hurry home,” she said. ”I just went to share the good news with my friend.”
”Miss Hanway. I understand she is to marry as soon as Mr. Hanway is safe home. Our weddings could take place in close succession.”
”An abundance of joy,” Lucy said brightly and went into her house, praying to all the powers that Charlotte Johnson not follow her in.
She didn't, but Lucy wondered if Mrs. Johnson had been on her way here but had been perceptive enough to see that it would be a bad time. Unreasonable to find the woman's virtues intolerable, but she didn't feel reasonable about any of this.
She had her escape, however, and it would give her time to think, time to find a way. After all, even if her father had a son, it would be decades before the lad could play a meaningful part in the business, so perhaps he'd come to see that he still needed her.
Would that be enough?
It would be a start, and she did have her thirty thousand pounds. She could begin her own business with that, carve her own place in the City. She certainly had no intention of handing it over to a wastrel lord.
The first step was to compose herself and find a way to tell her father of the plan to visit her aunt without revealing the reason for it.
She went to him in his office, attempting as lighthearted a manner as possible.
”Lord Penniless has made me think I should take up Aunt Mary's offer. It will be interesting to see the n.o.bility at play, and I suppose it's possible that I might lose my heart to a lord.”
She feared he understood all too well, but he approved. ”An excellent idea, pet. You've always enjoyed parties and dancing, and a wider knowledge of the world never comes amiss.”
”Just for a few weeks, of course,” Lucy said. ”I'll be back for your wedding.”
”And with interesting stories to tell. Perhaps you'll identify Lord Penniless and find he's more worthy than he seems.”
Lucy returned to her room fighting tears again. Her father had clearly been relieved. He probably hoped she'd marry Lord Penniless and never return home at all.
She almost hoped she did identify that idiot, for then at least she'd have someone upon whom to vent her frustrations.
Chapter 2.
The south Devon coast
May 13, 1817
David Kerslake-Somerford, the reluctant seventh Earl of Wyvern, was relaxing over ale with a friend. They were in the earldom's seat, Crag Wyvern, in the room he chose, tongue in cheek, to call his lair.
He'd been born and raised in nearby Kerslake Manor as foster son of his aunt and uncle, and when he'd claimed the earldom, and thus been obliged to take up residence in this mock-medieval monstrosity, he'd done his best to create something as normal here. He'd had the earl's bedchamber and adjoining parlor stripped and scoured-necessary, when his predecessor had been known as the Mad Earl-then remade.
The walls of the parlor were now paneled and painted, the ceiling plastered, the floor carpeted. He'd economized by buying most things secondhand, but he'd indulged in one way-he'd had a window knocked into the outer walls here and in his bedroom.
Crag Wyvern had been built two hundred years ago to look like a stark medieval keep, and had only arrow slits in the outer walls. The rooms did have windows, but they all looked inward to a courtyard, not out to open vistas. Now his private rooms had windows that looked out to sea, which was pleasant but also practical. He needed to see what went on out there, because in addition to being the earl, he was also deeply involved in the Freetrade. In smuggling.
He was a strapping young man with broad shoulders and long legs, but a lifetime on the hills and cliffs of this coast had made him lean. His jaw was square, his careless hair a blond that was close to brown, and his eyes a changeable gray-blue.
His friend was also fair haired, rather more so, and of lighter build, but he, too, looked as if he could climb cliffs if he needed to. His name was Nicholas Delaney, and he rode over frequently from his Somerset estate to help and advise.
Until last year, David had been employed as the Earl of Wyvern's estate manager, which was as good a position as could be hoped for when he was known to be the b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of Miss Isabelle Kerslake and a tavern keeper. He and his sister, Susan, could have been raised in a tavern if his mother hadn't abandoned her children to her brother and sister-in-law. Coming from Kerslake Manor had given Susan and him a tenuous place in the gentry.
He'd been happy enough with his job, but then his life had been turned upside down.
Proof had been discovered that his mother had been married to the Earl of Wyvern when she'd borne her children. Despite the fact that she'd already fled the marriage and was living with another man, that made her children legitimately her husband's, and David the legal heir.
David hadn't leapt at the chance. He had many reasons not to want to be earl.
A major one was that he wasn't the son of the previous earl, no matter what the legal situation. In addition, he much preferred a simpler station and home like the manor. And what sane man would want the responsibility of a bankrupt and neglected estate?
But above all, it would tangle badly with his position as Captain Drake, leader of the local smuggling gang, the Dragon's Horde, which he'd inherited from his true father, Melchisadeck Clyst.
Eighteen months ago Mel Clyst had been caught and transported to the Australian penal colony Botany Bay. John Clyst, a nephew and his designated heir, had been killed in the same disaster. David had been the only person the remains of the Horde would accept as the new Captain Drake. Juggling his legal and illegal responsibilities was likely to turn him into another Mad Earl of Wyvern and he'd always known it.
In the end, however, he'd agreed to a.s.sert his claim for the sake of others.
The man everyone had believed to be heir to the earldom, Lord Amleigh, had a fine home of his own and wanted no part of the t.i.tle or Crag Wyvern. That might not have swayed David if his sister, Susan, hadn't been in love with Amleigh and wanted what he wanted. In addition, if David accepted that he was the earl's legitimate son, it would follow that his elder sister was also legitimate, and Susan had wanted to begin her married life free of the stain of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy.
So he'd taken on the burden and was doing the best he could.
Including by marrying money.
”So you've settled on Miss Potter?” Nicholas said.
”Largest dowry,” David said, ”plus her being an only child. She could inherit the lot, and though they live quite simply, her father's notoriously rich.”
”With very lowly origins.”
”I took that into account. A man like that will be giddy with triumph at his daughter being a countess, so he won't blink at my oddities. I've instructed my solicitor to write to Potter on the matter.”
Nicholas paused in the act of drinking. ”Isn't that a trifle old-fas.h.i.+oned?”
”You think I should go up to London to woo her? I prefer an honest, businesslike approach, and I can't leave the Horde unshackled for weeks.”
”You need to find a replacement for Captain Drake.”
”Applying?”
Nicholas raised a hand. ”I thank G.o.d I live too far away. But is it so difficult?”
”A few generations ago it required only toughness, brains, and organizational ability. . . .”