“Very fine indeed,” the baron said, “much was accomplished this past week.”
“Money in one’s pocket must always be comfortable, and what a lot you did take from Lord Easton and the Regent,” Caroline said, examining one of her father’s snuff boxes and wondering if she dared use it while he was looking. She thought not.
“It was not only money I took from them,” the baron said, looking pleased with himself. “I have made arrangements.”
“Oh, Papa, you did not allow either of them to pay over time? It is always a problem, especially with the Regent. How does one dun a Prince? Nobody has yet to figure it out.”
“They have paid me about half of what they owe, but it seems they are both for their own reasons in some straits at the moment. Easton has made some ruinous bets recently. And Prinny, well, he and Mrs. Fitzherbert have been on the outs but he thinks he can rekindle things by way of improvements to her house and a rather costly necklace. In any case, those two gentlemen have made up the difference in payment with something far more valuable.”
Caroline could not imagine what was more valuable than pounds and pence since any item was valued by its worth in pounds and pence. Perhaps the only thing that could not be priced was an exceptional horse, but the baron had those while the Prince and Lord Easton did not. As far as she knew, neither of them had a stud that could equal any of their own.
“Lord and Lady Easton are going to bring you out in Brighton,” the baron said. “Prinny will lend a hand and show his support, making it a sure bet that you will be invited everywhere.”
“Papa,” Caroline said, entirely confused, “I am already out. I’ve been out since I was fifteen. For that matter, was I ever reallyin?”
“Ah hah!” the baron said, pointing at her. “You’ve hit on the problem exactly. Nothing has been done proper. You know what goes on in this house, who has the time to do anything proper? So here we are and I have a grown daughter who regularly celebrates my horseracing wins with the stable hands. It will not do. I let things drift for too long, but it will not do at all.”
“Is this about the gin last night?” Caroline asked. “I very sensibly only had two glasses—one for the win and one for luck.”
“It’s not about the gin, though perhaps when you go to Brighton keep it under wraps that you’ve ever tasted the stuff. It’s not a lady’s drink, after all.”
“Of course it is not and you well know I’d prefer a Canary or something like it but they only ever have gin in the stables. It was a celebration and one must adapt to the milieu one finds oneself in.”
“There, that’s another thing,” the baron said, nodding vigorously. “Your milieu should not include gin-drinking stable hands. I’ve been very remiss about that, I’m sure I have.”
“You have been remiss about nothing,” Caroline said soothingly. “There is no reason I must go to Brighton and leave you with the eight of your children that provide you no help whatsoever and are only good at getting under your feet.”
“They are rascals, eh?” the baron said, smiling. “I fell flat on the floor last night thanks to James. He’d ranged his toy soldiers across the front hall to guard the house again.”
“You see?” Caroline said, certain she could turn her father from this bizarre plan. “You need me here to keep everything in as good of an order as it can be kept. Mama is too busy forever blooming to do it.”
“She is always blooming, is she not?” the baron asked. He was exceedingly fond of his wife and though the arrival of another baby was always somewhat alarming, it was also welcome.
Caroline sat back, satisfied that she’d convinced her dear father that he could not do without her.
He drummed his fingers on the desk. “No, I will not be turned from this idea,” he said. “You must go to Brighton.”
“But Lord Easton, Papa? He is a pleasant enough fellow,” Caroline said, “but I cannot imagine he wishes me to haunt his halls. Why should he? He does not even have daughters of his own.”
“Easton will have little to do with it, I imagine. It is Lady Easton that will manage the thing. She is a respectable lady and will guide you with an expert hand.”
“Guide me?” Caroline said, the dread creeping into her voice. “You’ve met her, haven’t you? She’s a stick, isn’t she?”
“I have not met her, but the lady’s reputation precedes her. By all accounts, she is the stickiest of sticks,” the baron said. “Andthatis why she’ll do very well.”
Caroline stared at her father. He seemed entirely set on the idea. When he became entirely set on an idea, it was very hard to move him off it. Good Lord, was she really to be forced to spend months being bossed about by a stick?
“Do not look so glum, Caro,” her father said kindly. “At least I won’t have to worry that you will suddenly announce you will marry one of the grooms. Go find a fine-looking fellow with good prospects.”
Caroline considered the idea. Of course, she did wish to marry and she’d seen nobody in her neighborhood that was likely. She’d thought she might meet someone at one of her father’s races but that had not happened either. Her father was too prone to being in the company of middle-aged and married men. He did not have much patience for young men, he said they were far too busy proving they already knew everything to ever learn anything. In any case, he rarely went to parties or dinners and when he did it was all men. Even if there had been some young buck to encounter, she would not have been invited.
Maybe she could meet some dashing fellow in Brighton. While she had no interest in having nine children when four would perfectly suffice, she was very interested in the mechanism by which her mother was always found to be blooming.
She nodded and said, “Very well, Papa. I will go and live with the stick for a while. I will even abide by her stickiest of stick rules. But I warn you now, I will not become a stick and I certainly will notmarrya stick!”
*
Richard Camden, Earlof Bertridge, strode across the wide avenue of Portland Place to see his aunt. Lady Easton had sent a footman over to inquire if he was still in town and to request his presence if he was. She had caught him at the last moment, as he’d planned to close up the house and travel to his estate in Hertfordshire on the very next day. He had been communicating with his steward throughout the season and he had a long list of improvements in mind.
