Corie waited until the maids back was turned to look at the other customers; then she opened the velvet pouch she carried and spilled the contents onto a velvet cloth the clerk provided. I need to know how much these are worth. For safety purposes, of course. I know I should not be carrying them casually, but Id like to know their value.
Of course. Ladies were always selling their jewelry, and always using some excuse or other; the toffs never wanted to admit they were living above their means. He maintained his polite air while he fixed a jewelers loupe to his eye, then held the necklace up close. Then the earbobs, and the bracelet.
I think you can carry these anywhere you wish, miss. They are worth less than ten pounds.
Ten pounds! she cried, then lowered her voice. Ten pounds?
They are excellent fakes. A pleasing design, an attractive set, but they are glass for all that.
Glass?
Oh, yes. He took a strand of diamonds from the case behind him, a necklace that was similar in size of the stones. Do you see the difference, the depth, the clarity, the sparkle? And see? He used a sheet of glass set aside for just that purpose to etch a line with one of the real diamonds. He tried it with one of hers, from the bracelet. The stonethe piece of glass crystalcracked.
So did something inside Corie.
Miss? Are you ill? Shall I fetch a glass of water? Your maid? Do you have a carriage waiting?
No. No, I shall be fine. The, ah, surprise, you know. II suppose my father felt the real ones were too valuable to chance in London. All the tales of crimes, you know.
Tis better to be cautious with family heirlooms, I say. No telling when a robber will break into your own house these days.
Frightening, isnt it? Worse to know ones own father was the thief. How could she admit it to anyone? It was embarrassing enough the Stamfields knew he was courting Alberta Rivendale like some besotted swain. The whole neighborhood was laughing behind his back. It was mortifying the tenants feared him for his temper, the tradesmen disliked him for his cheese-paring ways, and the local society no longer invited him to their parties because of his nastiness when drunk. But this? This was beyond humiliating. Now she was ashamed.
Her own father cared so little for Corie that he stole from her. She wondered when hed made the copy, if hed sold the originals or kept them somewhere.
She wondered what she should do now she had no money to fall back on.
Miss, did you find a gift for Lady Cora? Theres a pretty brooch she might like for that new turban.
No, there are too many choices. I cannot decide. Well come back another day.
She thanked the clerk, who had discreetly restored her imitations to their pouch. She tucked the pouch back into her reticule, in the guise of searching for a handkerchief. I do believe I am feeling the chill that had Miss Stamfield sneezing last night. We ought to return home.
She looked so pale, no one questioned her decision to stay home that afternoon and rest.
No one except Daniel, that was. He worried. His mother and sister went off to pay calls and spend more of his money on fripperies, but he didnt like Cories pallor. First that flush this morning; now shed gone ashen-faced. He told himself hed be stuck with her forever if she turned sickly. That was why he was concerned.
Perhaps a physician should be called. He forgot he distrusted the entire profession, and almost sent a footman off to find one. Then he decided someone should see if she needed more than an afternoons rest, and where the devil had his mother gone that was more important than the health of her guest?
He knocked softly on her door in case she was sleeping.
The door opened immediately. She was still wearing the green gown of the morning, but her hair was down, loose around her shoulders, and lower. He hadnt realized how long it was, that sun-touched brown, how smooth, how soft it looked. How much he wanted to run his fingers through it.
What do you want?
Uh, to see if you were well.
No, I am not well. I am poor.
Do you mean poorly? Should I send for a physician?
No, I mean poor as in penniless, poor as in no means of supporting myself if I cannot find a husband or a paying position. Poor as in my diamonds are made of paste. Did you know that?
He did not want to have this discussion in the hallway, where passing servants could overhear. May I come in?
I am not that poor I would accept carte blanche from you.
Lud, I wasnt offering . . . That is, right. It would be wrong for me to enter your bedchamber. I, ah . . .
Did you know?
He wavered. Shed hate him with the truth. Hed have hives at a lie. How could I know? Im no jeweler.
But you suspected, didnt you?
That he had to admit.
And you never told me.
I saw no reason to. They are pretty baubles, and only an expert could tell, especially at night, at the theater. You know.
She clenched her fists. Yes, I know now. I asked a real jeweler, someone who wouldnt lie to me.
Daniel stood his ground in the doorway. I never lied. I never said one way or another. It did not matter.
It did to me.
She slammed the door in his face.
Chapter Eighteen
A
maid screamed and dropped her bundle of sheets. A footman ran, tripped over the sheets, and bumped into Dobbson, who came to see what gust of windor, woe betide, servantdared shut one of the doors forcefully enough to awaken the resting Miss Abbott, or the dead.
She did not want a doctor, Daniel told them. He stepped over the sheets, helped the footman to his feet, straightened Dobbsons powdered wig, and left.
Miss Abbott did not leave her room until dinnertime, where she appeared her usual self, in a high-waisted, rose-colored silk gown. She wore pearls at her throat and silk roses in her upswept hair. She spoke of Lady Coras afternoon visits. She spoke of the evening ahead. She did not speak to Daniel.
As usual, Daniel addressed his meal instead of the feminine chatter about fripperies. Lady Cora and Susanna shared glances and shrugs, but did not ask any questions. Theyd heard all they needed to know from the servants.
The ball was hot, crowded, and noisy. In other words, it was a success. Susannas hand was solicited for every dance, with Clarence offering to sit out the waltzes with her. Daniel noted the boy did not have to be coerced by their hostess to take other partners, including the erudite Miss Thomlinson, who looked almost pretty waltzing twice with Lord Chadwick. Luckily Chadwick was a superb dancer, for Miss Thomlinson could not see a thing without her thick spectacles, but she did look worlds better, and happier. No one at Whites would bet against that match.
Daniel also noticed that Corie, Miss Abbott, danced every set, strolled the perimeter between dances, took supper with a different group of acquaintances, and seldom returned to Lady Coras side. She laughingly declared herself too old to need such careful chaperonage, and too much in the way of Lady Coras own beaux. One time when she did come to see how his mother fared, Daniel tried to engage her in conversation. She quickly asked if he might fetch her a lemonade, since shed become thirsty from all the dancing. She was gone when he got back with the drink.
Daniel handed the cup to his mother, who handed it to Lord Morgan, who hid it behind a potted palm tree. Daniel wished he could hide there, too, to avoid their looks of concern at the blatant insult. They both, undoubtedly, believed he deserved it. Maybe he did. Who could tell what a woman was thinking?
Daniel looked for Corie on the dance floor, something he did far too often for his own comfort. He saw her smiling at her current partner, twirling in the dance fast enough to show her ankles. Damn.
She flirted more, laughed more, stood a little closer to her partners. And, Zeus, was her rose bodice more revealing, too? Or was it just that the pearls caught his eye, and his glance at the gleaming white orbsthat is, the pearlslingered.
She was obviously more determined than ever to snag herself a husband. If that was a crime, every other young female attending these tedious affairs was just as guilty, but Corie seemed more blatant about it than the others tonight. Or maybe he was just more observant, or was more aware of her motives.
Didnt she understand gentlemen grew nervous when a female was too eager? They were supposed to be the hunters, not the prey. Like a canny old fox, a bachelor could see his pursuers coming for miles away. Hed either outrun the pack or go to ground. The London gents had a lot of practice avoiding capture.
And yet, Daniel had to admit, Cories strategy seemed to be working well enough. More and more men begged him for an introduction, or a private appointment to discuss their prospects. No one had prospects, he repeated time and again, until after Almacks, if then. A great deal of talcum powder in his unmentionables permitted him to say the ladies, including the worlds most determined huntress, were merely enjoying themselves for now.
He was not.
How could he stand around watching his friends drool over her, call her the Toast of the Town, the Belle of the Beau Monde? And how could he watch her assess each potential victim with the scrutiny of a housewife buying a trout for dinner? Revolting, that was what it was.
She showed no affection for any of them, never danced twice with the same man. Yet she was going to choose her lifes mate, and soon. How? Pick the richest? The one with the highest title, the finest estate, the best looks? Maybe shed never seen an example of a good, lasting marriage, like his own parents had been, filled with affection and devotion and friendship. Or seen that syrupy tenderness between new parents, like Rex and Amanda. Or felt that hunger that burned between the newlyweds Harry and Simone. No, she was a coldhearted shrew, seeking a cold alliance.
Her admirers thought she was warm enough, obviously, because they took her flirting as a challenge. Her lack of favorites seemed to increase her popularity, instead of sending a warning to the crowd. Sheep, that was what they were, following the herd after the newest, greenest grass. Miss Abbott was no longer hard to please; she was simply too much in demand, which made her all that much more appealing, more of a game to the beaux.
Daniel went to the gaming room.
And heard her name mentioned on every side. Bother it, couldnt a man escape that drivel in a smoke-filled room of older gentlemen? At least there was no betting book in the hosts study, like there was in every club, with a certain wealthy commoners daughter and her marriage prospects mentioned on every other line. The last time hed lookedvery well, this afternoon, againthe wagers were evenly spread among ten men, all respectable, all acceptable. His name was not in the running.
No one would dare, Daniel told himself, getting satisfaction where he could. No one would speak discourteously of her, either. Hed seen to that. One look at his face and his hands, combined with snippets of Babcocks downfall and Daniels reputation, silenced any disrespectful prattle before it began, no matter what the rakes were thinking.
They all knew by now that, in loco parentis, he would not entertain any honorable proposals until after Almacks. They knew, too, hed pummel any man who dared issue the other kind of offer. Still, nothing could keep them, even the older, married men in the cardroom, from commenting that she was a beauty, and just as lovely inside as out, according to their wives and daughters. Miss Corisande Abbott was a true gentlewoman, a charming addition to London society.
Ha! They didnt almost get their noses slammed in a door. They didnt get stepped on when they were injured. They didnt get turned down for a ride, a drive, a blasted museum visit, or a dance. They didnt get left bringing a blasted cup of lemonade to an empty space. They didnt get shouted at for trying to protect her, by God.
He wanted to shout at them, loudly enough to be heard by her horde of smooth-talking, smooth-dancing, smooth-skinned, rash-free suitors in the ballroom, that she was
not
a desirable bride. Miss Abbott was not a gentle lady, not by half. She was not the complacent, amiable female she pretended, not at all. She was grasping and greedy and coldhearted, out to make the most advantageous match, with love or affection being no advantage at all.
Shed make a mans life a misery once he realized shed wed him only to escape her fathers rule and the doxy Abbott might marry. She wanted to come into her own funds, have her own house, and rule her own roost, and shed marry Attila the Hun to get her way.
If the poor fool loved her, if he expected her to return his fondness, nay, if he expected to be the king in his own castle, hed be all the more wretched.
Almost as wretched as Daniel was now.
After several more days of this, of seeing his fellow bachelors make gullible fools of themselvesand watching his mothers and sisters collections of suitors grow, tooDaniel put his foot down.
