The Lord’s Desperate Pledge

by Archer, Kate

  Lily did not reply, as she was equally certain Lord Ashworth had been in a bit of a sulk. But who cared for that now? He had taken supper.

  “Do not look so downcast, Lord Burke,” Miss Darlington said. “You are engaged to take me into supper, in case you have forgotten. I shall be put out if you regret your choice.”

  “I had not forgotten and would never regret,” Lord Burke said, filling in the first on Lily’s card. “I am delighted, though I fear Lord Cabot will not be.”

  Lily looked enquiringly at Penny. Miss Darlington only laughed and said, “Poor Lord Cabot. He will be forced to make civil conversation to some unlucky lady. He only prefers me as I allow him to wax on about his horses.”

  Lord Grayson, all tightly fitting coat and mile high neckcloth, joined their party. “Miss Farnsworth, charmed to see you again. Miss Darlington, ever your servant. Burke, how do you do?”

  Penny looked at Lord Grayson with a small smile and a cool eye. Lord Burke said, “Good Lord, Grayson, if you are anymore starched and polished you will be as frozen as a statue.”

  Lord Grayson had the good grace to laugh, not appearing at all affected by his friend’s comment. He asked for Lily’s card and then stared down at it balefully. “Ashworth for supper and Burke for the first,” he said smoothly. “I see I am late to the party.” He filled in his name for the second.

  “Cheer up, Lord Grayson,” Penny said. “It is the usual Bergram crush, there will be no end of ladies who would be willing to thrill over your smooth compliments. Now, come Lily, let us go in.”

  The rest of Lily’s card had been filled in with alacrity. She did not depend on her looks to have found herself popular. She was well aware that there was still a deal of interest in her as a lady with an unusual skill for piquet. More than one of the gentlemen who led her recounted what he’d heard of Lady Blakeley’s dinner and Lady Montague’s card party and then wished to have her confirm, or preferably elaborate on, the two engagements.

  She did not give them much quarter, but rather turned the conversation to more usual subjects. In truth, she could not think much beyond the usual pleasantries. As each dance unfolded, she grew closer to the dance before supper.

  Lord Burke had not been one to press her on her card games with Lord Ashworth. Rather, he had been amusing and kind and Lily thought that was what she could have expected. Both Cassandra and Penny had given him a ringing endorsement. Both ladies could be trusted to form well-considered opinions. Considering her ill-advised condemnation of Lord Ashworth, Lily thought she might learn something from the habit.

  Lord Grayson had been charming and exceedingly complimentary. Though, as she had done when she met him last, she could not take him entirely seriously. Her hair, if she were honest about it, was dark and sufficiently curled. It was not the hair of a goddess that Lord Grayson claimed it. Even if she had not thought for herself that his compliments were overblown, she had taken note of Penny’s comment to him. She had also taken note that her friend had led her away before Lord Grayson had the opportunity to enter his name on Penny’s card. Lily was certain that it was less her effect upon Lord Grayson than his own habit that caused him to run on in such a ridiculous fashion.

  Now, Lord Ashworth led her to the floor. She allowed herself to give in to his confident hand, though she found her tongue tied in knots. They could not speak of what had occurred in Lady Carradine’s house, there were too many ears about. And yet, what could they say that did not talk of it?

  They found themselves talking around it.

  “I suppose you will look for a new house for your bets?” Lord Ashworth asked.

  “That must be up to my aunt,” Lily said.

  “There are not so many that would be suitable for a lady,” Lord Ashworth said. “I can only think of Almack’s and even then, the patronesses would not approve of one so young closeting themselves in the card room. But then, I imagine it is no great matter to give up the amusement. Considering all that has transpired.”

  Lily chose not to point out that no Almack’s invitation had been forthcoming. Her family had not the connections for such a thing. Rather, she said, “I suppose it can be no great matter for you to find the club has closed. I understand there are many such clubs open to gentlemen where you might amuse yourself.”

  Lord Ashworth’s face had grown very serious. “It has never been only an amusement for me. Few are aware, but I count on you to say nothing of it—my family’s estates came to the brink of ruin not so long ago and gambling has brought them back to a firmer footing. I have always considered cards a serious business.”

  Lily was shocked. She had not imagined the lord could have any sort of problems in that direction. Of course, there were those highly placed who seemed always on the brink of ruin, though they would never admit it. Funnily enough, those that teetered on the edge of disaster generally did so as a result of gambling. She had never heard of an instance in which gambling was the cure to ruin.

  She was further surprised he would own his troubles. She certainly had never thought to admit her own difficulties. Hiding how she’d afforded a season, and hiding her ever present worry over money, had been one of the chief aims of her life.

  But the lord had just admitted his own circumstances. Perhaps it was the moment in any game when it was time to reveal one’s cards.

  “I am not unaware of those sorts of difficulties,” she said slowly. “My grandfather came within an inch of ruining us forever. My father has spent a lifetime dragging the estate back from the brink.”

  She noted Lord Ashworth steal a glance at her dress. He said, “I would not have guessed…”

  Lily took a deep breath. “This dress, many other dresses, and various accoutrements, were gifted to me by some very kind ladies, one of whom is here tonight. Aside from clothes, you can guess where the funds came to afford a season.”

  Lord Ashworth did not initially appear to comprehend. Then he said quietly, “Gambling.”

  “Just so.”

  Lily did not know what the lord would think of her now, but she could not deny that there was a certain relief in being honest. She had just shown who she was and there was a freedom in it.

  “I believe I understand,” he said, just as the dance ended.

  At dinner, they spoke more about their circumstances. Lord Ashworth was primarily concerned with two estates under his aegis—one in Devon and another in Somerset.

  He did not describe the estates, and Lily had no imaginings of the house in Devon, but the estate in Somerset was well known. It went back to medieval times and even bore the markings of a long-filled in moat. She had, in fact, seen sketches of it in a book on the glorious houses of England that had been in her father’s library. Dembly Castle was built of grey stone, a behemoth on a hill dominating its countryside as it had for hundreds of years. She suspected it of housing as many as twenty footmen and the stables likely cost more to maintain than her father’s entire holding.

  It gave her pause to consider what must be required to bring an estate of that magnitude back to a firmer footing.

  Lily, now that she had laid down her cards, decided there was nothing left to hide. She spoke of her childhood—the feeling she’d always had of walking on crackling thin ice and waiting for it to give way, of her father’s always harried expression, of her mother’s care of the kitchen garden lest the rabbits steal the family dinner, or her ever-present worry for her sisters. She spoke of gathering together, pound by pound, the amount for a season. She even revealed that she claimed a sore leg to account for heading to the card room rather than the ballroom. She spoke of the kindness of Cassandra, Lady Lockwood, and Penny Darlington.

  “That first evening we spoke,” Lily said, “you advised that my father ought to hire a more skilled steward.”

  “And you rightly hinted that it was not my business to direct another on such matters.”

  “I was not particularly offended, I only sought to put you off. My father does not have a steward. He is hi
s own steward.”

  Lord Ashworth nodded gravely. “I had been only speaking what had been much on my mind. I had dismissed my own father’s stewards. They were in large part responsible for the estates coming to such danger.”

  And so they went on, speaking in low tones. Anybody viewing them from afar might have assumed they commiserated over the news of a desperately sick friend, so serious were their expressions. If they had spoken of a desperately sick friend, they might have been forgiven for how little attention they gave to anybody else.

  The supper passed by surprisingly fast and Lily was sorry to go home. She was gratified, though, that Lord Ashworth made arrangements to follow them to Cork Street. His carriage stopped close behind their own and he descended to the road, scanning it up and down. He’d stayed in that stance until she and her aunt were safely inside the house.

  *

  Hayes sat in the library with a lone candle and a large glass of brandy. What revelations had been made to him this night!

  He’d never have guessed at Miss Farnsworth’s straightened circumstances. He had not supposed her to be any great heiress, but she had presented herself as any other well-financed lady just in from the countryside. Now, he knew the truth of those fine clothes. He knew the truth of where whatever money she did have had come from. My God, how had she not trembled when Lady Montague had named the wager at fifty pounds at that blasted card party?

  He saw how it had been with her father’s estate. Some who did not think deeply about such things would presume that it would be far easier to right a smaller estate with less expense to manage, than it would be to right a larger estate the size of his own. That was not the case, however. His expenses might be higher, but his resources would have far outpaced Mr. Farnsworth’s own. His land produced an enormous surplus while a smaller estate could only produce a little surplus. If debts were piled upon the smaller estate it was disastrous. Further, creditors did not dun a lord very often, though they may have felt free to be on Mr. Farnsworth’s heels. He suspected Miss Farnsworth’s father had made a Herculean effort to keep the thing going.

  Hayes had, at times, pitied himself, that his father had brought them to such a pass. What nonsense he thought that now. He had not spent his childhood walking on thin ice and wondering when it might give way. He’d spent his childhood surrounded by everything good. As a boy, he had only to mention a thing and it arrived. He’d been petted and cossetted by an indulgent governess. Even his tutors were likely to give way to his every inclination. Dembly Castle had been rock-solid beneath his feet. He was beginning to think that, while it had been pleasant, it might not have done him much good. Until only recently, the world had felt at his convenience. He might have done better to have experienced some early setbacks.

  Miss Farnsworth had no doubt faced setback after setback. It was little wonder the lady maintained such steady nerves at a card table. No wonder she’d done battle with Lady Jersey’s butler—the stern and formidable Riddick. No wonder she’d not fainted dead away when Mr. Shine locked them up. She’d been holding her nerves steady all her life.

  She was not like any other lady he’d known. She appeared delicate, fragile even, but there was iron under that porcelain skin.

  Considering her porcelain skin led to remembering the smallest curl that had escaped and lay charmingly against her neck all evening. He’d been tempted to touch it, to wrap it around his finger. And then perhaps allow all of her curls to escape.

  Contemplating letting down her hair led to thoughts of her stockinged legs as she climbed out Lady Carradine’s window.

  He downed his brandy and stood up, lest his thoughts take him anywhere else.

  *

  Lily sat in the drawing room, at a window that let in the morning sunshine, making a great effort to attend to her sewing. She did not particularly care to embroider on a usual day and this day did not feel usual at all. She’d taken a long time to fall asleep the night before, her head full of her conversation with Lord Ashworth over supper.

  They had been so direct with one another! There had been no veiling or prevaricating, no social mask hidden behind. She had said all her thoughts, rather than examine them and say only those that might be found acceptable.

  It had felt as if she had spoken to a man. Not a tricked-out gentleman at a ball, working to be amusing and showering her with vague and practiced compliments, but a real man.

  How much they had in common. How much they had revealed.

  Then, he’d followed her home and waited until she was safe in the house. He’d said he’d do the same to Lady Blakeley’s half mask this evening.

  The night before, as their carriage rumbled through the dark streets, her aunt had once more revisited the idea that Lily’s initial dislike for Lord Ashworth might not be quite right. Lily had felt compelled to admit that it was true, her initial impression had been exceedingly revised. Mrs. Hemming had seemed pleased by it and noted the lord’s good looks. Fortunately, she did not stay on the subject, as it somehow led her to considering how looks were passed down in families and she did not think the lord’s father had ever been that handsome and who really knew how the whole thing worked.

  Contemplating the coming evening felt fraught with excitement and nerves—Lady Blakeley’s ball. Lord Ashworth claimed he did not care for such a thing, but he liked Lady Blakeley and would not let her down. His mask the year before had been a gold coin, a comment upon his gambling. He did not know what she would choose this year, but he hoped it was equally good-natured.

  That had given Lily some pause. What would Lady Blakeley choose for her? She was very much afraid it would be something to do with cards. That would be unfortunate—she’d begun to get the feeling that her matches with Lord Ashworth were losing ground as the topic of the day. She was still asked about it, but it had ceased to be the sole topic of conversation. After all, there was Miss Darlington’s new phaeton to discuss and Lily had heard just the night before that a young lord had flown to France to escape his debts. There would be only so much left to say about a few games of piquet and she hoped her mask would not once again set the subject alight.

  She would see him again. Lily felt that the evening must carry some weight. If he were to take the dance before supper once more, it would point to a real inclination.

  Yes, they’d had an interesting and intense conversation last evening, but did that say anything? Did she wish that anything be meant by it?

  It seemed extraordinary, but she very much thought that she did.

  Mrs. Hemming bustled in, Ranier coming behind carrying two large boxes.

  “They are here,” her aunt said. “The masks.”

  Lily laid down her sewing, her hands showing the faintest tremble. She would find out now. How was she to walk into Lady Blakeley’s ballroom? Who was she to be, for all the world to consider?

  Ranier had placed the boxes on the table. He at once looked as if he would depart, and that he had no wish to depart.

  “Stay, Ranier,” Mrs. Hemming said. “I am sure you will want to know how we are to be cast this evening.”

  Ranier nodded gravely, as if the reputation of the house hung in the balance. Mrs. Hemming opened the first box. “This is addressed to me and what is it?” she said, pulling away the tissue paper.

  Mrs. Hemming unwrapped the mask. It was a gentle face of creamy white and delicate features, with the smallest smile. It looked very like a statue one might find in a book about Rome.

  “Oh! I see,” Mrs. Hemming said, reading the note that accompanied her mask. “She says it is the Roman goddess Veritas, for my delightful habit of telling truths others leave unspoken. Well, I suppose I am inclined to the habit.”

  Lily was gratified that Lady Blakeley had been kind to her aunt. She prayed for the same consideration.

  “Let us see what she has sent for you now,” Mrs. Hemming said, opening the second box. She lifted out a remarkable mask. It was iridescent and comprised of thin ovals of mother of pearl, laid out
in a pattern like fish scales. The note read: A young lady bold enough to challenge a consequential lord is as rare as a mermaid.”

  Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, Lady Blakeley managed to reference her card games with Lord Ashworth without being direct about it. The mask was lovely.

  “Aunt,” Lily said, “might we do some shopping this afternoon? I might find a shawl that complements the mask. Or we might even stop into Woods. You know they often have such a selection of slippers on hand and one might be lucky enough to find a pair that fits without waiting for a pair to be made. A certain shade of blue would do nicely.”

  “I do not see why not,” her aunt said. “I know you do not like to be kept indoors overmuch, and perhaps shopping will be the thing. You could always go walking with Pips, but then one wonders how many other butlers are chasing young urchins off their steps just now. Perhaps one altercation in that direction is quite enough.”

  And so, on account of young Sam and Lady Jersey’s butler, they made plans for a shopping excursion.

  Two hours later, packages had been loaded into the carriage and Lily and her aunt were just coming from Woods. She had been unsuccessful in her idea that she might find a perfect sample of the slipper she had in mind, but had ordered a pair made nonetheless. The slippers would not arrive in time for Lady Blakeley’s ball, but they would be charming for Lady Hathaway’s ball. In the meantime, Lily had purchased a few novels at Lackington Allen that she would send down to Surrey for her sisters, as well as a lovely sea-green shawl for her mother.

  Quite satisfied that they’d ventured into every shop they cared to, and not wishing to tire her aunt, Lily said, “We ought to go home now, so you can rest and have some tea.”