“No, for my hospital.” Not bothering to hide her pride, Honora raised her chin. “Last year, I founded a lying-in hospital for the less fortunate mothers and children in Worthing. They come to us withnothing. It lifts their spirits to have something”—she cringed at her next word—“pretty.”
“That’s noble of you,” Jasmine marveled.
“Women often find themselves in desperate situations. I can help, and so I do. We’ve made considerable progress with the birthrate in Worthing. What cause will you devote your time to once you’re Lady Lincolnshire?”
“I haven’t thought of it,” Jasmine answered. After trapping Matthew in the wine cellar, her focus had been surviving minute-to-minute. Not expecting to get this far, she hadn’t considered the future. But in a few weeks, she would have the responsibilities of a viscountess.
“What would you recommend?” Jasmine asked Honora.
“There are several good causes. Tomorrow, at Almack’s, I’ll introduce you to the Society of Benevolent Ladies. Perhaps you’ll gain some inspiration.”
“Thank you, that’s kind of you.” Jasmine turned to Cassandra. “What charities are you involved with?”
“My focus is primarily on home. I’ll help you as much as I can with Lincolnshire’s needs,” she said. “Seth and I sponsor an orphanage, but it’s under Lord Bolderwood’s name. Not everyone is so accepting ofhowwe acquire our wealth.”
Even an orphanage won’t take blood money.
Would a charity turn down a donation with her name on it because of Matthew’s profession? Or would she need to use her mother’s name?
“Oh.” Cassandra winced. Then, her eyes widened. “Oh!” She put a hand to her belly and called across the room. “Aunt Valentine! Come here, make haste!”
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Mother stumbled over her dress in her haste to reach Cassandra’s side. “Shall I call for a physician—”
Cassandra reached for Mother’s hand and pressed it to her stomach with such force the Marchioness almost toppled over. Cassandra furrowed her brows, then readjusted Mother’s hand and pressed in.
“What is—oh!” Mother’s eyes misted over. “Oh.”
Cassandra shot a playful wink at Jasmine before returning her smile to Mother. “Aunt Valentine, meet Rebecca.”
“Rebecca?” Jasmine asked.
“After Seth’s mother,” Cassandra explained. “We want to honor her memory. If we have a third, we’ll name her Catherine, after mine.”
Mother kissed Cassandra on her cheek.
“You’re a warrior, my dear. Your mother would be proud. I always wanted more children, but…” Her eyes shifted to the children on the floor. She gave a sad sigh, shook her head, and smiled softly at Jasmine. “Even so. Jasmine had enough energy for five children. I might not have survived two of her.”
Jasmine sat dumbfounded at the knowledge presented to her. Beforeshe could respond, a knock on the door interrupted her and silenced Caroline’s playing.
Percival, a middle-aged, brown-haired footman dressed in maroon livery, stood in the doorway.
“Pardon me, Your Ladyship. His Excellency, Don Alejandro Navarro, is in the hall requesting an audience. Shall I show him in?”
Mother stood and adopted a regal stance. “Yes, you may.”
The footman left the room, and the Spanish ambassador entered. Dressed in a navy-blue tailcoat, he held himself with the confident air of a lifelong diplomat. With a gentle-natured smile, he addressed her mother. “Good morning, Your Ladyship. Pardon my intrusion, but might I have a word?”
“To what do we owe the honor of your presence today, Your Excellency?”
“I heard the Miss playing the pianoforte, and I found myself drawn in.” His gaze respectfully traveled to Caroline. “I had the pleasure of dancing with her at your soirée. If it pleases the lady, with your permission, we could walk through the gardens…?”
She gave Caroline an inquisitive look. “What do you say, Caroline?”
“That sounds lovely. The gardens are beautiful this time of year.” Caroline smiled at him, then addressed the women in the room. “I’ll need a chaperone, of course.”
Honora put her needlework to the side. “If you’ll give me one moment—”
Caroline put her hands in the air.
