The Cinderella Debutante (11 page)

“I’ll wager the elder chit is to blame! She dislikes me and she has seen to it that her sister has doubts about my offer.”

Sir Oswald nodded. “Must be the way of it. The girl seemed keen enough before. Something must have happened.”

“I’ll not have my plans ruined!”

“Maybe she will come up to scratch in a few days,” argued Sir Oswald. “Females are contrary creatures; they keep you in suspense when they have every intention of accepting.”

“Perhaps, but I have no intention of waiting. I shall, of course, continue to act the lovelorn suitor, but I must make arrangements in case she does not come up to scratch. The old vulture will not stand idly by and neither can I. Listen, I may need your help.”

Sir Oswald listened with incredulity as Lord Sneyd outlined his plans, which, in spite of his befogged state, he considered bordered on madness. “Can’t be done,” he announced, when his companion had finished. “Passes the bounds of decency! You’d be ostracized for good.”

“The mother would be anxious to hush things up and any gossip would die down. It might be necessary to lay low in the country for a while, but there would soon be a new scandal. Then I could return to town a respectable married man. Memories become conveniently short when one is flush in the pocket.”

Sir Oswald was unconvinced and gave his opinion again more bluntly. “Still sounds a damnable set-up to me and I want no part of it!”

Lord Sneyd’s expression turned ugly. “If you refuse, it may be necessary for some unpleasant rumours to emerge about you.”

Sir Oswald scowled but said nothing.

“Good,” said Sneyd, taking his silence as agreement. He curled his lip in derision. “I knew I could rely on you, Hen.”

***

Across St. James’s at White’s, Lord Devlyn was enjoying a rubber of whist when he saw Toby enter with Gil and George. Seeing that Toby wanted to speak with him, as soon as his hand was finished, Alex excused himself from the game and went over. Gil and George had moved out of earshot to watch a game of Hazard.

“It pains me to mention it, but I’m surprised you were allowed on the premises with your cravat tied in that deplorable fashion” said Alex, studying Toby’s attempt at the Mathematical.

“Never mind that!” whispered Toby. “Gil’s just heard that the odds have lengthened to ten to one for the heiress becoming engaged to Sneyd before the month is out. It’s said she’s showing him a cold shoulder. And Ned Geringham has told George that Sneyd is drowning his sorrows across at Brooks’ with Sir Oswald, and he’s in a foul temper.”

Alex frowned. “I do not usually listen to gossip, but this I cannot ignore. Tell me how this information has emerged, if it true?”

“Sir Jocelyn Gardner was at Almack’s tonight and overheard the younger Miss Sinclair saying that she had received an offer but needed to consider her reply. After that, well – you know Sir Jocelyn, never able to keep anything quiet. All over Town in a couple of hours! Explains why Sneyd is looking queer in the attic. Thought you would be interested. Besides, you’re now three to one to offer for her yourself,” he concluded with a grin.

“Let us hope no one risks money on that improbable event,” said Alex. “How unfortunate the girl has been indiscreet.”

His frustration at Belinda’s indiscretion was outweighed by his concern for Lucy. She was involved in a situation where an unprincipled man was growing desperate. He would not be dangled at the end of a marriage proposal for long.

“Hmm. Seems I must make enquiries into Sneyd’s affairs.”

“He’s a rum cove. He and Henlow mix with some shady characters,” muttered Toby. “Lady Sinclair ought to have more sense than to encourage him.”

Alex sighed. “For Lady Sinclair to allow matters to reach this point is regrettable, but inevitable given her ambition.” A slow smile spread across his face. “On quite a different subject, thank you for organizing a trip to Richmond on Friday. An excellent idea.”

Toby stared at him in bewilderment. “Eh? What’s that?”

“Never mind,” said Alex with a laugh. “I’ll explain tomorrow.”

“One more thing,” Toby murmured, a little sheepishly. “The odds are running at evens on Algy ‘Mustard’ Pottingham and Lucy Sinclair becoming engaged before the end of the Season.”

“Is that so?” replied Alex.

Meeting in a tavern

The stench of stale sweat assailed Alex as he entered the tavern. It was scarcely more pleasant than the smell emanating from the filth in the alleyway outside.

Pausing to let his eyes to adjust to the gloom, the hum of conversation died away and several pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at him. Most of the customers seemingly decided that he and the servant accompanying him were best left alone and conversation resumed. Alex made his way alone to a table whose occupant watched his approach with narrowed eyes.

Sitting down opposite the man, Alex studied Sylvester’s drooping shoulders and sharp features.

“Although I have arranged it, I cannot claim this meeting is a pleasure. My time is normally too valuable to waste on individuals like you, but I am here on business.”

The moneylender’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Alex knew what he was thinking: another member of the
ton
up to his neck in debts. No doubt Sylvester intended to apply his normal extortionate rates.

“I apprehend from your expression you think I am in need of money. Let me disabuse you. I am not another green youngster who is ill-versed in the ways of the city and fallen on hard times,” drawled Alex. “I want something else from you and am prepared to pay for it.”

The older man let out a hoarse laugh. “I knew as soon as I saw you that you were a man after my own heart. Cut to the nub of the matter straight away, no dilly-dallying! Just the way I like to operate.” A coughing fit followed, which ended with Sylvester dabbing a filthy handkerchief to his mouth, still wheezing at his weak humour.

“How gratifying we understand each other,” said Alex drily. “What I seek is information regarding a certain debt. You will provide me with any details I require.”

His companion sucked in his lips, a hurt look on his unprepossessing countenance. “Now, there I must tell you that a debt to Sylvester is held in strict confidence until it is settled. Upon my honour, I cannot be tempted to give you information.”

“How very altruistic. In which case, you will not accept the twenty guineas I was willing to pay. Good day to you.”

Alex began to get to his feet, but a claw-like hand shot out across the table, gripping his arm.

“Pray do not be so hasty, my lord! Sit down, sit down!” urged Sylvester. “I was about to say I am sure arrangements can be made between two practical men like ourselves. An old man has to be careful. So many people are ready to take advantage.”

“You are neither destitute nor gullible, so do not waste your time trying to convince me. In fact I have made it my concern to discover a great deal about you. I have it on good authority that the Bow Street Runners are anxious to talk to you.”

Sylvester’s expression changed instantly from one of smiling benevolence to panic. “There’s no need for that sort of talk! I’ve agreed to help, haven’t I?”

“Very well, but I will not barter. I have friends in Bow Street. My offer of twenty guineas stands. Do not try my patience by attempting to haggle.”

“What is it you want to know?” he muttered.

Shortly afterwards, Alex left the tavern with the information he required, as well as a sense of how pressing the matter had become for the gentleman concerned. He had paid over the agreed sum, but left Sylvester in no doubt as to the consequences if he tried to follow him and extort more.

***

Lucy arrived back in Mount Street after purchasing new evening gloves and slippers for Lady Gainsford’s ball to be told that her stepmother was unwell but wanted to see Lucy the instant she returned.

Lucy found her sitting in a chair in her bedchamber with the curtains drawn. She greeted Lucy in a feeble voice and seemed agitated.

It did not take long for Lucy to discover Mr Pottingham had called. The unexpected reason for his visit had thrown Lady Sinclair into turmoil. The possibility of
Lucy
receiving an offer had not previously entered her head. Reeling from the shock, the future she had planned had abruptly receded, to be replaced by the vision of an existence with only the company of paid companions.

She could not forbid the marriage because Lucy was of age. Indeed in society’s view, it would be an admirable match and she would be congratulated on two daughters contracting excellent alliances. So, unable to deny the marriage, Lady Sinclair resorted to a different strategy.

Taking refuge behind her handkerchief, she dabbed her eyes and declared, “You must act as you see proper towards Mr Pottingham but my health is already declining. A lonely future would accelerate matters until I am confined to bed. The headache I am suffering from now is probably the beginning of the end.” She sniffed prosaically. “Mr Pottingham enquired if I was quite the thing, so pale I had become. He was all consideration, to be sure, although one wonders why a sober man like
him
must offer for a young woman like
you
, who finds amusement in every situation!” She dabbed lavender water on her temples, adding, “I was never more shocked in my life! Of course I gave permission for him to approach you, but I hope you will show a little compassion for the way I have treated you and give careful thought to your reply.” She lay back in her chair at the end of this speech and shut her eyes.

Lucy watched this performance with amusement. She had anticipated her stepmother’s reaction and not been disappointed. Fortunately for Lady Sinclair’s nerves, she was able to explain she had no intention of accepting Mr Pottingham. “And I must say, I agree with you for once,” concluded Lucy. “We would not suit at all – I am far too frivolous for his ordered mind.”

Lady Sinclair’s demeanour changed instantly. The frail, invalid pose was forgotten; the lavender water abandoned. She jumped to her feet, patted Lucy’s hand and said she was making the right decision. Her headache, so cruel only moments ago, had vanished.

“Well, now that is sorted, I shall go and discuss the menu for dinner,” she said in a brisk voice, ringing the bell for the maid to open the curtains. “I leave it to you to convey your decision in the most suitable manner, for I would not upset such a worthy man or cause embarrassment to his dear mama.”

Lucy hid her smiles, but knew this would not be the end of the matter. Belinda’s marriage would bring change and a difficult interview with her stepmother must follow. Lucy was even more grateful for Lady Gainsford’s offer – it would not be advisable to remain long in her stepmother’s household after Belinda had departed.

Later that day, she recounted this conversation to Lady Gainsford. Lucy’s grandmother was there also.

“My stepmother is reassured as I am to refuse,” said Lucy, “although I thought it best not to discuss yet where I am to live after Belinda’s marriage.”

Lady Gainsford was unimpressed. “Foolish woman!” she said, with a sound of disgust. “It is fortunate she has not stifled your spirit over the years, for a more addlebrained and selfish creature I have yet to meet! Don’t you agree, Amelia?”

“I do, and while the match would be an advantageous one, I am glad you have refused, Lucy. He is not the man for you. Besides, you may receive other offers before the end of the season.”

“None I can imagine accepting,” admitted Lucy.

“Now do not be nonsensical!” said her hostess bluntly, “You are lacking in self-confidence but you are a lovely young woman. We shall take pleasure in seeing you happily established before long. Thank goodness you have no thought of throwing yourself away on that newt-loving fathead Algernon Pottingham, for I would certainly have discouraged you if you had!”

Lucy smiled, but then her tone grew serious. “There is another marriage proposal which concerns me far more.” She told them of Lord Sneyd’s offer, and the course her stepmother and sister were pursuing.

“
Devlyn
offer for
Belinda
?” cried Lady Gainsford, incredulous. “If they are holding out for that, they are even more witless than I gave them credit for. He will do no such thing!”

“You may say so, but I believe he has formed a strong attachment to Belinda. It is only a matter for time before he declares himself,” argued Lucy. “My stepmother believes Lord Sneyd will be content to wait for Belinda while she takes every opportunity to encourage Lord Devlyn. How can it be sensible or advisable to antagonize a man like Sneyd in that way? He tried to conceal it, but his anger was obvious yesterday. Why some of his resentment should be directed at me, though, I cannot imagine—”

“Why should you think Lord Devlyn cares for Belinda, Lucy?” interjected Lady Derricott with a frown.

“Oh, because of her beauty, his manner towards her, his kindness, a-and something else…something I could not help overhearing,” stammered Lucy, blushing fiercely.

There was silence before Lady Gainsford, who had been studying Lucy’s heightened colour with a thoughtful look, said at last, “Well, perhaps you have a better understanding of how matters stand between Devlyn and your sister, although knowing him, I cannot conceive he would be such an idiot. I would wash my hands of the ninny if it were so! Lord Sneyd will grow impatient; Belinda should have refused him at once and your stepmother ought to have sent him packing. His anger towards you might be because he feels you are to blame for Belinda’s apparent indecision.”

“But he cannot act outside the law,” murmured Lady Derricott. “Belinda is only seventeen; her mother must give consent.”

“I hope you are right, Amelia. We must trust, Lucy, that your sister will have the good sense to refuse him and thereafter he will retire to the country to lick his wounds. But I am not hopeful. Sneyd will not want to see Belinda’s fortune pass to anyone else.”