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Ella knew instantly what had happened. “You tried to sell it and were refused?”
“I have supported you since your improvident parents left this world. I considered it my right. But now I admit that in retrospect its withholding was useful. It presents a solution to our current complication.”
“Sell it,” Fulvia said, turning to Ella. Her eyes were shining with determination. “Sell it, and I shall repay you once I marry Lord Peregrine.”
“I applaud your spirit,” her father said, taking out a handkerchief lined in Valenciennes lace and handing it to his wife, who was shaking with silent sobs.
“I didn’t know that my mother had left me anything,” Ella said, dumbfounded.
“The solicitors will sell it for you,” her uncle said. “I shall bring you the funds—”
“No, you will not,” she interrupted. “If I am to sell my mother’s gift to support the debut of your daughter, Uncle, I shall visit the solicitors and handle the funds myself.”
“You certainly are a practical woman of business,” he said, with extreme distaste.
“Thanks to you,” she retorted.
“It’s not fair,” the viscountess said, her voice breaking, blotting her eyes. “Surely you could sell your diamond cufflinks, Husband?”
“Glass,” he said promptly. “No, if our niece wishes to play any role in polite society, she’ll have to fund the Season, including the ball. I would guess the tiara will garner two hundred sovereigns, more than enough to clothe Fulvia and her mother, with a gown or two left over for you. You may wish to reserve a few pounds for the baker, although given the state of my wife’s waistline, it would be better to avoid starchy foods.”
He rose to his feet. “I expect you will be grateful to me for giving you the opportunity to enjoy the pleasures of generosity, Niece. I shall hope to see a renewed respect in your attitude.”
He apparently read Ella’s expression.
“If not, I may well leave you at home when we go to balls,” he continued. “After all, your name does not appear on any invitation. Only my liberality would allow you to accompany us as a member of my family.”
He left before Ella could assure him that respect was the last thing she would ever feel for him.
It was at least an hour before she could return to the house. Her aunt lapsed into hysterics and finally tottered back to her bedchamber on the butler’s arm. Halfway up the lawn, she must have grown faint, because when Ella glanced in that direction, Jarvis was carrying her up the slope. Luckily, their butler had strong arms.
Rather surprisingly, Fulvia did not become hysterical.
After her initial shock, she showed little surprise at the news that her father was improvident and (to Ella’s mind) a conniving criminal. Instead, Fulvia focused on what needed to be done, showing a practical side that she’d never revealed before.
“I don’t have a dowry, do I?” Fulvia asked.
“I doubt it,” Ella admitted.
“No wonder he never allowed us to visit London or Bath, nor even go to a local assembly,” her cousin spat. “No wonder we are never invited to pay calls on the neighbors. And that explains why we’ve been sitting at home since arriving in London!”
“To be fair, your mother does not enjoy going into company.”
“I’ve long known that I had no respect for my father, but I am shocked by the depths to which he’s fallen,” Fulvia said grimly. “I may have grown up in the country, but I shall overcome it. I intend to become one of the most fashionable ladies in London. Did you see how my father curled his lip at this gown?”
“Yes,” Ella said.
“I rarely pay much attention to his comments, because he is so unkind,” her cousin said.
“I thought you didn’t notice!”
“Of course I notice. I decided long ago that I could become a downtrodden mouse like my mother, or I could pretend not to listen. I find the latter policy to be highly successful. You spend far too much energy sparring with him.”
“I shall take that under advisement,” Ella said, stunned.
“I gather two hundred sovereigns will not pay for three wardrobes and the ball?”
“I only need a gown or two.”
