The Fortune Hunter

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  A smile tilted her lips. Philip had told her Hamilton was due back in Bath tomorrow. Although she did not know when he might call, she hoped it would be soon. No week had ever passed more slowly than this one.

  She paused at the corner of Grove Street to look in the window of a bookstore. So frequently, she had stood here with Cole as they pointed out the books they wished they could read. Cole always selected technical books while she had been partial to Miss Austen’s stories and Walter Scott’s romantic tales. They seldom purchased anything, for books were a luxury they could scarcely afford.

  A drop of rain bounced off her bonnet, and Nerissa knew she could not afford to dally. She went to the curb to cross the street. Looking both ways, she saw the same short man, who had been coming to points with the teamster. He seemed in no hurry. When he saw her looking at him, he stopped and looked in the window of another shop.

  Nerissa wove her way through the maze of traffic, and hurried along the walkway. In spite of herself, she looked over her shoulder to see the short man negotiating his way past the carriages and wagons in the street.

  When the man crossed the center of Laura Place as she did, Nerissa clutched her bag tighter. He could not be following her. It must be no more than a coincidence. This was a busy street, after all. She looked back and discovered he was closing the distance between them.

  Her heart thumped wildly in her ears. Wanting to run, wanting to scream, she did neither. She continued to walk quickly, smiling with relief when she saw the steps to her house.

  As she put her hand on the rail, her right arm was grasped. She tried to pull away, but was whirled to face a squat man. His hair fell forward into his narrow eyes, which were regarding her with a lasciviousness that wrenched her stomach.

  “Take your hands off me!”

  “I be needin’ to speak with ye.”

  “I am sorry,” she said primly. “I do not know you, and I do not speak with strangers.”

  He stepped in front of her, still holding her arm. Hooking a thumb toward the front door, he asked, “Do ye live ’ere?”

  She considered lying, but she wanted nothing more at the moment than to get inside the house and close out this horrible man. “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “That, sir, is none of your bread and butter.” She tried to pull away. When his dirty, cracked nails dug into her arm, she gasped. “You are hurting me.”

  “I’ll be doin’ more if ye don’t answer me.”

  Nerissa choked as he thrust his face closer. The scent of cheap gin sickened her. Trying to lean away, she choked back a scream as he abruptly released her, and she fell onto the bottom step.

  A tall form stepped between her and the odious man. She released her ragged breath as she looked up at Terry, the house’s lone footman. In his hand, he held one of the walking sticks which Cole had inherited from his father, but had never used. As he glowered at the shorter man, he put a hand under her elbow to assist her gently to her feet.

  “Begone from here,” Nerissa said in a shaky voice.

  The short man did not move as he growled, “I know yer ’idin’ something, and I’ll be findin’ out what ’tis. Then ye’ll be sorry, ye didn’t answer m’ questions.”

  Terry’s deep voice rumbled through the increasing rain. “Begone she said.” He emphasized his words with a tap of the walking stick against the iron railing.

  The man stamped away, grumbling under his breath.

  “Are you all right, Miss Dufresne?” the young man asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered. She let him take her hand and help her into the house. How fortunate for her that Hadfield was in London with Cole! He would have offered her no help and would have enjoyed watching her try to edge past that boorish man.

  “What did he want?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked back at the closed door. The man had been insistent that she had some information that he wanted.

  “Probably all at sea with too much drink.”

  “I hope you are right,” she answered, but she continued to look over her shoulder at the front door as she climbed the stairs.

  Annis had to be calmed from a bout of hysteria when she learned what had happened in front of the house. Giving her a bottle of sal volatile to keep her from swooning, Nerissa insisted that her friend sit and sip on a cup of chamomile tea to soothe herself.

  Philip watched in uncomfortable silence. His hands were clasped behind the back of his brown coat, and his ruddy brows were wrinkled in concentration. When Nerissa handed him a cup of tea, he perched on the very edge of a chair and said, “Mayhap you should move elsewhere.”

  “Where?” Nerissa asked. “This is my home.” Sorrow twinged through her as she wished she could return to the idyllic setting of Hill’s End, but it was impossible.

  “There is a room on Queen Square,” he said slowly.

  She patted his hand, then rose. Her disquiet refused to allow her to sit for more than a single heartbeat. “You are generous to offer, Philip, but you know that is impossible.”

  “You should come home with me,” Annis suggested. “You know Mama wishes we were living at Camden Crescent instead of here.”

  Nerissa shook her head. She preferred the risk of remaining in her home than suffering the edge of Mrs. Ehrlich’s tongue until her brother returned from London. “Cole should be home soon. I simply will be careful until he returns.”

  “I wish Hamilton was here.” A tic accented the tension in Philip’s jaw. “He would give that lurcher a few handy blows to teach him not to bother you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Are you certain of that?”

  She sighed and tried to give Philip a smile. He was a gentle soul, so gentle she could not envision him wearing a soldier’s toggery. “I hope so,” she said with every bit of sincerity she could muster.

  When, the next morning, Mrs. Carroll announced at the door of the sitting room that Mr. Crimmins would like to speak with Miss Dufresne at her convenience, Nerissa was astonished. The solicitor rarely bestirred himself to go beyond his office.

  She wondered what bad tidings the solicitor had to inflict upon her now, but kept her apprehension from her face. “Bring him up. I shall talk to him here.”

  “What do you think that stodgy paper-skull wants?” Annis asked as the housekeeper hurried away.

  “I have no idea.”

  “He should wait until your brother returns to bother you with any work.”

  Nerissa smiled. The idea of Cole handling the household’s affairs more competently than she could was ludicrous. “I am accustomed to dealing with Mr. Crimmins.”

  “You do too much.” Gathering her needlework, she grimaced. “I shall leave you to this boredom. Let me know when he has left, and we can enjoy a walk before we get ready to go to the Assembly Rooms this evening. I do hope Hamilton is back in Bath in time to join us.”

  “I hope so, too.” When Annis laughed at her fervor, Nerissa could not help smiling. It was impossible to hide the truth that she was anxious to see Hamilton, to smooth over the differences between them, to welcome his lips on hers.

  Nerissa’s smile lasted until the pompous lawyer bustled into the room moments after Annis had taken her leave. His flamboyantly red waistcoat did not fit with his otherwise somber appearance. Nerissa might have been amused if she had not been so apprehensive about what had drawn him out of his office to call upon her.

  “I bring you good news, Miss Dufresne,” he said after his unusually effusive greeting. Leaning forward from where he was sitting on the light blue settee, he smiled. “An offer, a very generous offer, if I may be so candid, for Hill’s End has been tendered to my office.”

  “Someone wishes to buy my father’s estate?”

  “Your estate. You must be pleased.”

  “I am speechless,” she said, wondering if he could suspect how true the hackneyed words were. Until the moment he had spoken of a buyer for Hill’s End, she had thought he was coming
to harangue her for letting Cole go to London.

  She looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. Her knuckles were bleached as she realized she was about to lose the only home she had known until she came to live with Cole. Strangers would be sitting in the small parlor where her mother had read to her on afternoons, while rain meandered along the uneven, hand-blown glass. Other children would be sleeping in her room, high beneath the front gable. Another family would play ball on the wide expanse of the lawns. A shiver coursed along her back as she realized that the very spot where Hamilton had kissed her on their outing would belong to those strangers. She was losing all she had.

  Preoccupied with his own exhilaration over the tidings, Mr. Crimmins mistakenly believed that she was as thrilled. “With your permission, I shall begin the drawing up of the papers for the sale, Miss Dufresne. I shall do it posthaste. If there are no complications—and I fear that there usually are a few in these circumstances—you shall soon find your reticule full of blunt. This should change your financial situation.”

  “Yes,” she said faintly. Shaking herself mentally, she repeated, “Yes, Mr. Crimmins. That will be wonderful. I know that Cole and I shall appreciate having more than a farthing between us.”

  “May I speak with your stepbrother? There are a few details I wish to acquaint him with.”

  “Cole is in London.”

  “How …?”

  “Mr. Crimmins,” she said primly, irritated by his presumption that she could not understand the procedures for selling Hill’s End, “you need concern yourself only with the dispersing of our household quarterly allowance. It is my decision how it will be spent once you have given it to us.”

  “He went to Town to find backers for those lucubrations of his? Miss Dufresne, I implore you to recall him to Bath immediately. Such canal projects have been tried in the past with little success.”

  Nerissa wondered where the solicitor had attained his information on their household. If Hadfield had not left with Cole, she would have accused the butler of spreading tales. There most be another rat squeaking belowstairs. She would set Mrs. Carroll to routing it out as quickly as possible.

  “Cole should be returning before month’s end,” she said in the same formal tone. “I see no reason to curtail his time in London. Although you clearly think otherwise, Mr. Crimmins, Cole’s plan has much merit.”

  “I would caution you not to invest what you might obtain from the sale of Hill’s End into that flat move. You will lose everything.”

  His acrimonious tone amazed her, but she refused to come to points with him. He might think that Cole had been born under a three-penny halfpenny planet, but she had to believe that her stepbrother would prove to everyone that he had not wasted his life on this dream.

  A dream … her unavailing dreams that something would happen to save her home from the block had betrayed her. Hill’s End soon would belong to someone else, and her last connection with what had been would be severed.

  Standing when he did, she bid him a good afternoon. She watched him walk out the door, then she closed the door. Twisting the lock, she sank into her chair and wept for all she would lose when she signed the papers for Hill’s End.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nerissa’s fingers were all in a tremble in her evening gloves as she brushed them against the eau de Nile crêpe of her gown. The low, square neckline was edged by gold cord to match that on the short sleeves. The skirt was unadorned, but revealed the embroidery on the hem of her petticoat. A demi-train of the same crêpe trailed her down the stairs.

  Her smile strained her lips which wanted to quiver as rapidly as her fingers. Tonight—when she should have been thrilled at the chance to see Hamilton again—she had to fight to keep from crying. Although she had known the sale of Hill’s End would come about eventually, she still had been unprepared for it.

  When she saw only Philip and Annis in the foyer, her smile faltered. Her thoughts must have been clear on her face, because, after exchanging an anxious glance with Annis, Philip hurried forward to greet her.

  “Hamilton would want me to express his regrets that he has not returned from London in time for this gathering, Nerissa, but you will still come with us, won’t you?” Philip smiled, but his expression seemed in danger of falling into sorrow. Holding his beaver in his hands, he worried the brim with anxious fingers. “I left a message for Hamilton to join us upon his arrival in Bath.”

  Annis, who was wearing the lovely new hat that had been a gift from an abashed Philip, hurried to say, “Do say yes. You promised me that you would join us tonight when you did not last week. If you do not come with us to the Upper Rooms, I could not bear it. You have not stepped foot out of this house this week to do anything but run errands and post a letter to Cole. Think of the fun we shall have.

  “Yes, we shall have a grand time,” Philip seconded.

  Nerissa held up her hands in mock defeat, because she could not contest her friends who thought only of her happiness. “I shall come along as your watchdog.”

  “Nay,” he retorted as he bowed in her direction. “Not as Annis’s duenna, but as my guest as well. I shall be the envy of every man there when I appear with two lovely ladies on my arms.”

  During the short trip over the Pulteney Bridge and north into the Upper Town, Philip seemed determined to lure Nerissa out of the dismals. To own the truth, she could not think of a single reason why she should not enjoy the evening. He reassured her again and again that Hamilton would rush to the Upper Rooms as soon as he arrived at Queen Square.

  “He must surely be eager to see you, Nerissa, especially,” he added with a grimace, “after having to endure her company for the trip to Town.”

  “You could speak her name,” Annis said, chuckling. “It will not taint you forever.”

  “You cannot know Elinor Howe well if you say that.”

  “I have no wish to know her better.”

  Nerissa silently concurred with her bosom bow. She was glad Mrs. Howe was on the far side of England, where her nasty words could not hurt them.

  When the carriage turned onto Alfred Street and into the carriage entrance to the Upper Rooms, she looked out with interest. So seldom did she come to this part of this city, and she enjoyed the elegance of the buildings which had been built the previous century under the guidance of Mr. Nash. The carriage slowed in front of the elegant overhang that broke the classically designed facade with its three stories of windows marching in perfect precision across it.

  The first, furtive raindrops struck the walkway as they hurried into the anteroom. The octagonal room was crowded with those who had come to enjoy the music and dancing in the ballroom, although a few people were drifting toward the eight-sided card room at the opposite end of the antechamber. Sweet scents drifted through the room as the women moved their fans in a silent dance that sent perfume wafting.

  Following Philip and Annis toward the ballroom to the left, Nerissa tried to hide her amazement. She had never entered the huge room, which she guessed was more than one hundred feet in length. Portraits covered the walls beneath the rows of Corinthian columns reaching to a soffit still more than ten feet below the coved ceiling. As precisely designed as the exterior, the ballroom’s glory focused on five elegant, glass chandeliers lit with hundreds of candles.

  Chairs lined the walls, but few people sat. Instead they milled, going from conversation to conversation, seeking the latest news from Bath and beyond. Music came from the galley set high in one long wall. As Nerissa was drawn into the room, she discovered why the women had been rocking their fans in front of their faces. Although the autumnal evening was as warm as the heart of the summer, fires burned on all seven hearths.

  While Annis danced a country reel with Philip, Nerissa found herself the center of conversation. The people who came up to her were curious why she was at the Upper Rooms without Hamilton, and where he was, and when he would return, and … asked with a glitter of interest in their eyes … wou
ld she be escorted about Bath by the viscount again.

  She was grateful when Philip rescued her from one dowager who was more persistently inquisitive than the others.

  Nerissa put her hand on his arm and let him lead her toward the dancers. With a smile, she said, “I thought you would ask Annis for each dance this evening.”

  “Lady St. John just reminded me that there were many young ladies who might be interested in a dance.”

  “She thinks you should be interested in her eldest daughter.”

  He laughed. “Shame on you, Nerissa! You shall have me thinking that I am a rare prize when I was trying to avoid being at outs with her. I know I would have no more chance than a cat in hell without claws if I try to exchange words with that brimstone.”

  Laughing, as they paused at the end of the line of dancers, Nerissa discovered Annis was partnered by Mr. Goldsmith, her eldest sister’s husband. Nerissa had never seen either Philip or Annis so light of heart. Obviously she was not the only one to note that the tendre they shared was becoming a deeper affection if Lady St. John was concerned about letting a wealthy catch elude her eldest.

  Once she was a part of the dancing, Nerissa was swept into it again and again until tea was served. She danced once more with Philip, then was glad to watch him twirl Annis about the floor. To own the truth, her feet hurt from so much dancing. She wiggled her toes in her satin slippers and went to the chairs on one side of her room. After this dance, she would persuade Philip and Annis to pause long enough to enjoy a plate of something and some conversation with her.

  “Miss Dufresne?” At the sharp, tenor voice, she turned to see a tall man in the livery of the Upper Rooms. He was carrying a tray topped with goblets of champagne, but he did not offer her one. Instead he went on, “Miss Dufresne, I was asked to tell you that a gentleman is waiting most anxiously for you outside.”

  “In the foyer?”

  “By the carriages.”

  She regarded him in bafflement. Even Hamilton would not ask her to meet him like that, would he? She had to own she never could judge what he might do.