“Good. Then listen to me when I say that Lord Ravenglass would not take a mistress. Essie’s husband was the rake—not your Ravenglass. I’ve not heard a single disparaging word about your man until last night.” Grace clamped her mouth tightly shut, then covered it with her hand.
“Indeed, youshouldclap a hand over your mouth, sister!” Serendipity glared at Grace. “That is not at all helpful.” She returned her attention to Fortuity, rubbing and patting her backas if she suffered from colic and needed to break wind. “I did overhear some news you are sure to find encouraging.”
Fortuity allowed herself a despondent sigh. “What news?”
“The Sykesburys have moved to a small village in the Lake District. Permanently. Or, at least, they leave for their new home today, so you won’t have the displeasure of sharing a household with Eleanor.”
“Thatisa bit of a bright point.” Although, to be honest, Fortuity hadn’t even gotten that far in her worries. She felt sure she would have eventually dreaded living under the same roof as Eleanor but simply hadn’t thought of it yet. “How long does he intend to stay?” she asked Serendipity.
Her sister frowned. “How long does who intend to stay where? Lord Ravenglass? Here, today?”
“Who else, Seri?” Fortuity groaned and rocked forward, hugging her middle. How had life become such a mess so quickly?
“Sorry. I was still reveling in Eleanor’s departure before she wreaked any more havoc.” Serendipity rose from the lounge. “I am unsure how long Lord Ravenglass intends to stay, but he inquired about you, and left me with the impression that he would not be averse to seeing you.” She offered a compassionate tip of her head. “The question is: do you feel well enough to go downstairs and see him? You have gone a bit pale again.”
“But she’s not as green.” Merry came forward with a cup and offered it to Fortuity. “I had Jenny bring it up. It’s one of her best tonics for settling ill humors.” When Fortuity didn’t move to take it, Merry pushed it into her hands. “It’s minty and not foul at all. Nothing like the tonics from Mrs. Flackney and Mama we used to have to take.”
Fortuity sniffed the pale concoction that resembled weak tea. It did indeed smell of mint. She hazarded a sip, hoping it wouldcalm her breakfast beverage that was churning to escape her stomach.
“See? Not terrible at all.”
Merry’s usual cheeriness grated on Fortuity’s nerves, but she kept herself from snapping at her well-meaning sister by taking another sip. “No. Not terrible at all,” she said, wishing the remedy would ease her tumultuous feelings as effectively as it calmed her stomach. “I suppose I shall go down now and discover what Matthew and Chance have decided about my future.” Tears that begged to be cried stung her eyes, making her blink faster. Why should she even call itherfuture when it was quite clear that nothing about it was within her control?
She mentally shook herself. Wallowing in self-pity did nothing but make her weaker. She might not have control overwhathappened to her, but she controlled how she reacted to it. After all, she was a writer and created such dramatic plots all the time. How would she write her heroine’s way out of this? Deuced if she knew.
She rose from the lounge and set the cup on the table. “Is everyone ready, then? I am sure you all wish to overhear what is discussed between my future husband and myself.”
Serendipity and Merry gave her astonished looks while Grace glared at her and said, “Shall I fetch Felicity and Joy so you can bathe them in this lovely mood of yours?”
A twinge of guilt nipped at Fortuity. This situation was not her sisters’ fault. “Forgive me. You three are not the enemy.”
“You know we will help you in any way we can,” Serendipity said.
“And if he does choose to take a mistress, we will make him sorry,” Grace promised.
“We swear,” Merry added.
“A sister cannot ask for more than that.” Fortuity led the way downstairs and turned into the hall leading to the parlor.
“Library,” Serendipity called out from behind her. “Chance had loads of paperwork to sort through, so they are in the library.”
Of course they were in the library, what with the marriage agreement details to settle. Fortuity shifted directions, accessing the different hallway by using the servants’ corridor. The closer she drew to the room, the harder her heart pounded. She knew what she wanted and prayed she could convince Chance and Matthew to add it to the contract. After a hard swallow, she pushed onward, quickening her pace and feeling like a lamb headed for slaughter. At the closed library door, she halted and knocked.
“Yes?” Chance’s response came quickly and wasn’t as surly as she’d expected.
“It is Fortuity, Chance,” she said, “along with three members of the flock to uphold my confidence, I suppose you could say.”
The door opened, and she immediately found herself floundering in the concern filling Matthew’s flinty gray eyes. “Matthew,” she whispered, then corrected herself and said louder, “Lord Ravenglass.”
Disappointment furrowed his brow. “I prefer Matthew.”
She curtsied, then stepped around him, entering the room with her sisters in tow. Heart still pounding, she braced herself for the men’s reactions as she put forth the only condition over which she hoped to have any control. The condition that would not only save her pride but also her heart in this untenable situation. “I have a request,” she told her brother as she halted in front of his desk.
Standing beside his leather wingback chair as he waited for his sisters to be seated, Chance fixed her with a warning look. “Fortuity, you understand the ramifications should you refuse Lord Ravenglass’s offer of marriage?”
“I do not intend to refuse it.”
Her infuriating brother had the audacity to smile. “Good, then I believe he and I have come up with a most agreeable marriage contract.”
