“Youhave always been fond of her.”
He laughed. “That’s hardly a secret. She’s my oldest friend.”
But Nell went on. “Mother said several times it was a pity she moved away when she did, at sixteen and you nineteen. If she’d still been there another year or two, and you twenty-one…”
Jack laughed without humour and reached for the brandy again, pouring a light splash into his glass. “And if I’d offered for poor penniless Min back then, you’d have all been up in arms—just as you were only the other day when Nora made up her ridiculous story. Now you catch a whiff of money and you’resuddenly wishing us happy! Shame on you, Nell. Could you at least try not to be so disgustingly transparent?”
Nell sniffed in annoyance but held her ground. “You cannot deny that you like her, though. You always have done. It was always Lucy you chose to spend time with.”
“You’re surprised I preferred her company to suchsweet, darlingsisters? You and Nora did nothing but screech and complain.”
“Because we didn’t like having frogs in our water jugs! Or being told to jump rivers that were too wide! Or hold your pony for hours while you climbed trees for nests, or tried to wheedle cider from the farmer’s wife, or tobacco from the waggoner, or whatever terrible boyish prank was in your head to do.”
Jack just chuckled. “She screeched about the frog alright. And Ididmean that for you, Nell. It was a pity Min happened to find it.”
“You whittled things for her!” Nell announced suddenly in triumph.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’d spend hours whittling little gifts for her from scraps of wood. Dolls and animals and boats. You taught her to fish! And if she ever wanted to go into the village, you’d always drive her yourself, even though old Marsh would’ve done it in the donkey gig.”
Jack pulled a face at the thought of Min being stuck behind a donkey with no one but a gnarly old groom to escort her.
“If I was eager for any chance to go into the village, it was probably only to buy things I shouldn’t. Or get a glimpse of that barmaid. Ah, Sarah Linton,” he sighed in dreamy reflection. The voluptuous little blonde had been responsible for the sexual awakening of every young man in a ten-mile radius.
Nell scoffed. Jack set down his glass and adopted a more serious expression. “Look, dear sister. I’d as lief marry George as Min. So you may as well put that out of your head.”
“But don’t you think we ought to get her away from the Sedgewicks? We could say the doctor made a mistake, that Nora has recovered. Invite Lucy back to my house where I can keep a proper watch over her and guard her from any fortune hunters that might throw themselves in her way. You yourself cautioned me just how green she is. Like a lamb, you said! And she was invited to London under our family’s protection. Imagine the scandal if—”
“I will guard her myself,” Jack interrupted firmly, certain Min had no wish to return to Nell’s house. After seeing her in her element last night, he could hardly blame her. “Even if there’s no truth in this rumour, the damage is done. It’s enough that peoplebelieveshe’s heiress to that old nabob’s hoard. Because you’re right about one thing, Nell. She’s now a target for every fortune hunter in London. But leave her to me. I’ll watch over Min. Just as I always have done.”
To his surprise, his sister made no further protest but took her leave seeming strangely satisfied.
Thirteen
The morning after thedinner party, Lucy and Miss Sedgewick were preparing to leave the house when two gentlemen callers of Miss Sedgewick’s acquaintance arrived. Lucy, happening to glance at Miss Sedgewick when their names were announced, caught a flash of surprise, but Miss Sedgewick welcomed the young men with her usual bright and laughing manners, inviting them to sit down in the parlour.
“We met young Cotton last night in the Cocoa Tree,” one of them teased, settling into an armchair. He’d been announced as Lord Kiethly. “And he said he’d just dined with you. I exchanged a look with Warde here, and of course we both had the very same question: where wasourinvitation, Miss Sedgewick? What have we possibly done to deserve your neglect?”
“Oh, this is very unjust,” Miss Sedgewick replied with a laugh, “when I’m the only victim of neglect here. You’ve not forgotten that you promised to attend my last card party, only to then find the lure of Newmarket more tempting?”
“Yes, butNewmarket,” Lord Kiethly defended himself, laughing. “And I came away a winner. Which I dare say I wouldn’t if I’d sat down to a rubber with you.”
Miss Sedgewick only smiled. The man turned his attention to where the other man’s was already to be found—on Lucy, where she sat quietly at Miss Sedgewick’s side on the small settee. Almost since entering the room, Mr Warde had been staring at her in a quite disconcerting way. She’d met him once before, at Almack’s, where he hadn’t looked at her twice.
“And this time the case isn’t at all the same,” Mr Warde said. “Thistime you have a lure beyond the call of both cards and horses. A new, and very charming, acquaintance.” He’d addressed the first part of that to Miss Sedgewick, but on the last words, he returned his gaze to Lucy, along with a gleaming smile.
If Miss Sedgewick’s own smile flickered, it was only for a moment, and Lucy supposed she was the only one who saw it. Both men were now smiling at her in that disconcerting way, and she glanced at her friend the way a hunted hare dashes for the culvert.
Why did they stare? Was London really so desperate for novelty that her offensive freckles now drew men to Miss Sedgewick’s door? They ought to charge admittance like they did for that strange African creature by the Tower. She nearly laughed aloud at the idea and hid her smile in an examination of her gloves—both she and Miss Sedgewick were already dressed for their walk.
“But you see,” Miss Sedgewick said, “I’ve only lured Miss Fanshaw here myself through the promise of artists. That is why Mr Cotton was here last night, and Mr Thornton, Mrs Moller, and Miss Villars. You would’ve spoken of nothing but turf and sport and driven my friend away.”
Both men laughed, and Mr Warde said, “Ah, but this excellent information. Now we know how we must approach you, Miss Fanshaw. Come,” he said, gesturing at his friend to rise. “We cannot stay, for it’s clear you ladies were about to step out of the door, and we now know where to direct our next steps. To the museum,” he turned to his friend, a smile in his voice. “To dust off our knowledge of old masters and perspective.”
With a few moments more of similar raillery and a promise to get a party together for a visit to the exhibition at Somerset House, they, at last, took their leave.
Miss Sedgewick made no comment on their visitors until later, when the ladies themselves departed the house. Reaching the street, she took Lucy’s arm and tucked it under hers. “I promised to make you a sensation, did I not? It seems we meet with early success.”
