‘Unless, of course, you disinherit me. I seem damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Not Miss Bainbridge, not Miss Best … Who will you have me marry, dare I ask?’
Lord Kent eyed him warily over the rim of his brandy. ‘I think we are both well aware that the estate is entailed.’
‘Yes, I spoke to Ponsonby about it the moment I came of age. But the question stands.’
Lord Kent harrumphed. ‘Well, the Bainbridge girl is a better catch than I expected her to be.’
Max sat back, triumphant. ‘I’m glad you like her. It will make things all the easier when I begin to prepare her rooms in the west wing. Providing, that is, that you still take objection to me having my own house?’
His father eyed him carefully. ‘Damned waste of money.’
‘Good. Then I shall prepare them immediately.’
‘Yes. In blue. The girl looks good in blue.’ His father paused. ‘And throw her a ball, too. A big one.’
Max grinned. ‘Shall I invite Lady Best?’
His father slammed his empty glass down onto his desk. ‘Don’t push it, boy. Now leave me. And get Hammond to fetch for the family jeweller. I’ll buy her a wedding necklace. No, damn it. She deserves a full parure for marrying a scoundrel like you.’
Max set out to the Bainbridge townhouse to finalise the paperwork. If Etta persisted in being angry with him … well, he’d find a way to bring her round.
Etta sat on the edge of the docks, hugging her bag forlornly. For the first time, it all felt terribly real. Her lovely Regency adventure was finally over – and there could be no question that she was not in a dream now. The taste of bile in her throat told her, once and for all, that this was no Georgette Heyer novel. This was her life now. And she’d not even got the bloody bracelet.
Whether her subsequent dizziness was from the journey, her sudden grounding in reality, or just from the general atmosphere of the Dover docks, she would never know. The whole area was absolutely packed with people, loading and unloading ships big and small.
The hustle and bustle was overwhelming. She drew hercloak around her tightly as she found herself being ogled by any number of disgusting-smelling sailors who seemed determined to whistle and catcall any woman nearby.
When she wasn’t pushing past rough, malodorous men trying to cop a feel, she was being glared at by sex workers who clearly felt she was potential competition.
A sign pointed her to a small ticket office, fronted by a sniffling, stern-looking man.
‘How can I help you, miss? A servant, I suppose. Hope you’re not here for a ticket for your mistress. We’re sold out.’
Etta’s heart fell through her chest. ‘To Calais?’
‘That’s right. Nowt for a se’ennight, miss.’
‘But can’t you make an exception? My – my mistress is terribly important.’
The man snorted derisively. ‘Aye, and that’ll be why she sent a little slip of a girl like you and not a manservant. Off you go.’
‘But—’
‘No ticket, no crossing. I can book you a place for a week on Tuesday, or nothing at all.’
A week? She had plenty of cash, but almost certainly not enough to put herself up in a strange city for a week.
Etta clutched her bag to her chest as she looked for a way out of the crowd, forcing her way past a mass of people boarding the ship she’d just been denied entrance to and dodging a large crate being hauled aboard.
She took one last look at the boat, already packed with passengers, then walked some way through the streets of Dover. She could feel the rounded cobbles pressing painfully through her boots and decided to keep going until she found somewhere to sit and think – it was already so late, the sun beginning to disappear behind the low rooftops.
Thankfully she soon came across a small church, its doors unlocked, and gratefully crept in to sit in a pew at the back.
The vicar was nowhere to be seen, so Etta slumped in her pew, tipped her head back and took a long breath, grateful to be alone.
She rested her chin on her fingertips and decided to do a brief audit of her belongings before she went to look for something to eat. Opening her bag, she rifled for her purse that she’d stuffed deep inside.
Of course, she couldn’t find it.
