And he had made certain she knew he was flirting.
Last night, they attended the opera. Glastonbury had offered Noah the use of his box, so Noah gladly invited Lord and Lady Claremont, as well as Leith and Miss Faulkner to join him and Lady Tabitha. The small grouping provided ample chaperonage, so no tongues would be tempted to flap. Yet his guests were all content to allow Noah free rein in entertaining Lady Tabitha.
But he had truly been looking forward to today, more than any of the rest. Lady Tabitha had agreed to let him take her to Hyde Park. No one else would be coming with them, not even Miss Faulkner. He would have an opportunity to really talk to her. Noah thought, perhaps, she might be open to his proposal. He was prepared for it. Just that morning, Noah had ventured over to Bond Street and visited a jeweler. The ring he bought had a garnet gemstone on a silver band. Simple. Elegant. The silver ought to highlight the shade of her eyes.
He hadn’t decided for certain that today would be the day. After all, the last time they’d discussed the potential for her to marry—not just marry him, but to marry anyone at all—she had been disinclined to continue the conversation. But if his luck of the last few days held out...
The butler showed him in to the drawing room. After only a few minutes the double doors opened wide, but instead of Lady Tabitha, her brothers walked through, leaving the doors standing slightly ajar behind them.
“Devonport,” Shelton said jovially, “good to see you. I see you’ve been hard at work on the bet. I must say, I heartily approve.” He raised the tumbler he had carried in with him as if in toast before taking a sip.
Raynesford took a seat in a wingback chair by the window and stretched out his legs, then motioned for Noah to take the seat across from him. “How are the plans for the wedding proceeding?”
Dash it all. If he’d had a drink, he’d have spit it out all over them from the shock of the question. “I have not yet asked for Lady Tabitha’s hand,” Noah spluttered. “We are not planning the wedding yet.” He hadn’t even spoken to Newcastle, for goodness’ sake. Surely the brothers knew all of this.
“Not your wedding, you nitwit,” Shelton said on a laugh. He plopped down on the settee at Raynesford’s other side. “But bravo! I applaud you on making such an assumption. It can only bode well for your future. I think, however, that my brother wanted to know how the plans for your mother’s wedding to Glastonbury are faring.”
“Oh. Of course.” He didn’t particularly want to think about those precise plans at the moment. For that matter, he had attempted to give it as little thought as possible. Every time the subject came up, he was reminded how soon he would be alone and how dire his financial situation was soon to be. “I’ve reserved St. George’s for the occasion. That set me back a fair bit, but I already knew how much it would cost after my sisters’ weddings over the last five years.”
Raynesford crossed his booted feet in front of him and stretched out his legs. “And the wedding breakfast? Is Glastonbury handling the plans and expenses for their celebration?”
“Absolutely not,” Noah said. “I requested that honor.” He would never allow Glastonbury to know how difficult it was for Noah to afford any of it.
“Why in bloody hell would you do something like that?” Shelton’s voice reached a half-shout. “You don’t exactly have an excess of coin sitting around.”
“He did it because it’s his mother,” Raynesford said. “You would have done the same in his position. What if our Father had died and Mother wanted to remarry? Whether you could afford it or not, you would have done it.”
Shelton frowned, but he did not refute his brother’s claim.
“So,” Raynesford said, “where does that leave you?”
How could he even answer that question? Noah took a breath and tried to sort out the thoughts racing through his head. “Well, I have enough to fund my entailed estates for a year. Two at most. Or it leaves me with a little start-up capital so I could invest in some business venture or another, and hope that it can pay dividends rapidly. But at the moment, I don’t have any grand ideas about business opportunities I’d be inclined to devote my limited funds to.”
The air seemed to be sucked out of the room, as sure as it flew between the lips of Shelton and Raynesford. “I knew it was bad,” Shelton said, “but I never imagined it was quite that bad. All the more reason for you to marry Tabitha as soon as you can.”
“Absolutely,” Raynesford said. “And she seems to have at least some affection for you. It shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her.”
Shelton leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and shrewd. “Father has her dowry set up where a portion of it must go into trust for her.” He took another drink and let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. “But well over half of it—close to two-thirds—could likely be used as you see fit. It would all just depend on the specifics of the marriage contract you and Father agree to. I’m sure you could work something out to both your satisfaction.”
“So if I marry her,” Noah mused aloud, “we could live off the funds I have remaining, at least for the time being, and I could invest the rest of her dowry in some way?”
Raynesford nodded. “That’s what I would suggest.”
Shelton’s expression was grave. “Just don’t let her know. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt you.” He caught Noah’s eye and held it for a moment. “Or kill you.”
Noah hated the idea of leaving Lady Tabitha in the dark about how her funds would be used—and why. He didn’t want there to be secrets in his marriage. His wife ought to know their situation fully. At least, she ought to know once she was his wife. Perhaps he should keep it a secret until that blessed event occurred, though. Once Lady Tabitha became Lady Devonport, she could even help him to determine what sort of opportunity they should invest in. Maybe if she played a part in the decision, she wouldn’t despise him for it quite so much.
Maybe.
“If you’re interested,” Raynesford said, “I could introduce you to my breeder. He’s done a bit with racehorses in the past. You could invest in them and make a good profit, I believe.”
Shelton chortled, but didn’t elaborate. “Horses. Tabitha would loathe that, so I think it is brilliant.”
Noah raised an eyebrow in question. “Your sister doesn’t like horses?” He had never heard the like.
“Riding,” Raynesford clarified. “She has never cared for riding. Otherwise, she doesn’t mind them overmuch. Particularly the foals. She thinks they’re cute.”
Oh, no. Oh, this was not a good revelation. Not good at all.
Shelton turned to his brother. “He looks like we’ve trampled his puppy again. What is it this time?”
“I planned to take her to Hyde Park this afternoon. For a ride.”
Raynesford’s laugh was loud enough to scare the soiled nappy off a baby. “No carriage?” he managed between gasps for air.
Noah could only shake his head. He’d gone and made a muck of things, and had been completely oblivious to the fact.
Finally, Raynesford controlled himself. “You can borrow—”
“No,” Shelton interrupted. “I’d love to see her reaction. Go on, Devonport. Take Tabitha for a romp through the park.”
~ * ~
Tabitha wrinkled her nose at the reflection in the mirror. “This gown is altogether too revealing, Hester.” Heavens, her bosom was practically spilling out over the top of the lavender muslin. It was unseemly.
Hester looked up from situating Tabitha’s bonnet over her coiffure, just long enough to catch a glimpse of the same image Tabitha had been despairing. “There’s nothing wrong with this gown. The low bodice is all the crack around Town. Gracious, by society’s standards, you’re still far too covered. I don’t know of a single lady who hasn’t been married for over a decade who would wear something like this.”
“I don’t care how fashionable it is. I can’t go out like this.” Especially not with Lord Devonport. She already felt like he could
see through her clothing when she was properly covered. But this? She shuddered to think how she could survive an hour in his company with her décolletage on display in such a brazen way.
Hester huffed and continued her attack on the bonnet, pushing pins here and there, and holding up various ribbons against the fabric of the gown. “You’ll go out just as you are, my lady, and you’ll be happy about it.” She finally selected a single ribbon, a cream silk, and used it to thread around the bonnet and tie beneath Tabitha’s chin, then pulled out another length of it to tie at her waist, pulling a touch more tightly than was necessary. “I’ll not have you wearing those frumpy gowns you’ve become so accustomed to while you’re being courted. Do you know what the other lady’s maids would say about me?”
Tabitha frowned. “I’m not being courted.” She ignored Hester’s snort of derision. “And the other maids ought to think you’re to be commended for doing the job you’ve been asked to do, if you dress me in what I prefer to wear.”
“There’s no point in arguing with me,” Hester said. “Now, down the stairs with you. We can’t keep Lord Devonport waiting all day.” The maid turned to tidy the room from their efforts, then stopped suddenly. “On second thought, I’m going down with you. I don’t trust you not to try to sneak back in and change your clothes.” She quickly returned the extra hat pins and ribbons to the vanity and planted her hands on her hips.
Had Father indoctrinated the entire staff to do everything possible to ensure Tabitha’s cooperation? First Livingston, and now Hester. Who would be next? Cook? Perhaps Cook would feel the need to serve only those foods known to act as aphrodisiacs the next time a gentleman was over for tea. Or maybe Father would set the footmen on her next, sending them out to hunt down stray gentlemen in the streets and drag them inside.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Tabitha slowed and put out a hand to hold Hester back. She lifted a finger to her lips. Voices were coming from the drawing room. Multiple voices. Male voices.
Owen’s muffled timbre came through the half-closed doorway first, saying something about plans for a wedding. Then Lord Devonport said something, but Tabitha couldn’t make out any of his words. She tiptoed closer to the door, careful not to step on the board that incessantly creaked. Not much came through for the next several moments but the deep rumblings of their masculine tones and the occasional shout of laughter.
But then there was no need to strain her ears to hear what Toby shouted. “Why in bloody hell would you do something like that? You don’t exactly have an excess of coin sitting around.”
Hester’s eyes widened, clearly aghast. Tabitha gestured for her to stay back and remain silent. She couldn’t worry about the maid’s delicate ears hearing her brother curse. Not now. Instead, she needed to determine what he was cursing about.
It couldn’t be Owen. Owen had plenty of funds. Both her brothers did. Father had provided more than well for all of his children.
It had to be Lord Devonport.
More muffled sounds greeted Tabitha’s ears. Damn and blast, she wished Jo was here. Her cousin had always been the better eavesdropper. It was as though she’d been born to it. For that matter, perhaps she had been. She’d been doing it as long as Tabitha could remember.
Finally, Tabitha could make out real words again. “I knew it was bad,” Toby said, “but I never imagined it was quite that bad. All the more reason for you to marry Tabitha as soon as you can.”
What? But that could only mean...he wasn’t...Lord Devonport had lied to her. Despite all his promises, despite him swearing he would never tell her a lie, that’s precisely what he’d done. Tabitha felt the fury redden her face.
It was worse than just a simple untruth. Worse still than him being in league with Toby (yet another thing he’d lied to her about—this conversation clearly demonstrated his culpability in that regard).
Lord Devonport was a fortune hunter, just like Oglethorpe and all of his ilk. Just like every man who had ever paid Tabitha court, save the one. Just like she knew they all would be, because Father insisted on raising her dowry at every turn.
And she’d allowed herself to entertain the notion that he could truly have feelings for her. She’d allowed herself to think she might have feelings for him in return. It was enough to make her weak-kneed, to send waves of nausea roiling through her body. This was why she should have rejected Lord Devonport’s suit out of hand, like she had done with so many others. Like Jo had always told her to do. They did not want Tabitha. They could never love her. They wanted her money.
He wanted her money. Her dowry.
She couldn’t stay here any longer. She could no longer listen to them discuss her like a prize stallion at auction. The next thing she knew, they’d be talking about the health of her teeth or the strength of her flanks.
The most lowering sensation she’d ever experienced was fast overcoming her. She had to get out. Now. Before she lost the ability to breathe.
Tabitha spun to face the other direction and made for the front door. “I’ll not be seeing Lord Devonport today,” she said to Hester once she was out of their earshot.
Livingston held out a pelisse and she took it from him.
“But Lady Tabitha,” Hester whispered urgently. “What are you doing?”
How was she bloody well supposed to know that? “I’m going out,” Tabitha replied with as much dignity as she could muster. She slipped her arms into the pelisse and marched to the door.
“I’m coming with you,” Hester said.
“You are not. You’re to stay here.”
The maid wrung her hands in agitation. “And what should I tell him? What should I tell your brothers? Your father?”
“Tell them whatever you like.”
When Livingston failed to open the door for her, she set her most imperious, scathing look upon him.
“Shall I order a carriage for you, my lady?” he asked in dismay. “I can call some footmen to assist you today.”
“That won’t be necessary, Livingston. Thank you.”
Finally, he opened the door. Tabitha stomped down the stairs, slipping and missing the last step. She wound up in a heap at the foot of the landing. When Livingston and Hester started to rush to her aid, she deflected their assistance with a glare and stood on her own.
She brushed herself off, waved at the gentleman across the street who had stopped midstride to witness her collapse, and resituated a stray hair. Then she was off.
~ * ~
“Has something held Lady Tabitha up?” Noah asked Raynesford. He’d enjoyed spending time with the two brothers, despite the fact that Shelton was determined to see him made the fool. Granted, Noah had played into the younger brother’s hand all too well.
But he really wanted to get on with things. He wanted to see if he could coax her to ride with him. He’d gone to the trouble of selecting a docile mare and fitting her with a side-saddle, just to get Lady Tabitha alone for a bit. Just to have a chance to propose if the opportunity presented itself.
That wouldn’t happen if she never appeared, though.
“All the more reason I never intend to get saddled to a woman, myself,” Shelton quipped. “They’re always holding you up. How often do you sit waiting for Lady Raynesford, Owen? At least once a day, I’d wager.”
“Not at all,” Raynesford said. “I request that she be ready half an hour before I want to go. You might want to remember that one, Devonport. It could certainly come into use for you. I’ve done that with Tabitha several times lately, when I’ve taken her and Elaine somewhere.”
Noah made note of it for future use.
Raynesford stood and pulled the bell. “We’ll just send someone to see what has caused the delay.”
A maid hurried in and dipped a curtsey in Raynesford’s direction. “My lord?”
“Will you please see what is keeping Lady Tabitha? Lord Devonport has been waiting for a good while.”
She nodded and scurried out. Before she’d been gone mo
re than a few seconds, another maid returned in her place. “Lord Raynesford, I regret to say that Lady Tabitha has gone out.”
“Out?” Raynesford repeated, dumbfounded.
“Yes. Out.”
Shelton stood and towered over the girl. “Where did she go, Hester? She knew Lord Devonport would be calling upon her.”
Noah had to give Hester her due. She did not cower before Shelton, not even with him glowering down from nearly a foot above her, despite the fact that he clearly intimidated her.
“I cannot say, Mr. Shelton,” she replied, her voice tranquil as an autumn day even if her eyes told another story.
Raynesford rose and positioned himself next to his brother. “Why can’t you say? And why did you not go with her?”
“She told me to remain here, my lord. I tried to go with her. Livingston wanted to call a carriage or send a footman with her, but she refused that as well.”
Now, Noah shared their concern. She’d gone out on foot, with an already ailing ankle, completely and utterly alone. Lady Tabitha had clearly taken leave of her senses.
“And she did not tell you her destination?” Noah prodded. “Was she upset?”
“No destination, my lord,” Hester replied. “And yes, she was most assuredly upset. I can’t imagine her behaving so rashly otherwise.”
“You’ve not been her maid long enough, then,” Shelton muttered, garnering a glower from Raynesford.
“Any idea what had her upset this time?” Raynesford drawled.
The maid shifted her gaze back and forth between the three of them for a few moments before finally speaking. “I couldn’t say, my lord.”
Noah would have placed the second bet of his life that she was lying to them outright. Hester knew exactly why her mistress was upset, but didn’t want them to know.
“Thank you, Hester, that will be all,” Raynesford said. The maid slipped out without a sound and he followed behind her, pulling the door closed, before turning to Noah and Shelton. “Tabitha overheard us. It has to be that.”
Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) Page 11
