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Quietly she crept down the back stairs. If Lord Debenham were after her, she’d be called into the drawing room. Was it about the sketch? Sir Archibald Ledger’s willingness to pay her such a huge sum should have alerted her to the fact there was more to it than a skillful drawing.
In just a couple of minutes, she heard his loud voice booming through the drawing room door as she was hurrying down the passage, past that room, hoping to make it into the garden. Lissa couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t eavesdropping. It was self-preservation. Tiptoeing to the door, she put her ear to the keyhole.
Mr. Cosmo Lamont, the famed sketcher, had apparently drawn Lord Debenham without his permission. His Lordship hadn’t seen the sketch but he’d heard that he’d been placed in company with two villains. A false rendition. He’d learned the news, of all places, in a tavern en route to the country and had returned immediately to London.
Clearly, Miss Maria Lamont was a party to this villainy, enticing His Lordship into the library at a specified time during last week’s ball, no doubt to blackmail him over the sketch before her courage had failed her. Were the two working together? Upstarts! Social climbers! To whom had Mr. Lamont sold the sketch? If Mr. Lamont didn’t divulge this information, Lord Debenham was going to call upon the full force of the law.
Quaking as she listened to this thunderous diatribe, Lissa wondered if she would hear Cosmo admitting that he couldn’t sketch a right ear, much less render a human being recognizable. The thought that she might be exposed and have to suffer the wrath of her darling Ralph’s employer was too terrifying.
The arrival in the passage of Mrs. Lamont saw Lissa scurrying back to the schoolroom before she could hear the end of the diatribe, but shortly after Lord Debenham stormed out of the house, Cosmo’s boots sounded upon the stairs.
“What have you told others about our secret arrangement?” he demanded, throwing open the nursery door. As Clara had just led his sisters downstairs, Lissa was alone. “Were the terms not crystal clear?” In a rage, he paced back and forth, nearly tripping over a small chair and kicking a rag doll into the corner. “We agreed I would get the commissions and, in return, you would deport yourself in society like the lady you’ve always wanted to be. How much simpler could it be? Clearly, you have gone above and beyond yourself!”
Lissa bridled at the way he sneered this. With an effort to control her anger, she reminded him, “And I would get a third, which, I might add, has not been forthcoming to date, Master Cosmo. Not all of it, by a long stretch. And no, I’ve said nothing to anyone.”
Perhaps it wasn’t wise to challenge him so directly. The room was gloomy and isolated and Cosmo could be unpredictable.
He took a menacing step forward, his brow rumpled like an angry bulldog. Lissa glanced nervously at the way he flexed his fingers, as if he really did wish to place them on her person and do her harm.
“So you have taken your revenge, is that it, Miss Hazlett? You think I am not a man of my word?” His nostrils twitched and the whites of his teeth were revealed by the curl of his lip. “You were so impatient for your money that you told lies so that Lord Debenham would threaten me, and you assumed I’d be so terrified I’d hand over the money you believe you’re owed.”
“I’ve told Lord Debenham nothing, nor have I told anyone else about our arrangement,” Lissa reassured him, assessing her escape route. Cosmo was right when he accused her of not trusting him. “I do not know why he thinks he’s been drawn without his knowledge. No one has commissioned a picture of him.”
She clapped her hand to her mouth to stop mentioning the sketch in which he’d appeared with Lord Smythe and Buzby for this was clearly what had angered him. No, whatever happened, she could tell neither Lord Debenham nor Cosmo that this sketch had earned her five pounds after it had attracted such interest from Sir Archie Ledger.
Lissa angled herself toward the doorway but Master Cosmo pinched her shoulder and drew her roughly toward him.
“You are a liar, Miss Hazlett, but if you don’t want to find yourself walking the pavements without a character, you are going to do something for me.”
***
Araminta’s nausea was as regular as clockwork. She’d feel ill mid-afternoon but as soon as she’d thrown up the contents of her stomach half an hour later, she’d be absolutely fine. Her breasts felt tender and she was more tired than usual, but neither had too much of an effect on her general mood which, right now, was ebullient.
She was going to be Lady Ludbridge, mistress of three estates and the cosseted wife of a sweet, handsome, very manageable viscount. She hoped the child she bore would be a girl. It would be only fair to Teddy, to present her new husband with a daughter rather than the desired heir, but regardless, her future was assured.
She had never been so happy.
Jane was busy brushing the hem of her walking dress, which she’d just taken off, in preparation for the gown she’d wear tonight.
Ah yes, the gown that had to be just perfect for her assignation with Teddy. Her grand seduction. The bodice could not be too tight, so that he might be enticed to slip his hand inside. She was glad skirts were fuller this year. That would aid the plans she had made.
“Stop doing that, Jane, and help me with my dress,” she said once she’d dabbed at her face with a cold flannel. “And don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Increasingly, Araminta found Jane’s feigned innocence and her tight-lipped attitude beyond irritating. Much as she would love to get rid of the girl, she needed her. In fact, she’d need her until her wedding, when Araminta would find some means of passing her on. It was never wise to have a person who knew too much cluttering up the place.
“Like you disapprove of me. Yes, I know what you’re thinking but you’d not do anything differently if you were in my position.”
Araminta thought she heard the girl mutter something along the lines that she wouldn’t have got herself in Araminta’s position, but she pretended she didn’t hear. She was in too good a mood to let Jane spoil her wonderful contemplations about the future. Jane was just jealous.
“What do you think about these earrings?” Araminta sat down at her dressing table and tried on a pair of tiny pearl drop earrings.
“Very nice, miss.”
“They don’t bring out the emerald light in my eyes as well as these others but they are more demure. I think that is the look I should strive for.”
“Yes, miss.”
