He supposed he could pay her way back to civilization. He hated to have her further indebted to him. But he couldn’t drive off and leave her here. No gentleman would do such a thing—even to a woman of questionable character.
“And how did your venture turn out?” Peregrin took a sip of his coffee and waited for his sister to continue.
She grimaced. “I sank all I had into it. All I could lay hands on without arousing Randolph’s suspicion, that is. If he ever learned that I’d gone ahead without his knowledge…” She shook her head. Perhaps it was best not to give her brother the details. Peregrin would probably not scruple to hire thugs to get in the way of someone he didn’t like, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d done just that. “Anyway, nothing came of it, and I used up all my year’s income as well as a bit I’d tucked away, and loans from several friends.”
“I seem to remember you touching me for some cash about that time.”
“Yes, well…I’m afraid I wasn’t forthcoming in my reason for needing it.”
“You told me you’d lost heavily at cards, and you didn’t want Randolph to know.”
Merrileigh waved her hand in dismissal. “I paid you back eventually, and all the rest, but I went without the least luxuries for months on end.”
“I know what that’s like,” Peregrin said. “Seems like I’m never flush more than a week after I get my quarter’s allowance.”
“That’s because you keep gambling when your luck runs black. You just don’t know when to hold off on betting.”
Her brother smiled impishly at her and ran a hand through his hair, which disarranged his golden locks even more, putting her in remembrance of the footman who’d let her in. Did none of these young men care about their appearance anymore?
“Still, if I hadn’t given you a round sum back then, I could have covered most everything in ‘55, and I surely would have come even last year. Here I am still out five hundred pounds.”
“Good heavens.” Merrileigh winced, knowing she had little chance of convincing her brother to risk more of his income. Her own annual pittance, which her grandmother had left her, was spent during the first three months of the year to pay off her dressmaker for last year’s expenditures and for food and wine served at two dinner parties which she absolutely had to host to avoid letting herself and Randolph look like cheap hangers-on. Oh, and two new dresses and a few trifles her husband would doubtless refer to as “fripperies.” But they were necessary, every one. A lady couldn’t appear at an assembly wearing last year’s gown, or take a promenade in Hyde Park sporting an outdated chapeau. It simply wasn’t done.
“Does that crestfallen demeanor tell me that you’d hoped I could stand you another sum so that you could try to—oh, I don’t know. What is it you think you can do about all this, Merry? Do you hope to hinder David from coming home and laying claim to the title?”
“Well…would that be so unreasonable?”
Peregrin laughed. “Not to my way of thinking. Why, if I had one half-wild cousin blocking me from a huge fortune, I’d—well, never mind what I’d do. But I think it’s safe to say you must be careful to whom you present this idea.”
“I’m well aware of that.” She scowled. “It was such a blow when I learned my first attempt had failed.”
He straightened and eyed her with new realization. “Don’t tell me you hired someone to go over there and—”
She smiled sheepishly. “Perhaps you also recall me asking if you had any contacts in America. Specifically in New York.”
“Why, yes. I thought it odd at the time. I suppose I thought maybe you would pass a name on to Anne if she wanted to hire a private detective.”
“Not Anne. Me. I sent word ahead—by a ship that sailed just days before Anne’s.” Merrileigh laughed. “She didn’t tell us her plans. We wouldn’t have known if Conrad hadn’t told my husband. He was awfully embarrassed about it—said he shouldn’t have let it slip. But I seized the opportunity and set someone up to watch her and see if he could find David before Anne did.”
Peregrin shook his head. “I’m speechless. You ought to have told me, Merry. I could at least have helped you set things up.”
“You’re right, I should have. I’m sure now that he bilked me out of far more than his services were worth. But toward the end—ah, toward the end, I was so excited. It was all I could do not to tell Randolph. I’d had word from the fellow I hired. He was close, he said. It was to be over within a matter of days. And then the next thing I know…” She sighed. “It was all for naught, and we heard from Anne that David was safe.”
“That’s bad luck.”
“Yes. I haven’t had the heart or the means to try again, but now it’s becoming urgent. In David’s latest letter, he told the solicitors he planned to leave Oregon this spring—a month ago, in fact, as soon as the mountain roads were open.”
“What, he’s going it overland?”
“Apparently. He could be nearly to New York by now.”
“Surely not.”
“That is my hope, that it will take him much longer than it took the ship that brought us the news. But when Conrad’s man came around to see Randolph the other day, he said we could look for David by fall.”
“And you still don’t feel you can bring Randolph around to where he’ll commiserate and try to do something?”
Merrileigh shook her head. “I brought it up once, way back before Anne left, and he was scandalized at the thought. I daren’t suggest that we might have the power to change things.”
“Haven’t we, though?” Peregrin met her gaze with anxious blue eyes.
Merrileigh smiled. She had not misjudged her brother. His wit might be even keener than she’d thought. “I should have put it all before you the first time.”
“Yes. Perhaps we could have worked together to a happy outcome. But you have to understand, Merry. I haven’t any money I could lend you now—none.”
“What about your friends?”
“Heavens, no. I can’t ask them for anything right now.”
She sighed. “I wonder if I could borrow enough to send someone to New York.”
“Have you any jewelry—”
Merrileigh gritted her teeth and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Nothing that would bring enough.” Again, it was probably best not to tell everything she knew.
“Well, maybe you could go around to the solicitor and see if they’ve heard any more from David.”
“That might help,” she said. “Though I think we need to have someone on the spot. I mean, if we wait until he sets foot in England, the danger would be much increased.”
“Yes. It would be better to send someone over there—someone you trust. You know David’s sailing from New York?”
“I believe so. Perhaps Mr. Conrad’s office can say for sure.” Merrileigh rose. “Thank you, Perry. Talking to you has been a great comfort, even if you can’t help me in other ways. I needn’t remind you to keep this to yourself.”
“Of course. I hope you find someone to help you—and the means to underwrite the venture. And be assured I’ll support you in anyway I can.”
She had no doubt of that—after all, this venture was in Peregrin’s best interest, too. If his sister rose in fortunes, he would go up a notch in society’s stock. Of course, he’d probably come around more often for help with his debts, but Merrileigh wouldn’t let that bother her if he helped her and Randolph get discreetly into the position of largesse.
He saw her to the door. She had forgotten all about the hackney until she saw it sitting there in the street.
“Oh dear, I didn’t expect to be so long….”
“Now, that I can cover.” Peregrin hurried away for a minute and returned with a few coins in his hand. “There you go, Merry. I wish I could invest in your adventure, but this will have to do.”
CHAPTER 10
Millie sat as long as she felt comfortable in the dining room, lingering over a second cup of coffee and a slice of
cake that the owner said came with the meal. When men began to come in and line up at the bar for drinks, she felt their eyes on her and decided it was time to leave.
She thought about asking for the piece of cake David didn’t eat but gave up on it when a trooper came to her table and said, “Share a drink with me, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” She scurried out into the sunshine and walked toward the parade ground.
What would she do if David wouldn’t help her? She’d never felt so powerless. She didn’t even have a horse. If she stole one from the military enclave, no doubt she’d be tracked down and hanged.
Why hadn’t Polly and Jeremiah settled in a nice, quiet town? Most places she could find work. She’d offered her cooking skills at the tavern, but the owner wasn’t interested in a cook. He wanted saloon girls, and Millie was determined not to sink to that level.
She could go back to her old ways of stealing, but where would that land her? The only alternative she could think of was to marry one of the cavalrymen—which would take time and would likely lead to a miserable existence. Or she could wait for a wagon train to come through and see if she could attach herself to it. She didn’t want to go westward again though, and nobody was apt to take her along when she couldn’t pay for her own supplies.
Tears flooded her eyes, and she wiped them impatiently with her sleeve. God, I’ve begged You to help me find a way to support myself. You’re supposed to be with me. Why do I feel so alone?
She smiled wryly. At least now she’d have a chance to return David’s handkerchief. She’d washed it several times after soaking it with her tears—tears for Sam, for Polly and Jeremiah, and for remorse over the past. If she were honest, she had also shed tears for David and what might have been.
He came around the corner of the men’s barracks thirty yards away. Should she approach him? She stood still, gazing at him. He cut such a dashing figure, even after weeks of rough travel. His carriage did that, she supposed, even more than the well-cut clothing. But now she was more interested in his mindset.
Lord, You say in the Bible You’ll help Your children. I need that help now.
How could she bear it if David rejected her pleas and left the fort without giving his aid?
He looked up and saw her. His steps faltered for an instant, then he came on. Millie inhaled and raised her chin. She had always prided herself in being able to command a serene expression in any circumstances, but now she didn’t know how to compose her face. The grieving sister? The gracious fellow traveler? The desperate pilgrim?
Without thinking about it, she mirrored David’s countenance—brows lowered, lips slightly parted, eyes somber.
Dear Lord, she prayed, please soften his heart so he can help me this once.
He walked across the open parade ground and stopped a yard from her. Millie waited for him to speak.
“I am sorry about your cousin.”
“Thank you.” She clenched her teeth, determined not to cry. Even if he refused to help her, she would not let him see her weep again.
“And you feel that if you got to Philadelphia you could find proper employment?”
“I’m sure of it. There are many opportunities there, and I do have skills.” She couldn’t stop herself from taking a step toward him. “Mr. Stone, if you help me, I promise to repay—”
“Please.” He held up a hand, and his expression told her she’d crossed the line with him. David had enjoyed her company when he could think of her as a genteel lady. When she sank to the level of an impoverished widow begging for aid, his whole attitude toward her had changed. “I shall not expect any repayment. Just…get to where you can establish yourself in a respectable manner.” He took some money from his pocket. “Here is ten dollars. I shall purchase your tickets, but I would appreciate it if you use this to buy your own meals and necessities. If you need more, tell me.”
“Oh, sir.” The tears spilled over, to Millie’s dismay, but these were tears of relief. Even though he didn’t want to be seen paying for her meals—he probably would rather she didn’t acknowledge him at all when other travelers were about—she would be grateful to him for the rest of her life. God had used him to answer her pleas, and the Almighty, at least, would not be embarrassed when she expressed her gratitude.
Her cheeks flushed as she accepted the money. “Thank you. I shall endeavor not to embarrass you on this journey.” That seemed paramount to sustaining their relationship for the next thousand miles.
He nodded. “I shall arrange the tickets. Be at the stage stop in the morning.”
The hack pulled up in Chancery Lane, one of London’s stodgiest business streets. Merrileigh gathered her skirts in preparation to climb out. It wouldn’t do to trip over her wide crinoline and fall on her face. The footman opened the door and held out a hand to steady her. She stepped down without mishap and eyed the discreet sign beside the modest, half-timbered building: JONATHAN CONRAD, ESQ.
Conrad’s firm had been the Stone family’s solicitors forever, so far as Merrileigh knew. Probably since the first earl. She had never had occasion to visit them personally before today.
She hesitated. It was risky. She mustn’t spill any of her intent. But still, if she hoped for any sort of a chance for Randolph to become the new earl, she needed information. Already her mind raced ahead to what she would do with that knowledge. She would need an emissary. Perhaps she could ask Peregrin to find a man she could trust among his acquaintances. But could she have confidence in one of his friends? Letting too many people in on the plan was dangerous. No more blunders! She squared her shoulders and walked to the door.
In the office, a clerk took her calling card and bade her sit in the antechamber while Mr. Iverson finished with another client. A moment later, a door to an inner room opened, and a gray-haired gentleman with luxuriant whiskers emerged. He turned and spoke to the man behind him.
“Pastiche. That’s the one you want to back on Saturday.”
Iverson, the junior partner, appeared in the doorway, and over the older man’s shoulder, Merrileigh glimpsed his regretful smile.
“I’m not a gambling man, sir, but I wish you well.”
“Ha! You’ll wish you were. Pastiche. He’s the horse to be beat, I’m telling you. You won’t get a better bit of advice than that.”
Iverson continued to smile as the gentleman limped toward the outer door, but shook his head. The clerk, meanwhile, had risen and handed Mr. Iverson Merrileigh’s card and then hurried to open the door for the departing client.
Iverson stood for a moment, fingering the cream-colored card. It ought to impart to him Merrileigh’s station in life, imprinted as it was with a nosegay of geraniums and white violets, signifying gentility and modesty. After a moment, he looked up and smiled uncertainly.
“Mrs. Randolph Stone. How do you do, ma’am?”
Merrileigh rose and gave him a slight curtsey. “I do fine, sir.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Conrad is not in the office today. He only comes in two days a week now. Perhaps you would like to come back on Monday.”
“On the contrary,” she said, looking him up and down, “it is you I wish to see, Mr. Iverson.”
“Ah. Then come through, please.” He stepped aside to let her pass and said to the clerk, “Tea in my chamber.”
The inner office had only one window, rendering it quite dark. Iverson’s desk was positioned before it, no doubt so that he had the advantage of the light while he went about his tedious duties. Shelves on two sides of the room held leather-bound books—legal tomes, she assumed—and pasteboard file boxes. No doubt the Stones’ lives and her chances of living in luxury, as opposed to threadbare gentility, lay in one of those files, gathering dust.
Iverson sat down behind the desk, eyeing her warily. “Well then, Mrs. Stone, what may I help you with?”
Merrileigh leaned forward with what she hoped was an engaging smile. “I was wondering…is there any new word from Mr. David Stone? The family is quite anxious to
welcome him home.”
“No, nothing since what I shared with your husband a few days past.”
Merrileigh smiled regretfully. “Pity. I hope to host a dinner party for him shortly after his arrival. You will give us word if you hear anything, won’t you?”
“Surely. I shall communicate anything of that sort to Mr. Stone. Your husband, that is.”
She nodded. “I suppose I’m too eager to move forward with my plans. You know, it helps the hostess to think ahead when it comes to staging a social event.”
“Of course.”
Still, she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t mention this call to Randolph on their next meeting, and that could cause some friction. Merrileigh settled back in her chair and cleared her throat. “Mr. Iverson, I’d like to be sure you understand that I am not here on behalf of my husband. In fact, Mr. Stone has no idea that I’ve come to see you.”
He gazed at her blankly. “All right.”
“Don’t misunderstand me. We’re all delighted that my husband’s cousin is coming home.”
“Yes,” Iverson said. “It will be good to have an earl in residence at Stoneford once again.”
“Yes.” Merrileigh decided to advance a bit further and see if she could determine where the man’s loyalty lay. “My husband and his cousin have always got along very well. When they were lads, that is. As you know, they’ve not seen each other for more than twenty years.”
“Yes, so Mr. Stone told me. Mr. Randolph Stone, that is.” Iverson nodded happily.
“To be sure. But you must understand, that though they are quite amiable toward each other, they are, in a sense, adversaries.”
“Adversaries?” Iverson sobered. “I’m not sure I understand you, ma’am.”
“Why, David Stone, and only David Stone, stands between my husband and the earldom. You must see that.”
The young man picked up some papers from the desktop and tapped the edges on the desk, straightening them. “I suppose, in a sense…”
A quiet knock in the door drew his attention, and Merrileigh felt his relief that the conversation had been interrupted.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 72