Page 7 of A Symphony for the Earl

“Miss Rafferty, please follow my footman to my library, and I shall join you momentarily,” he requested and was vaguely surprised when she nodded and followed his servant.

He approached his distraught mother, who hovered on the side with Valentina.

“Of all the things…” she moaned. “Hansen and Miss Rafferty in that dreadful exchange on the street—and then that horrible hackney coach. I do sincerely hope Lady Wilkins wasn’t lurking in the crowd. That woman will be sure to tell everyone.”

Richard thought it better not to mention he had seen Henrietta Wilkins’s towering coiffure in the crowd outside his house.

He had stifled his initial impulse to refuse Miss Rafferty entrance and send her back to the dock to find the first ship home. But there was nothing to be done until morning when he would determine the full extent of his predicament by a visit to Falworth.

It seemed she would spend the night, at least.

“Should we have Miss Ernest bring Octavia down, Richard?” Valentina asked. “It is almost time for tea.”

“Let me speak with this Miss Rafferty first and try to shed some light on her circumstances. In the meantime, Mother, I think you should plan on an extra guest for dinner. It’s doubtful we’ll resolve this matter before I see our solicitor tomorrow.”

“Richard, that was no girl. She is quite the young woman. And a very strong-minded one. Certainly there is some mistake.” But Lady Amelia did not sound very hopeful, and neither was he.

“Perhaps.” He gently kissed her scented cheek. “Don’t worry, Mother. I shall see to it.”

“Thank you for the carriage ride today, Richard,” Valentina teased. “And for the amusing melodrama afterward. Good luck with Miss Rafferty.”

He shot her a quelling glance and left to meet with his unwelcome ward.

Chapter Three

In Which Explanations Are Offered

Richard paused outside the door to the library, drawing a resolute breath. Tact and civility might yet extricate him from this predicament.

Surely Miss Rafferty had other options. Or perhaps he could find some relation among his mother’s sprawling family where he could send her, because boarding school was certainly not an option anymore.

He entered the room and saw his visitor in front of the blazing fire, warming her hands. She had discarded the fur-trimmed cape, gloves, and the pert toque. She turned, and he cast a knowledgeable eye over her traveling dress and fashionable millinery.

The frock was an older style but of fine cut and expensive material. He glanced at her shoes, and her fine leather boots also hinted she was far from poor. If Miss Rafferty had means, then she was not entirely helpless.

Richard moved forward, and she extended a graceful hand. He bent over it politely, a bit taken aback. The gentleman always offered his hand first.

“I must apologize for my awkward arrival and the scene in front of your house. May we not start afresh? As you have guessed, I am indeed Fiona Rafferty.”

“Welcome to Merrick House, Miss Rafferty.” Her regret seemed sincere, but he chose to reserve judgment. The debacle outside was still fresh.

“What a fine house this is. Is that Hyde Park across the street? My father…” a shadow passed over her face, “…often spoke of London, but this is my first visit.”

“May I say how sorry I am to hear about your father, Miss Rafferty?” He struggled to think of something kind to add, but he had only met the man once or twice when he was very young.

She lifted her chin in a determined manner. “Oh, I believe he’ll turn up eventually. I haven’t given up hope yet. I wouldn’t put him above some wild scheme to become solvent again after our plantation failed.”

“Are you saying your father might have planned his disappearance?” he asked, stunned.

Miss Rafferty shrugged. Young ladies of the ton did not shrug—nor were they so well informed about the financials of their family.

“My athair has proved a resourceful man in the past. A miracle is not beyond hope. Your family seemed unprepared for my arrival, and I’m afraid I’ve caused you great inconvenience.”

“The letter my solicitor wrote to advise us of your circumstances was misplaced. I only discovered it this morning.”

“Good God,” she exclaimed with a musical peal of laughter. “You mean, you had no idea I was coming? What an abominable tangle.”

“I fail to see any humor in the situation.” Miss Rafferty needed to be taken in hand.