“You do not appear too concerned about that.”
“That is because I am exaggerating. It will be some years, however. Also, what happened as I left those chambers is more on my mind, and cause for my mood.” He smiled slyly. “My cousin’s solicitor approached me and asked to have a word with me.”
“Whatever for?”
“To discuss my allowance.”
She straightened and looked at him, perplexed. “He wants to give you money?”
“Hell of a thing, isn’t it? I don’t think he wants to. I think he believes it would look bad if he did not now. Everyone knows I am his uncle’s son one way or another. Perhaps he fears that if he does not make this gesture, the bigger question will be badly influenced against him.” He shrugged, and closed his eyes.
“Or, perhaps he sees the estate slipping out of his hands eventually, and wants to encourage you to be as generous as he, when it is yours.”
“How cynical of you, Celia.” He kissed her nose. “I am sure it is just his good heart at work.”
She nestled against him again. “How much was this allowance he offered?”
His eyes remained closed and turned to the sun. “A respectable amount.”
“How respectable?”
“A lot.”
She smacked on his shoulder. “How much?”
“Two thousand.”
“A year?”
“Mmm.”
“That is a handsome income, Jonathan.”
“I thought so. Had the solicitor approached me before the meeting, I might have taken it. Having just left hours of droning tedium, I decided I deserved more and countered with seven thousand. We settled in the middle.”
More than four thousand pounds a year. “What will we do with it?”
“We could buy you a new wardrobe, I suppose. And some jewels.”
“A carriage would be nice, with a matched pair.”
“See, if we put our minds to it, we will manage to run through it in no time.” He hooked his arm around her neck and drew her close so he could kiss her. “You can have it all, to do as you wish, Celia. I have what I want right here.” He touched her belly, then her breast, in a caress.
A discreet cough at the garden door made them both turn. Bella stood there, flushing hotly from what she had witnessed. “My apologies. But there is a man here, to see you, Celia. He is in the sitting room. I’ve his card here.”
Jonathan stood to take the card. He read it, and raised his eyebrows. He handed it to Celia.
Mr. Mappleton had called.
Mr. Mappleton was all smiles when they greeted him. He bowed a little deeper than he ever had in the past to Celia, and made some flattering, ingratiating comments to Jonathan. Celia assumed that Mr. Mappleton had been reading the papers about her husband’s considerable expectations.
When they all sat, the solicitor smiled some more. “I have come for several reasons. I hope you do not mind. I thought to spare you the visit to my chambers.”
“That is considerate of you.” She had always liked Mr. Mappleton. He had been a faithful helper to her mother.
“Yes, well, first, I want to inform you that the estate is settled. All is in order. There have been no further claims on it, so this house is yours free and clear.”
“That is good to know.” She resisted glancing at Jonathan, who had ensured there would be no further claim.
“I also come as an emissary,” Mr. Mappleton said, more seriously. “It is my sincere hope that you will hear me out. My words are verbatim, from the gentleman who asked I speak them.”
“Which gentleman?” Jonathan asked.
“I am not at liberty to say, sir. I was assured that Miss Pennifold—Mrs. Albrighton—would know the source and meaning.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “I think it would not be a betrayal of my charge if I said this was a most esteemed gentleman.”
“Let us hear it, then,” Jonathan said.
“I am asked to tell you, Mrs. Albrighton, that if you call again, you will be received. That is the entire message.”
Jonathan caught her eye. He did not appear joyed by the overture. Actually, he appeared much as she felt. It would be some time before she called on Enderby again, no matter what second thoughts he recently had. She would someday, though. He was her father, wasn’t he?
“Thank you, Mr. Mappleton. I understand, and appreciate your service in this,” she said.
“Now that is done. There is only one more thing.” He reached in his coat and brought forth a letter. “This was left in my possession by your mother. The instructions were to give it to you, if you ever married for love.” He looked at her, then Jonathan, and blushed. “As if I could know for sure! I said as much to her. She assured me that her daughter would answer the question honestly if I put it to her.”
He suddenly appeared dismayed. “Perhaps I need to ask this of the lady privately, Mr. Albrighton. Yes, that would be best, I suppose. How careless of me. I am not accustomed to such a peculiar mission and—”
“Do not distress yourself, sir,” Celia said. “My husband’s presence does not constrain my honesty on this of all questions. I most certainly married for love, I assure you.”
Mr. Mappleton looked at her kindly. “Yes, I believe you did, dear lady.” He ceremoniously offered her the letter.
He took his leave then. Celia sat with the letter on her lap. The paper appeared fresh enough. It must have been written not all that long ago.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” Jonathan asked.
“I do not know if I want to. It contains a scold for this marriage, I am sure, and for being reckless with my future.”
Jonathan scowled. “If so, it is cruel and selfish that she reaches out from the grave to distress you. I would have thought better of her.”
She fingered the paper with trepidation, then quickly opened it.
She read its contents once, and blinked hard, confused by the words. She read it a second time. Her heart filled as she did. Emotions overwhelmed her. She began weeping uncontrollably.
Jonathan gathered her into an embrace. He took the letter and crushed it in his fist. “We will burn it, and if any more come, you are not to read them. I will not see you so distraught merely because she could not accept that her plans for you were not your plans for yourself.”
She shook her head, and struggled for composure. “It is not what you think, my love. Not selfish or cruel. It is a lovely letter.” She took it from his clenched hand, and unfolded it. She smoothed the sheet on her lap. “You must read it with me. You must.”
Head to head, and bound by his embracing arm, they read the letter together.
My dear, dear, Celia,
If you are reading this, it means that you have married. Furthermore you have discarded everything I ever taught you by choosing your husband for the least practical reason. You have risked your future, your security, your heart, and even your person, in the name of an emotion that for most women proves transient and fickle.
I want you to know that I understand. I too loved once. Although it led to heartbreak, it was a glorious passion while it could last. If you have embraced the opportunity to know something similar forever, I can hardly object. Indeed, it is my sincere hope as I write this letter that you will someday read it, because that will mean that you not only found a man worthy of your love, but one wise enough to recognize the true beauty that is within you, and who is also willing to risk as much as you do, in order to have you in his life.
I pray that you will remember me, Celia, and when your children are of an age to understand, perhaps you will tell them about me. You would have made the most magnificent courtesan London has ever seen, daughter, but I weep with joy at the thought that you may find happiness on this other path.
You have my love, and my blessing.
Alessandra
You won’t want to miss the breathtaking finale of Madeline Hunter’s magnificent quartet . . .
Dangerous in Diamonds
> On sale in May 2011 from Jove Books
There is only one man who can shake
Daphne’s composure.
And there is only one woman who can resist
Castleford’s outrageous brand of seduction.
Sinful in Satin Page 30
