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‘Do you want me to speak to your father?’
Elise sighed, made a small gesture of uncertainty. ‘Old wounds are best left alone...but if repayment of your uncle’s debts resulted in a dowry for my sister, then good would come out of it.’ She spoke her thoughts aloud. ‘It is daft to speak of weddings after such a short acquaintanceship, but Beatrice would accept a proposal from your friend if one were forthcoming, she has told me so.’ Elise gazed earnestly at him. ‘But then if the sum owed is very little there can be no wedding—’ She broke off immediately and stood up as Verity skipped over the grass towards her. Elise sent a fleeting glance over a shoulder and as their eyes locked felt satisfied Alex had understood her caution. No more mention would be made of the matter today.
* * *
James Whittiker brought his elderly mare to a halt in Hyde Park, narrowing spiteful eyes on the happy party congregated under the sycamore tree. He sourly noticed that Fiona Chapman was looking gay despite the fact he hadn’t paid a call on her for some time. He saw, too, that Jago Clemence seemed interested in the younger Chapman girl. But it was Alex Blackthorne who drew James’s full attention. He still harboured resentment over the sale of his estate to the man while conveniently overlooking the fact that if he’d exercised some self-control he would have been able to keep a hold on it. In James’s opinion Blackthorne had taken unfair advantage of his execrable pecuniary position. He was brooding so deeply on what he regarded as a great injustice that he failed to hear a familiar giggle the first couple of times that it was let rip.
James’s eyes suddenly veered sideways and landed on Lily Watson’s tumble of red tresses. She was promenading with a dark-haired friend, the two of them boldly eyeing up passing gentlemen. James suddenly forgot all about Alex Blackthorne’s triumph over him and concentrated on a very recent treachery. He knew where his missing golden guinea had disappeared to: it had been slipped down the bodice of that thieving little whore the last time he’d visited her. And he’d have it back. He’d lost again at cards last night and was quickly running through the proceeds of selling Grantham Place. No doubt Lily had thought him too stupid or too drunk to miss one coin from the many he’d carried in his purse. But James knew to the last penny how much he was worth, even on those mornings when he counted out his money with a very sore head.
Since discovering the theft he had several times secreted himself outside her lodgings, hoping to catch her alone. But she’d always emerged from the hovel where she lived with Johnny and he knew better than to get on the wrong side of such a felon. James feared getting skewered if he accused her pimp of theft. Besides, he had a feeling that minx Lily would have kept to herself that she’d been light-fingered. Johnny might know nothing about it and believe him lying.
At present, Johnny was nowhere in sight and James saw an opportunity to recover his money. After that he’d make sure he went elsewhere for his pleasure.
Kicking his mount into action, James trotted over the grass towards the sauntering women, but reined back when he saw they’d had some success in finding a client. With a satisfied smirk James observed the elderly fellow thread the brunette’s arm through his, then stroll away while his own prey sulkily watched them.
‘Oh...I wasn’t expecting to bump into you, sir.’ Lily tried to dodge past James, but he’d wedged her against a hedge with his horse’s flanks.
‘And I don’t suppose you’re too pleased about it, are you, my girl? But I’m glad to see you, Lily. I’ll be happier to see my money.’ Jumping down, he held her arm in a pinching grip, preventing her from bolting. ‘Give back that guinea you stole or it’ll be the worse for you.’
Lily squirmed, but James tightened his hold until she threw back her head and gave him a defiant glare from beneath a wagging feather. ‘Too late—it’s gone and serve you right for bringing me a brooch worth a farthing.’ She pulled at her lapel to show him a gaudy set of coloured stones. ‘See...bought a nicer one and told Johnny it came from you.’
James’s mouth disappeared into a hard line and his cheeks whitened in rage. ‘I’ll take payment in some form, you little trollop!’ James began leading his horse and dragging her along with him towards dense shrubbery. He was so fired up he knew he’d forgo decency and tumble her right now in the bushes—with the cream of society close by—rather than let her escape punishment.
‘Let me go or I’ll scream blue murder,’ Lily squeaked.
