Shame washed over him. He couldn’t chastise Whitney when he’d just had a thought similar in nature. He firmly shut his eyes, praying to God everyone would leave. Silence filled the room, followed by his cousins each leaning in and pecking him on the cheek.
“Good night,” Whitney whispered.
“Sweet dreams,” Gillian followed in his other ear.
Of late, his dreams had been of nothing but Audrey and it was sweet―torturously so. As the door creaked, he whipped his eyes open and called out, “Whitney, wait.”
She turned and hurried back into the room. “Do you have something you want to share?”
He chuckled at the eager anticipation on her face. “No. I have a request.”
“Yes?”
“Can you have your modiste make an entire new wardrobe for Audrey and make sure Audrey does not know it came from me?”
Whitney nodded. “I can, but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t point out men who simply care for women don’t commission secret wardrobes.”
“Let it never be said you’re remiss.”
Whitney heaved a loud sigh. “All right. I’ll see it accomplished for you. Does this mean you think you won’t be back from France by the time Audrey emerges from mourning?”
“I don’t know.” He did not want to reveal all of Audrey’s problems to Whitney. That was Audrey’s choice what to tell and when. As much as he did not want her to find a husband, he wanted her to have the best chance possible and he was the first to admit it was often the pretty picture that caught a man’s eye before he was smart enough to look deeper. Ridiculous but true. People of the ton would talk if she appeared in shabby gowns when she emerged from mourning, and it was going to be hard enough for her with her father dead and her brother possibly gone for good. He wanted to help her, even if it meant destroying his chance to marry her. As much as he wanted to deny the reality, it could take a long time to discover the truth about Gwyneth and then the truth might be that he was indeed still married.
Aware of his long silent pause, he said, “Sorry. Woolgathering.”
Whitney nodded, but her eyes held a gleam of disbelief.
“I simply want to do what I can to help ease Audrey’s transition back into Society.”
“Are you sure you should? If you help her look too lovely, she may find a husband that much quicker.” A frown pulled at Whitney’s mouth.
He nudged her chin as he used to do when they were young children. “My wife may still be alive, and it could very well take a long time to discover the truth. Should I ask Audrey to wait? I hardly think she will agree since she is determined to marry for love.”
“Oh, Trent.” Whitney sniffed and leaned down to give him a tight hug.
He gently pushed her away. “One last favor?”
“Of course.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“Watch over her.”
Whitney tsked. “As if you need to ask me such a thing.”
“That’s excellent.” Trent felt somewhat better about leaving Audrey to go to France, knowing she would have people looking out for her. “It’s all settled, then. Off to bed with you.”
Whitney stood. “Will you write me and tell me what you have learned?”
He would not write until he was coming home and only then if he was sure it was safe to do so. “I will,” he agreed, hating to add the necessary lie to the hundreds that already weighed him down.
Six Months Later
Kent, London
Audrey sat slumped in her brother’s study staring at the mounds of notes from creditors that had piled up since Richard’s disappearance. She nibbled on her lip as hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her. However was she going to manage to pay off all the debt they owed? They had only survived this long because she had found a bag of blunt stashed in her father’s bureau. It had not been a great deal, but between Ms. Frompington’s unexpected but rather well-timed decision to retire and Audrey rationing the remaining food and going to market to only by what was on sell or already cheap, they had managed to get by. But the money was almost gone.
She pursed her lips. She now despised potatoes. And darkness. Going from room to room at night with one lone candle was frustrating but necessary. Bah, she had to quit wallowing in self-pity. Things could be worse. And soon. She had no practical job experience, and even if she had, no trade she could work at would make enough money to pay the current debt, keep the estate running at a bare minimum and feed and clothe herself and her aunt. She laid her head on her forearm and squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t do something soon they’d starve to death. She wished Richard would come back, so at least the burden of worrying about him would be lifted and they could work to fix things together, but she had not heard a word from him and had no extra money to hire someone to try to find him.
She might have lain there all day, but a knock at her study door forced her to rouse herself. “Come in,” she said, trying to force a note of cheerfulness into her voice. To her ears, she sounded strained and anything but cheerful but at least she was making an effort.
Aunt Hillie strolled into the room in such a shocking shade of orange Audrey felt her lower jaw drop open. Even for her aunt, the color was outrageous. Audrey swallowed and chose her words carefully as not to hurt her aunt’s feelings. “I see you’ve wasted no time disposing of your black silk mourning attire.”
“Your father’s been dead six months and a day. The mourning period is over, and I say we’ve done his passing more than justice. You’ve not stepped foot outside of this house in all that time except to bicker at market nor have you let anyone besides that shifty-eyed fox Lord Thortonberry in here.”
Audrey frowned. “I don’t understand why you dislike Lord Thortonberry so much. He’s been nothing but kind to us. What has he done that’s gotten under your bonnet? Was it the sweet treats he brought? Or perhaps it was the freshly baked bread from his cook? Yes, that must be it. It wasn’t as warm as it should have been, was it?”
Her aunt snickered. “I admit he’s done several kind deeds. Of course,” her aunt said slowly. “Others―take for instance your three friends that tried to call on you numerous times―would have done kind things for us too, if you’d let them. Yet Lord Thortonberry was the only one you allowed past the front door. You turned everyone else away with paltry excuses that I’ve no doubt they all knew to be made up.”
Audrey stiffened. “You know I had to turn Whitney, Gillian and Sally away.”
“I know no such thing.” Her aunt plopped in the chair on the other side of the desk and set something down with a clank.
Whitney eyed the tarnished silver tray her aunt’s fingers still lingered on. Letters peeped out from underneath Hillie’s hold. Undoubtedly, more bills. Audrey looked away from the tray and caught Aunt Hillie’s gaze. “Are you playing butler today?”
Her aunt nodded. “You can play cook. I think potatoes are on the menu.”
They groaned in unison.
“About your friends,” her aunt said, never one to give up on something she wanted to know.
“My friends are too kindhearted and good to end our friendship. What sort of person would I be if I allowed them to remain my friends and become tarnished by the rumors that will swirl about our family when people start to question where Richard is or worse our financial predicament becomes public knowledge?”
Her words were partially true. She did want to protect her friends, but she was also afraid. She’d refused to see them when they tried to visit, because, well, what if they decided once they knew about her family’s problems to end their friendship with her? After the betrayals she’d suffered at her father, brother and Trent’s hands, she didn’t think she could withstand one more person letting her down. It had seemed wise to take the initiative and put distance between herself and the ladies rather than have them do it to her.
Her aunt sighed. “You chose the coward’s way. It’s not like you, my dear. It’s not your nature. You need to be brave now. It’s time to
live again, my girl.” Her aunt speared her with a knowing look. “No more hiding from life behind the excuse of your father’s death.”
Audrey swallowed hard. One of the things she’d learned in the past six months of keeping company with only her aunt was that her father had grossly underestimated Aunt Hillie more than Audrey had previously considered. The woman was as shrewd as they came. Audrey pretended to straighten the stacks of bills on her desk. “I’m not hiding,” she lied.
“Excellent,” her aunt replied. “Then you and I can open these letters you received and reply yes, if they happen to be invitations.” Her aunt slid the tray she’d brought in across the desk until it was directly in front of Audrey’s nose.
The envelopes were small, thick and sealed, much like an invitation would be. She picked them up and a large lump formed in her throat. Tears burned the backs of her eyes when she read whom the correspondences were from. One by one, she opened the notes and gratitude flowed through her. Each of her friends had invited her to various entertainments occurring in Town as the Season was in full swing, and all three women had included a separate note imploring her to come and to let them call on her.
Audrey blinked away the moisture pooling in her eyes. “These are from my friends.”
“Oh, really?” Her aunt smiled gently at her.
Audrey walked around the desk, sat in the chair facing her aunt, took her aunt’s hands and squeezed them. “Whatever shall I do? I ought not to go.”
“Pish posh,” her aunt said. “They’re grown women. Give them a chance to hear the truth and decide for themselves what they shall do.”
“Yes, I suppose,” Audrey mumbled, but her hidden fear blossomed in her chest as she thought of going back out into Society and possibly running into Trent. “What if I see him?”
Her aunt patted Audrey’s knee. “It’s bound to happen someday. But if you’re truly too desperately afraid to venture back out into Society, then stay here. I won’t try to force you, but soon we need to find some sort of employment or we shall starve to death. I can sell my wedding ring.” Her aunt held up her hand and her gold wedding band gleamed. For the first time Audrey noticed her aunt’s hands shook badly and were oddly misshapen. Audrey clasped her aunt’s hand back in hers, and when she did, Aunt Hillie hissed ever so slightly.
“Did I hurt you?” Audrey asked, lessening her grip on her aunt.
“Just a bit. My hands have been bothering me of late.”
Her aunt was in no condition to work. She was gaining age and needed to be cared for. It was up to Audrey to provide for them since Richard had fled. The best way she knew to secure their future was to marry, and marry well. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth and made her stomach turn.
She didn’t like the idea of hunting for a husband because she had to. That went against the very grain of the dream she’d always held in her heart and in her hopes to marry for love. Quickly, she cataloged in her mind the jewels of her mother’s she’d found in her father’s dresser after his death. There wasn’t much left but there were four pieces that were worth enough money to get them by for the next several months. She had recently written to Lord Thornberry in London and inquired if he knew of someone who could sell them for her. He was the only one who knew of their circumstances since he had practically forced his way into her home to help her after he had suspected Richard had fled. But she was glad Lord Thortonberry had done what he had. She had come to rely on him in a way.
“I can practically hear you thinking about your plan,” Aunt Hillie said.
Audrey nodded. “I was just wondering when I might receive a response from Lord Thortonberry. I do hope he knows someone who can assist us. Those jewels could sustain us for next several months until I can secure a proper husband to save us both from ruin.”
“I suppose Lord Byron did say carpe diem, but it saddens me to think you would settle for anything less than love.”
“It saddens me too, but nevertheless, if I can find a way to sell Mother’s jewels, I could buy us a good three months I’d wager.”
Her aunt’s forehead creased with lines Audrey suspected were caused by worry.
Audrey took a fortifying breath. “You never know what can transpire in three months.” She forced a smile. She was determined to sound positive so her aunt wouldn’t worry any more than she already was. “Maybe Prince Charming will fall at my feet and declare his love for me.” An image of Trent filled her head, and she nearly gasped. For these past six months, she’d not allowed herself to think of how she’d loved the rake, and she wasn’t about to permit herself to remember those feelings now.
“I hope so dear.”
A knock at the front door echoed down the hall, and Aunt Hillie stood. “You stay here and plan how you’re going to find your Prince Charming. Mayhap we’ll be able to hire the butler back once we sell the jewelry.”
Audrey nodded absently, only briefly wondering who it could be. She knew Lord Thortonberry was in London on business and wouldn’t be back to the country for at least three weeks, which was precisely why she had written him when the idea to sell Mother’s jewels had struck. She did not have three weeks to wait for Lord Thortonberry to return. Secretly, she suspected he was going to pursue Lady Caroline, who was undoubtedly in London for the Season. Selfishly, Audrey would miss his company, but she would never voice that to him. She wanted him to win the heart of the woman he loved. Someone should have the happiness Audrey had always dreamed of.
Immediately her thoughts turned to Trent. The man was no longer part of her life. Had he gone to France to search for his wife as he had said he was going to? Was he back in London? Was he a widower or not? Gracious alive, she had to stop this. Trent had only offered for her out of a sense of obligation or at best desire. He didn’t love her, and he never would. If she couldn’t marry the man she had loved, and she didn’t fall in love again, maybe she would find a man who had the potential inside him to grow to love her. She didn’t want to enter a marriage where she was in love but it wasn’t returned. She never wanted to be that vulnerable to a man. Her mother’s plight had proven that to her.
Calling on the same will she’d invoked when her mother had died, Audrey shoved the lingering feelings for Trent away. She was a strong woman. She would create a happy life out of the ashes of havoc that swirled around her now. What she needed to figure out immediately was exactly how to go about building that happy life.
Dread filled her chest when she contemplated going to London for the Season once again, but she had little choice. She ran a hand down her mourning dress. If she was going to face possible scorn and cuts direct from people in the ton, it would be preferable to confront them in style, but she had no spare blunt to purchase new gowns.
She nibbled on her lip and dismissed her silly wish. There was no place for pride in battle. Any man she wanted to marry would not desire to wed her for her taste in clothing. They should want her for the woman she was on the inside, not how she looked on the outside. Still, she would pull out all her dresses from last season and do her best to make them as presentable as possible since experience had shown her men rarely bothered to try to discover the secrets of a woman’s heart if they didn’t care for the flesh that encased it.
She drummed her fingers against her thigh. Money was the immediate problem. She may be able to go without new dresses, but they simply had to have a butler in Town. There was no getting by without one there, as she could here in the country. And they needed blunt for food and to keep the house warm and lit.
The tapping of footsteps brought her to her feet and tuning toward the door. Her aunt came through first with a frown on her face. Immediately after her, Lord Thortonberry strode into the room with a huge smile and offered her a leg.
“Lord Thortonberry!” Audrey brushed past her aunt, discreetly giving her a pleading look as she did, and made her way to stand in front of her guest. “Whatever are you doing here? I thought you said you’d be gone several weeks.”
“I received your letter and I came right away to assist you.”
Audrey was about to ask him why he would do such a thing, when Aunt Hillie harrumphed and then spoke. “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”
“Aunt Hillie!” Audrey chided.
Her aunt gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence, then leveled Lord Thortonberry with a stare that could only be described as hostile. “Lord Thortonberry, do you know who wrote that?”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe I do. I’m terribly sorry.”
Aunt Hillie cocked her head. “No matter. I wouldn’t have thought you would, but I’m not above recognizing there’s the slightest chance I misjudged someone’s character.”
Audrey’s face heated as she hurried to her aunt and gripped her by the arm. “Aunt Hillie, I think it’s time for your nap.”
“I don’t take a nap.”
“Yes, I know,” Audrey whispered in her aunt’s ear as Lord Thortonberry coughed, Audrey suspected, to cover the sound of Audrey and her aunt’s frantic exchange of words. Even now, when her aunt had purposely insulted him, the man was kind. Audrey practically dragged her aunt to the door and gave her a gentle push out of the study. She stepped into the hall for a moment, and making sure to keep her voice low so she wasn’t overheard, she said, “I don’t know why you dislike him so, but he’s my friend and I’m begging you to be kind.”
Aunt Hillie pursed her lips. After a moment, she heaved a sigh. “On his own, I don’t dislike him particularly, though I feel he is being less than honest, and I’m positive he’s not the man for you.”
“Heaven above, Aunt Hillie. He doesn’t even like me. We’re simply friends.” With a glance over her shoulder, she confirmed that Lord Thortonberry was sitting and not paying their conversation any mind. She stepped closer to her aunt. “What makes you say he’s not the man for me?” Gracious, what possessed her to ask that?
“Your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Audrey blinked. “Whatever do my eyes have to do with love?”
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