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Fenton stroked Fanny’s earlobe. “Tell me, my love, do you intend to sit by and see that poor chit bartered by my late batman’s harridan of a widow for thirteen pieces of silver—"
“A thousand pounds,” Fanny corrected him, moving her head so he could gain access to the other side of her neck. “Or it is two? I don’t know where I heard the rumour that Mrs Hodge stands to gain considerably through persuading Lizzy to accept Mr Dalgleish’s suit, though I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“I’d like to determine if it’s true. I certainly hope it’s not. Dalgleish is a bounder. A libertine.”
“You may not like him, darling, but not everyone shares your sentiments that he is not quite the thing. And perhaps he would do very well for young Lizzy who, I gather, is a rather dull and unprepossessing piece.” Fanny was almost purring at her husband’s ministrations. She stretched languorously, tweaking the skirts of her red-velvet gown so she could more comfortably place her leg across his thigh. She knew that Minnie, the parlourmaid, understood from previous experience, the need to give advance notice of any new arrivals to the drawing room as Fanny, even after five years of marriage, often found it difficult to restrain her impulses where her handsome husband was concerned.
She turned to cup Fenton’s chin and said with an air of thoughtful appreciation, “You have to admit that Mr Dalgleish does have a certain cachet about him. I can see that a young lady with not much to recommend her—other than her fortune, of course—would be rather taken. Both you and Antoinette admired his dancing skill at Mrs Montrose’s ball the other month, if you recall.”
“I believe I remarked favourably upon his dancing expertise with some cynicism after he finished a flamboyant high kick with a rather dandyish flourish.” Fenton’s hand strayed to Fanny’s décolletage. “Your sister remarked favourably upon some of his additional attributes, which were shown to great advantage by the apparent scarcity of fabric used to construct his inexpressibles. But then, your sister’s judgement in men has always left a great deal to be desired. Barring Quamby, of course,” he added in a tone that conveyed both levity and disapproval, which caused Fanny to sigh.
“You put me in a difficult position, Fenton darling, if you came here to warn me off promoting the match.” Fanny hoisted herself into a sitting position. “Are you telling me I should actively discourage the two of them spending time together?”
“Not at all. My, but you are irresistible when you are out of sorts with me.” Fenton’s tone was mild. He touched the tip of her nose with his forefinger. “I’m just suggesting that this might be one occasion that you and your sister take a step back from your enthusiastic approach to matchmaking. Don’t push Miss Scott into something she will have to live with—perhaps with regret—for the rest of her life.”
“Surely anything would be better than living with Mrs Hodge for the next six years?”
“Six years is not sixty, my dear.”
Fanny fingered the pearl ribbon that was woven through her hair and frowned. “It’s true I’ve not met Lizzy Scott, and it’s true that I don’t think much of what I’ve heard about her,” she conceded. “But I have taken a great dislike to Mrs Hodge. Your poor batman was probably only too happy to be released from this mortal coil if he’d been leg-shackled to his Mistress Hodge for so long. You call it matchmaking, but I should consider it my duty to do what I can to ensure Miss Scott finds herself a nice young man so as to free herself from bondage to the old termagant.”
“Just not necessarily in order to throw her at Mr Dalgleish who clearly is only interested in her money.” Fenton rose to warm himself by the fire. “If there is some preposterous transaction between Mr Dalgleish and Mrs Hodge it surely can’t be legal and binding.”
“No,” Fanny agreed. “Mrs Hodge intimated that her husband entered into a business arrangement with Mr Dalgleish not long before he died. She said Lizzy had shown interest in Mr Dalgleish, and that some understanding regarding a match between them had been entered into as a result.”
“Well, that sounds vague and no basis to force Lizzy into a match she does not wish.”
“But if she does wish it?”
Fenton shrugged. “Then of course.” He glanced at his timepiece before heading for the door. “Forgive me for cutting this short, my love, but I must make myself scarce before Mrs Hodge arrives.”
Fanny put out an arm to detain him as he passed. “If not Mr Dalgleish, then to whom can we introduce Lizzy Scott? Mrs Hodge has set up my bristles nicely, and I consider it my duty to see poor dull Lizzy rescued from bondage to the woman. Have we invited any other eligible young men who may be in a marrying mood?”
“Anyone within four hours’ drive of Quamby House, you mean?” Fenton appeared to consider the question before he checked himself at the sound of distant voices. With a somewhat panicked glance at the door, he extricated his fingers from Fanny’s. “Rest assured I did not extend an invitation to Mr McAlister, even if his grandfather was Quamby’s crony and supped here every Yuletide for as long as Quamby can remember.”
“I’m glad to hear it for the grandson sounds hideously ramshackle. I’m sure he’d be too ashamed to show his face, in any case.” Fanny’s lips quirked. “Now, I suspect you’ve waited too long to make good your escape. Judging by the location of Mrs Hodge’s nasal bray, I’d say she was already at the juncture of the corridor and will be upon us within five seconds.”
Feigning horror, Fenton reached the sash window just as Minnie stepped into the room to announce the imminent arrival of Mrs Hodge and Reverend Snell.
“Oh Fenton, surely you’re not really—”
“My dear, desperate times call for desperate measures,” her husband declared, hooking one leg over the sill.
“But you know how it frightened me when you used to climb out of my bedchamber upon hearing Mama storming up the passage,” complained Fanny.
“It didn’t frighten you one bit! You’re only jealous you can’t join me but will in fact have to entertain our garrulous guest, alone.”
“That’s true, but— Ah, Mrs Hodge, how delightfully becoming that shade of puce is to your complexion.”
Ever the consummate hostess, Fanny welcomed her unwelcome guest, echoing Mrs Hodge’s regret as the woman accepted a glass of sherry, her lips twisted in a moue of disappointment at having just missed his ‘handsome lordship’, while only the billowing curtains gave any indication as to how narrow a miss it had been.
Chapter 4
Lizzy squeezed the water from her hair before dressing in the simple gown the servant had laid out on the bed. A night-rail lay beside it, but there was too much novelty to be had from engaging Mr McAlister in the company he was honour-bound to offer her, than to go straight to sleep which is what she most certainly should have done.
And which she may have done if the warmth of the brandy hadn’t dispelled any of Mrs Hodge’s cautions about dangerous situations that could result from spending time alone with handsome young men.
Of course, her reputation was at risk, but if she arrived at her destination the following day with Mabel in tow, no one would know she hadn’t spent the night at an inn.
