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“Then why did you say nothing until now, dearest?” There was acid in Quamby’s tone. “Lord Leighton is my friend—or rather, his sponsor is, as well as being Miss Harcourt’s uncle. She has been his ward since she was a child, and she is betrothed to Lord Leighton. I am honour-bound to see to her welfare while she is under our roof. I invited her here at Lord Leighton’s behest so that she would be safe until he arrived back from the Continent. And now you tell me she’s going to elope with someone else? With Mr McAlister? After what happened to her sister?”
Fanny understood Quamby’s agitation. “But what if Miss Harcourt doesn’t want to marry Lord Leighton?” she asked.
“I hardly think that marrying a bounder like McAlister is the solution!” Lord Quamby countered. “He has not a feather to fly with and a tarred reputation, and hers will be in tatters in consequence.”
Fenton entered the fray, challenging Quamby when he asked, “So, as long as Theo McAlister doesn’t run off with Miss Harcourt, you’ll consider this house party a success?” With eyebrows still raised, he fixed Fanny with his next question. “And as long as McAlister doesn’t run off with Lizzy, you’ll be happy? But what of Lady Conroy’s allegations?”
“Really, Fenton!” Fanny was truly annoyed. “Lizzy mustn’t marry Harry Dalgleish after what we’ve heard this afternoon. But I hardly think Mr McAlister is suitable either. She’s young. She’ll find someone else.”
“However, in all likeli
hood, and out of all our guests here tonight,” Fenton went on, “one of these gentlemen is planning to whisk one of these ladies off to Gretna Green—”
Antoinette clapped her hands. “It’s so romantic! Quamby, I wish you’d been so romantic as to whisk me off—”
“Please. Stop!” Fanny cried, putting her hands to her ears for a moment as she glared at her sister. “It’s not romantic at all. It’s terrible! It’s shameful!”
“Well, only if it happens under our roof,” Fenton added with faint cynicism. He sighed. “Though I do concede we need to ensure that it doesn’t happen.”
“Who could it be?” Fanny asked, puzzling it out before answering her own question. “Mr Dalgleish? He has Mrs Hodge’s endorsement, but if Lizzy doesn’t want to marry him, he may be prepared to go to any lengths.”
“But McAlister is more desperate even,” Antoinette piped up excitedly. “He’s handsome and bold and brave and madly in love!”
“But is his love returned?” Fanny asked. “And is it Lizzy? Perhaps it’s plain, dumpy Miss Harcourt?”
“She’s hardly plain and dumpy,” Fenton countered, “though she doesn’t have Lizzy’s vibrancy, I’ll admit.”
“But she has lots of money.” Fanny felt miserable just thinking of it. “And she’s nearly twenty-one. I believe those are the terms of her inheritance? Like Lizzy, she’ll come into her fortune, independently, if she’s not married by then.”
“So why would she want to elope with penniless Mr McAlister if she only needs to wait a few months until the money is hers to do with what she likes?” asked Fenton.
Quamby interjected with more than usual vehemence. “He’s doing no less than he did with the girl’s sister. He plans to kidnap her by force! By God, we must stop him!”
Antoinette rose. “This is all very exciting though quite vexing since we don’t know who it is, but I’m sure you gentlemen will put a stop to anything havey-cavey occurring tonight and we can all discuss it over breakfast. In the meantime, someone should go down to greet the guests.”
“Yes, I think we should all go.” Fanny nodded reluctantly, though she also wondered how genuine her sister’s insouciant air really was. It was out of character for Antoinette not to throw herself into the thick of anything that smacked of drama or romance. She took her husband’s arm and went to the door. “And one of us must ensure that coach-and-four doesn’t depart this evening bearing Mr McAlister or Mr Dalgleish and some unfortunate heiress from our midst.”
“For then you’ll never get your court invitation, will you, dearest?” Antoinette asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Fanny shook her head. “No, I won’t. But even if you don’t believe it, I actually am more motivated by genuine concern for our fortune hunter’s unfortunate companion than I am for an invitation to Court.”
Chapter 25
“Please miss, will yer stand up so I can put yer dress on.”
Lizzy barely registered Mabel’s frustration, but she stood up obediently; her eyes all the while focused on the darkness through the chink in the curtains. That was what her future held—darkness.
But what could she expect? She had been led like a foolish greenhorn to a place where she’d be with a gentleman, alone. And that’s what happened to impulsive, impetuous, rash young ladies like herself. They got their comeuppance, and they got what they deserved. Mrs Hodge had been drumming it into her head all evening.
“Miss, are yer all right?”
She heard the anxiety in Mabel’s voice and managed to nod vaguely.
“You mustn’t pay any mind ter wot anybody says—truly, miss. ‘Tis wot’s in yer 'eart wot’s important.” Mabel put her hands on Lizzy’s waist so she could turn her in order to do up the buttons on the back of her dress.
This was the grandest ballgown Lizzy had ever owned, but the pleasure she’d initially felt in the pale-pink lutestring gown with its heavily embroidered lower skirt and sleeves and the fine lace trimming at the hem, had evaporated.
In her heart, she’d regarded it as the gown that signified her greatest triumph and the pinnacle of all things pleasurable in her life.
