Lady Mendleton hurried her plump figure to her son’s side and sat down next to him. “It is not that at all!” she said. “Though, since you ask, there is something you ought to know.”
“Will I be made happy in knowing it?” Jasper asked drily.
His mother seemed to consider this question and only shrugged. “I do not see why you should be madeunhappyto know it.”
“Just tell me,” Jasper said.
“It is only this,” Lady Mendleton said, “you of course know how much I adore you and your brother. Never has a mother been more blessed with such fine sons. But, I did so pine for a girl…”
Now, Jasper was beginning to be alarmed. He hoped the dear lady was not under the delusion that she was with child—it was far too late in her history for that. He had no wish to be forced to point out that her expanding waistline was a result of the silver trays of marzipan found on every table.
Suddenly, a far worse idea came to Jasper and he clutched the armrest. Had she adopted some waif without bothering to inform anybody? It was not out of the realms of possibility—the estate was overrun with at least eight dogs of varying sizes and uncertain parentage that had been taken in, one by one. By the fourth dog, Lady Mendleton had garnered a reputation for rescuing, and dogs began to get dropped off on the doorstep under cover of darkness. For all he knew, there were more dogs there by now.
She collected servants just the same way—every hard case that came to her notice was taken in and never left. It was still of some amazement to him that Mrs. Ripperton had been employed as the estate’s housekeeper. Her claim on Lady Mendleton’s affections was two-fold—her husband had died in a tragic accident and she was in the habit of praising Lady Mendleton to the skies. The housekeeper was decidedly lazy, particularly unskilled, probably a drunk, and generally useless. She had not even come to Town, claiming the London air was bad for her chest, though she had wept when Lady Mendleton had suggested hiring someone in her stead. The end result was that there was no housekeeper in the London house and Perry was left to manage it all as best he could.
His mother brushed at her skirts, as if to give herself courage for whatever she was ginning herself up to say. “You know of my friendships with Lady Featherstone, Lady Easton, Lady Redfield, Lady Heathway, and of course the Duchess of Stanbury?”
Jasper nodded. How could he avoid knowing? That gaggle of ladies were like a cabal. They haunted drawing rooms and card rooms, the arbiters of what was acceptable or not—especially Lady Heathway and the duchess.
Good God. He had never thought of it before, but none of those ladies had daughters either. Had theyalladopted female orphans?
“Well, we have formed our own society,” Lady Mendleton went on. “It is The Society of Sponsoring Ladies. We will each sponsor a worthy girl, you see.”
Jasper was not certain he did see. “What do you mean bysponsor,exactly?”
Lady Mendleton patted her son’s hand. “Nothing to disturb your peace, darling,” she said. “The girl will only move in here and I will dress her and squire her about, and of course if you could help me squire and make introductions, well, I can only say, the society would be in your debt.”
Seeing her son was rather speechless at this announcement, the countess hurried on. “I ought to host a ball. Lady Redfield says I really ought. And you see, it is just that I really, really wished to have a daughter. They are different, you know. They depend upon a mother as a son does not. And this way, it will be as if I do have my own daughter. Is that not delightful?”
Jasper could hardly think of anything less delightful. “How has father received this remarkable news?” he asked.
“Oh, him?” Lady Mendleton said with a nervous giggle. “I cannot be sure. He is still at his shooting, you know, so I wrote him a letter.” There was a long pause, and then she said, “The only real expense will be her clothes and the ball and…her dowry.”
“Her dowry!” Jasper nearly shouted.
Lady Mendleton twisted her skirt in her hands and said, “Theodosia says it must be two thousand pounds and it’s quite necessary and that we are to run down, pummel and barrel our way through it.”
“I bet she did,” Jasper said.
“She must be right though,” Lady Mendleton said. “A girl does need a dowry and your father has escaped that inconvenience twice on account of having sons.”
Jasper could perfectly well imagine his father’s complete and utter amazement in becoming apprised of this development. Especially that he was to provide a two-thousand-pound dowry for some person he’d never met in his life.
Then again, once the old man got over the shock, he just might go along and put a good face on it. The amount would not kill him, after all. Further, they all knew that when Lady Mendleton was set on something, she was rather like a badger about it. A smiling and kind badger, but determined all the same. Over the course of years, what once would have elicited strong protests from Lord Mendleton now only drew quiet groans and a glass of brandy to soothe himself.
Jasper supposed he’d better at least pretend to go along with it—let his father put up a fight if he had the fortitude. It was a ridiculous scheme, but she seemed very keen on the idea and they should all be grateful she had not adopted an orphan.
At least, he assumed so.
“And who is this new daughter of yours? She’s not an orphan, is she?” he asked.
Lady Mendleton appeared exceedingly pleased to be asked, as if it indicated all problems had been satisfactorily disposed of. “She is Miss Georgiana Wilcox. She is not an orphan, she is the very charming daughter of Lord Manley. She comes on Tuesday next.”
“I see. May I assure myself that you have no plans to throw hermyway?”
“Gracious, no!” Lady Mendleton said. “I had not even thought…well, you know who I have in mind foryou, dear. No, that would not do at all—you must promise not to be overcome by Miss Wilcox no matter how charming she is!”
Jasper nodded. “You have my solemn vow.”
