"Please, Mrs. Waddley, there is no need."
Cecilia waved his hurried assurances aside. "Yes, there is. You see, last evening, I heard someone repeat the phrase my husband recorded in his journal. The phrase that he felt confident is the password for whatever group is illegally using the Waddley Spice and Tea properties. It is the first real break we've had!" She popped the last morsel of the tart into her mouth and set her plate on the tea tray. Her slender fingers, free of encumbrances, fluttered, echoing her words.
"So Lady Meriton has explained."
"I should be merry as a grig to have some new direction for our investigation," Cecilia continued earnestly, "unfortunately, to my mind, it has been like a dam breaking. I find myself remembering too much."
"I'm certain that given the situation, that is perfectly natural."
"That is true, dear," Lady Meriton said, her pale blue eyes expressing concern for her niece.
"Where did you hear this phrase? I'll own I've been wracking my inept brain to understand it or its genesis!" the young Waddley's manager exclaimed.
"Now that is the crux of the matter," Cecilia said, a wry smile twisting her lips. "I heard it last evening during an exceedingly boring musicale given by Lady Amblethorp."
"Almost all Societywas there," added Lady Meriton, "though why I don't know. Lady Amblethorp is an indifferent hostess. For some curious reason, last night, there was a lack of society entertainments on the calendar to choose from."
"Everyone who is anyone was at the Amblethorp musicale," Cecilia said drily.
"Yes, and the spate of entertainments Julia Amblethorp has offered this season stem solely from desperation. She's afraid the season will end with Janine unbetrothed. This is the poor child's second season."
Cecilia smiled and shook her head. "Be careful you do not write off Janine so easily. I see rebellion brewing in that quiet little mouse." Her eyes sparkled at a private vision of the future. "But we digress. Mr. Thornbridge's question should not be where did I heard the phrase, but on the lips of whom."
"You identified the speaker?"
Cecilia sighed, nodded, and looked away for a moment. "It was Randolph Haukstrom," she said when she turned back to face their guest.
"Your brother?" Incredulity cracked his voice.
"Now you understand why my mind has been tied in knots. At first, it did not seem probable or even conceivable. Further reflection allows me to think it is possible." She looked down at her clenched hands. She took a deep breath and slowly uncurled her fingers one at a time until they lay flat in her lap.
"My father, Baron Lionel Haukstrom, is a gamester." Each word was drawn out then bitten off sharply like it was some foul-tasting food. "By the time I was twelve, he'd run through his inheritance. He would have run through mother's portion as well if grandfather hadn't had the wherewithal to place a clause in my parent's marriage contract that withheld direct control of the principal from my father."
"My brother was always bitter about the family's financial straits. It prevented him from cutting a swath through Society, you see. For several years he planned and schemed at ways to reverse the family fortunes. Then he heard of an unmarried wealthy merchant who was looking for a wife. Randolph contrived to meet this merchant and put the idea in his head that he needed more than a wife. He needed anaristocraticwife. Me."
Cecilia rose and paced the room. "I was sixteen at the time and still a resident at a Bath seminary for young ladies. My grandfather paid for my education and invited me to Oastley Hall for the holidays as a way to ensure I didnotbecome soiled by my father's and brother's machinations. Unfortunately, he was not successful."
Her voice rose in shrillness at the memories. "To make a long story short, Mr. Waddley bought me—" She broke off and turned away to compose herself
"Egad," murmured Mr. Thornbridge.
Cecilia took a deep breath and began again, her voice low but steady. "There really can be no other term for it. Father fetched me from school, informed me of my good fortune, and took me to a small church where my brother and Mr. Waddley awaited."
"I would not have thought Mr. Waddley to behave in such a ramshackle manner."
Cecilia smiled ruefully. "I should add that father had the forethought to provide me with a veil. Mr. Waddley's first look at me did not occur until after our vows were exchanged. Randolph led him to believe I was older and a teacher at the school, reduced to those circumstances by our poverty and—though the granddaughter of a duke—unlikely to enjoy a respectable marriage. Moved by my supposed plight, Mr. Waddley offered marriage."
Mr. Thornbridge nodded in understanding. "That I readily believe."
She laughed, her dark blue eyes sparkling. "Knowing my husband, Mr. Thornbridge, can you imagine his reaction when he discovered he'd been gulled?"
"He would have been furious."
"He was." Cecilia sat down on the sofa again, some of the tenseness leaving her body. "But his fury was not directed at how he'd been fooled. He was furious at the use my father and brother made of me. Being a man who's word was his bond, he honored the contract he made with my father. Afterward, he made certain they understood that our marriage did not give them license to run tame with his fortune. He would see to it that London tradesmen did not issue them credit backed by his wealth."
Mr. Thornbridge's eyes gleamed. "I can well imagine! Did your family think your marriage would be acarte blancheto his pocketbook?"
"Oh, yes! Particularly Randolph. It is my belief he felt we should continue to thank him remuneratively for arranging our marriage. In his mind, he was not responsible for decimating the Haukstrom fortune; therefore, he should not be penalized. The irony is that he would have run through the money in half the time it took father."
