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“Betsy, Susan. That’s enough,” she said. “You own that copy at home and have no need of borrowing it.”
They rose as if it was the most laborious chore in the world, and Susan plopped the volume of poetry back onto the shelf with a thunk.
“Lady Edith, did you not wish to check if the library has a flute in their musical instrument section?” Grace asked.
She brightened. “Oh yes! I would love the opportunity to play again. I was worried that bringing my own would damage it during the journey,” she explained to Betsy, who nodded as if she knew anything at all about instruments, which Caroline knew she did not.
“There are ever so many in the music room,” Susan chirped up. “Do let us go and see what is available!”
They moved to the music room, where Betsy slid onto a stool in front of a pianoforte that was used for evening performances, and began very prettily to ask one of the gentlemen perusing the room if he would be so good as to tutor her in all things musical.
Caroline pressed a hand to her head, then strode over. She wedged herself between Betsy and the gentleman, who was peering with great interest down Betsy’s dress. Where on earth had her fichu gone? Had she no modesty?
“My sister needs no such help, thank you,” she said, ignoring Betsy’s pout.
“I thought you would wish me to encourage other suitors, as you seemed displeased with Mr. Graham.” Fire snapped in her eyes.
Caroline didn’t choose to respond to that. “Betsy, why don’t you help Lady Edith choose some sheet music for her flute?”
Betsy sulked over to Lady Edith, where Susan was already flipping through ballads and singing off-key. Caroline went over to them as well and cupped Susan’s elbow, leaning in close. “Susan dearest, perhaps we could employ a singing tutor if you have any interest in performing in public. Would you enjoy that?”
“I don’t think so,” she said after a moment of thought. “I rather like my voice. Edie says it’s very energetic.”
Lady Edith looked apologetic. Caroline couldn’t blame her. It would be difficult to tell a friend that she was not in the best voice for company.
“Perhaps you could restrain yourself here and give us all a chance to focus on the tasks at hand.”
Susan nodded and flipped another sheet of music.
Jacob strode in. “Caro, there you are! I was looking all over for you!”
His eyes were wild, and Caroline was shocked as he came closer and she smelled gin on his breath. It was but half past two in the afternoon. His chest was heaving as if he had run across town.
Chapter Nineteen
Jacob was less than steady on his feet. Caroline gripped his arm and wrenched him out of the lending library. “Have you no decorum? Could this not wait until we were home?”
Susan and Betsy came after them, their heels clacking loudly on the stairs.
“I have things under control, Caro.” He ran his hand through his hair and tugged at his dishevelled cravat.
“The devil you do!” Caroline snapped. “What is the meaning of this?”
The street wasn’t empty, but thankfully it wasn’t so crowded that they would be overheard. Of course, none of her family members would have cared if it was thronged with curious visitors with eager ears.
“I might be in a spot of trouble,” he said, his voice low. “But don’t worry. I will leave Inverley for a spell, and all this will blow over.”
“Leave Inverley!” Betsy cried. “Oh, do take me with you!”
“And me!” Susan said.
“No one is going with him,” Caroline said sharply. “Why are you so desperate to leave, Jacob?”
“I may have gambled a little too much last night at our party, and—and—dash it all, I had to leave my vowels.” He rubbed his brow with his thumb and forefinger, and Caroline noticed that his hand was shaking. “I don’t have the blunt to cover the debt. I must be off to London to visit our banker.”
“How much did you lose, Jacob?”
She stared into his eyes, willing him to give the answer, but he looked away.
