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As the footmen wavered and relinquished their grip, she dragged Jasper to follow her, and miraculously nobody argued. Instead, one of the men scurried ahead and opened a door to a small receiving room and together they manoeuvred the suddenly limp lord on to a spindly sofa which barely seemed capable of taking his weight. With her new charge now slumped but thankfully subdued, she beamed at the servant as if he were her best friend in the world. ‘Thank you so much. You have been most helpful, Mr...’
‘It’s Prescott, my lady. We don’t bother with the mister.’
‘Thank you, Prescott. Could you quietly summon the Avondale carriage and ask it to wait around the corner rather than directly outside? The fewer people who see His Lordship in this state, the better for all of us on a night like tonight.’
The footman nodded, clearly worried about the potential repercussions she had hinted at and that caused her a pang of guilt. ‘No doubt once His Lordship here is feeling better, he will reward you and your colleague for both your kindness and discretion tonight. I know that I shall personally mention how sensible you have both been to the Master of the Household after I have dealt with the problem at hand.’ She rummaged in her evening bag for the guinea her father always insisted his girls carry everywhere in case of an emergency and pressed it into the footman’s gloved palm. ‘In the meantime, let’s keep all this between us, shall we?’
‘Of course, my lady. Nobody else needs to know.’ The young man tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially, making Hattie thank her lucky stars that her mama had always instilled in her offspring the importance of keeping the servants on side and treating them with the utmost respect. ‘Once the carriage is in place, I shall escort you out through the back by route of the servants’ corridor so none of the guests see him.’ She also thanked her wise papa for that emergency guinea too as that had doubtless been just as useful. ‘But it might be a while as the mews is very busy.’
Of course it was. On a night like tonight, every carriage in Mayfair was probably cluttering the palace yard. ‘While we wait, can I impose on you to procure us a big pot of coffee, Prescott, if it is not too much trouble?’ There was no point dragging her brother away from the ball and his new wife until the carriage was ready. Meanwhile she could assist in some small way by sobering Jasper up, and pretend she wasn’t relieved to have the perfect excuse to avoid the ballroom in the process. ‘Order it as strong as possible—as I suspect Lord Beaufort will need every drop of it to make it to the carriage when it arrives.’
Prescott left them, and in case anyone else stumbled upon them, had the foresight to hand Hattie a key so that she could lock the door behind him. When she turned back towards Jasper, he was hunched forward as if the entire weight of the world rested on his broad shoulders. Without thinking, and in the absence of any clue as to what to say to him to make him feel better, she placed a soothing hand on his shoulder and rubbed.
‘Oh, Jasper, what on earth were you thinking to come here tonight after you lost Cora?’ There seemed little point in skirting around it now that she knew the woman had been his mistress.
‘Clearly I wasn’t thinking, was I?’ He groaned and massaged his temples as his solid body deflated beneath her palms.
‘Brandy will do that.’ At least she assumed the alcohol on his breath was brandy. It smelled exactly like the expensive cognac her father poured on special occasions. ‘Did you drink the entire bottle?’
He shrugged, looking befuddled then returned his head gratefully to his hands as if it weighed too much for his neck. ‘Mrs Mimms brought it after I put Izzy to bed. It takes her for ever to fall asleep. Izzy that is. Not Mrs Mimms. I have no idea how long it takes that nagging harridan to nod off and not sure that I care to picture it.’
Hattie could think of no response to that so rubbed his shoulder some more.
‘Why is it, Hattie, when something bad happens, people always offer you a stiff brandy?’
He was talking to his shoes, his agitated fingers making a mess of his already rumpled hair. ‘Had a fright—have a brandy. Had a shock—what you need is a brandy. Feeling upset, confused, riddled with guilt, had your entire world turned upside down in a single moment—have a brandy. As if a damned brandy can numb the pain of losing someone you loved or can miraculously turn you into a father when you have no clue how, when I can assure you it damn well doesn’t.’
Father!
So Izzy was his?
She hadn’t been expecting that, but then again, now that she knew it, she wasn’t that surprised. The little girl had his colouring. Certainly the same dark, tousled hair. And he and the mysterious Cora Marlow were once romantically linked.
He slumped further forward, his voice thick with emotion as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘What on earth was Cora thinking to leave poor Izzy to me? What the blazes do I know about parenting?’
‘Perhaps she knew that the pair of you adore one another?’ That had been glaringly obvious even from the few moments Hattie had witnessed. ‘That seems to me to be one of the most fundamental things when it comes to children.’
‘Maybe so but that’s hardly enough, is it?’ He began to furiously pat down his coat then produced a crumpled piece of paper. ‘The shopping list alone that Mrs Mimms gave me is enough to give a man palpitations.’ He thrust the list at her as if most of what was on it baffled him. ‘Who knew little girls wore chemises and stockings too? And what is an under petticoat? Is that the same as a normal petticoat or is it something different? And where the blazes do I buy it all from as I doubt my usual tailor in Jermyn Street makes it?’
Hattie resisted the urge to envelop him in a hug and settled for sitting beside him instead so she could rub his back. ‘I am sure you can procure it all from Bond Street.’
‘Because I am sure a big hairy man is most welcome in an establishment which sells female unmentionables.’
Hattie supposed he made a valid point. Such shopping was a mother’s job, not a father’s. ‘Did Izzy not come with any luggage?’
‘Of course she did—the bare essentials.’ That word with its triple Ss caused his tongue a bit of trouble. ‘I have to fetch the rest when I close up Cora’s house. But those things won’t last long.’ He stared solemnly into her eyes as if about to impart some great wisdom. ‘Children grow. According to Mrs Mimms they grow exponentially at Izzy’s age.’ He expanded the gap between his palms in the air and stared at it in both wonder and disgust.
‘And she’s going to need governesses and tutors for all the feminine pursuits which I cannot teach her. What do I know about embroidery and music and deportment?’ He clutched her hand, sending ripples of awareness ricocheting through her fingers and up her arm. ‘At least you used to be a little girl so you have some grounding in the subject. I have nothing—beyond the knowledge of the female of the species I absolutely do not want her to have.’ He frowned again, looking every bit as outraged by that as Freddie was that his baby sister dared to go to Covent Garden without a bodyguard by her side. ‘Oh, God! Now that’s another thing to worry about!’
‘Not for a goodly few years, Jasper. Izzy is what? Five?’
‘Almost five.’ He held up five fingers in case she couldn’t count. Or he couldn’t. Judging by the way he was squinting at them, thanks to the brandy he could likely see ten. ‘It is a big responsibility bringing up a child—but an even bigger one to bring up a daughter. Especially one who is going to need as much protecting as Izzy is.’ He pointed in the direction of the music drifting faintly from the ballroom as if it was the enemy. ‘Because they all know where she came from and not one of them is going to ever let her forget it.’
Another valid point. As the illegitimate daughter of a courtesan, the prim and proper Duchess of Warminsters of the ton who esteemed bloodlines over everything else would never accept her no matter who her father was.
‘At least you are destined to be a duke one day...that should make things easier.’ A useless platitude if ever there was one, but all Hattie had in her arsenal. ‘And at least you can afford a decent dowry for her when the time comes.’
‘So that the fortune hunters can swarm over her like flies as they are you? That will hardly help poor Cora rest in peace when she is counting on me to make amends.’
