He would be tall, like the man seated at the end of the table behind a newspaper. Dark-haired, with her eyes, he was turning out to be strong-willed, much to his father’s delight. Apparently it was acceptable to be strong willed if you were the heir, but not the daughter.
“I had a chat with Morris this morning, Liberty,” her father said lowering his newspaper. “You omitted a few pertinent facts about what happened that day when the carriage wheel broke and you were forced to stay at that inn.”
“What happened?” her mother demanded.
“It’s really nothing—”
“Two highwaymen attempted to pull over Liberty’s carriage, and she shot one, and Jasper the other, and the men fled. Then she fell out of the carriage, which appears to be the only truthful part of the story she told us.”
“Dear Lord,” her mother whispered.
“Nothing exciting like that ever happens to me,” Edward said.
“It seems Lord Corbyn stepped in to help you to an inn,” her father added, eyes narrowed with anger. “And stayed there with you over night to ensure your safety.”
Silence greeted those words. Liberty did not speak and simply picked up the crumpet on her plate and took a large bite. She hadn’t wanted to worry them, and so had not told them the entire truth. Liberty had hoped the staff who had accompanied her would not discuss the incident with her father. Clearly, they had.
“Tobias Corbyn?” her mother asked. “Our neighbor, and your old friend?”
“Are there other Lord Corbyns in society then?” Liberty asked.
“There is no need for that tone, daughter,” her father said.
“How terrifying for you, Liberty,” her mother added. “I’m sorryyou went through that, darling, but how lovely you and Lord Corbyn have reconnected. I never understood why you were friends one day and not the next.”
“Not one day, mother. He went away, and we grew apart,” Liberty lied. No way was the truth ever coming out.
“Lord Corbyn took you in his carriage. What did you talk about?” her mother persisted. “You must have had much to catch up on.”
“Nothing. I had just hurt my head. Besides, we have been in society together for three years.”
“But I have yet to see you speak or dance together,” her mother persisted. She was good at that. Talking at a person continuously until they broke down and told her exactly what she wanted to know.
“We should have taken you with us, even ill,” her father said.
“It could have happened if I was in your carriage too,” Liberty said, reaching over to pat the hand that was clenched around his newspaper.
He was a good man, and life in their family during the early years had been wonderful. Things changed when Liberty came to London for her first season with the expectation that her focus was now on marrying, and marrying well. The carefree life she’d once lived was over. Now she had to always dress perfectly, and must at all times behave like a lady.
Pushing her glasses up her nose, Liberty wondered who she could get to tighten them, as they had definitely loosened since that tumble she took out the carriage.
“It will not happen again,” her father said ominously. “And I will thank Lord Corbyn when I next see him.”
“Oh, there is no need—”
“There is every need. You will also not be traveling alone again, Liberty, and that is my final word on the matter.”
“I was not alone. I had three of your staff with me.”
“Yes, well, it is done, and you are safe. Now our focus this year isfinding you a husband,” her mother said.
As it was every year, but Liberty didn’t mention that.
She’d been a failure from the first society event she walked into. Her mother had refused to let her wear her eyeglasses, so she had to squint a lot, and when you coupled that with nerves it had not gone well. By the end of the first evening she’d hurled the entire contents of a glass of champagne over Miss Hamley and walked into a butler bearing a tray laden with glasses, sending him, and it, flying all over some guests. It had been an inauspicious beginning. But she was a duke’s daughter, and with time, Liberty had learned to play the society game.
She’d subdued her personality, raised her chin, and carried on.
“We are to host a ball,” her father said suddenly.
