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“But how could I return?” her mother interrupted. “I’ve been so foolish about our money.” Her hands clasped convulsively.
“He would like to settle an income on you. A permanent one that could never be withdrawn.”
“Oh, Harriet!” The tears spilled over. “So generous.”
“So that is what you would like?” Harriet still wasn’t certain.
“More than anything. Oh, Harriet, can it really be true?”
“Quite true.”
Her mother’s breath caught on a sob. “I never dared dream… I would visit you, of course. It is not too far away. But to have my own… You say our old house can be taken?”
“Ferrington has bought it,” Harriet replied.
“Bought!” Her mouth fell open. “Bought?”
“Yes, Mama. For you.”
She stared, astounded, wordless.
“What has happened?” asked Charlotte, coming over to join them. Sarah trailed along behind.
“Harriet is marrying the most wonderful man in the world,” said her mother.
“Really?” Charlotte rested her satirical dark eyes on Harriet.
“I think perhaps I am,” she agreed.
***
The Winstead ball took place on a balmy summer evening when a full moon made nighttime travel easy for the neighbors. And notables from miles around made it their business to attend, drawn by the promise of meeting a duke and duchess and the affianced wife of their local earl. Not to mention Ferrington himself, who had not yet made the acquaintance of many of them. The guests flowed into the just-constructed ballroom, greeted by Harriet, her mother, and her grandfather at the door. From there, they fanned out to examine every nook and cranny of this ambitious addition to Winstead Hall. Jack circulated among them, supported by the Terefords. The duchess had made a list of all those invited and their positions, and Jack had done his best to memorize it. All was going smoothly, and Jack was confident his own plans were firmly in place, when he heard the butler announce an unexpected name.
“Lady Wilton Cantrell,” the man intoned.
Jack spun around. It was true. His wizened great-grandmother stood in the doorway, frowning, of course, resplendent in lavender satin. Jack met Harriet’s stunned gaze. Clearly, she hadn’t known about this either.
“Did they invite Grandmama?” asked the duke at his shoulder.
“Not that I ever heard.” He would have vetoed the idea.
“Do you suppose she is crashing the party?” Tereford wondered. “Idid not tell her of it.”
“I would guess Mr. Winstead asked her,” said the duchess, who had joined them. “He wanted as many nobles here as possible.”
“He said nothing of it,” Jack objected.
“He’s a sly old bird,” she pointed out.
“We’ll have to go and greet her,” said the duke.
Jack set his jaw. “I don’t have to do anything forher.”
“It’s more for Harriet, really,” the duchess responded. “To show she’s welcomed into the family.”
If one called it that. Which Jack did not. But he would do anything for Harriet, even this.
“We’ll stay with you,” said the duchess.
