Tightly, he squeezed her hand. "If it comes to that, we shall manage, Anna. We have in the past and we will do so again."
"How?" Instantly his sister was suspicious, as she usually was when funds of any sort were discussed. "You are not going back to Lady Frostburn or her friends again, are you?"
"No. Certainly not." Emerging from behind his desk, Will moved to his nearly empty bookshelf and picked up what looked like nothing more than a twisted piece of wood but was really a sculpture one of his mother's "artist friends" had created from moldy, old clay many years ago. "I'm thinking of selling some of these things."
"Mama's legacy?" Anan joined Will by the bookcase, frowning as she poked at a blob that was supposed to be an elephant. At least that was what the card beside it said. "You promised her that you wouldn't."
"I also promised her that you would marry well, and if the funds from The Letter end after this Season and you still do not have a husband? Then who is left? Winthrop? I would never allow you to suffer that fate. So what is more important to me? To the both of us? Your future? Or this art, if one can even call it that?" Will rubbed a thumb over the twisted sculpture that really looked like nothing at all, even though he had been told long ago that it was supposed to represent a tree. "Besides, she helped Papa seal our fate when she threw money we did not have at these so-called 'artists' in the hopes that she would one day be recognized as a magnanimous patroness of the arts. Instead, they both died leaving us flat broke, in debt, and with a pile of useless trinkets that have done nothing but collect dust ever since. Not even the creditors wanted them if you will recall."
"Some pieces you would keep?" There was a hopeful note in Anna's voice that Will did not understand but he did not press.
"If there are pieces you like, then certainly," he replied. "For I intend to keep that glass jar and pedestal in my room, monstrosity though it is. I put candles in there and they can burn all night without fear of fire. Clever, really. But those hideous half-lion, half-man sculptures in the attic and some of those watercolors that look as if they were created by a four-year-old having a fit? If I can find someone willing to give me good coin for them, then good riddance, I say."
Anna laughed. "Those man-lions or whatever they are supposed to be are truly hideous, aren't they? And I never did understand why they are holding tridents. There is nothing in the least aquatic about them."
"Positively ghastly," he agreed with a chuckle, feeling better than he had in a long while. "They really should be sold to someone who can appreciate them."
"Agreed." Anna leaned up on her tiptoes and gave Will a quick kiss on the cheek. "Do what you have to do, Will," she said, "but do not give up anything you cannot live without. No matter the price."
Then Anna was gone in a swish of pale skirts, leaving Will to shake his head in wonder at the change that had transpired in his sister in a little under two weeks. She was lively and confident and all of the things he never thought she would be, and he had Miri to thank for the change. He doubted she even realized how indebted he was to her.
Plucking the ugly sculpture off the shelf, Will returned to his desk and opened his ledgers again. He wished to do something special for Miri. In particular, he wished to buy her a telescope that a friend of his was looking to part with for the right price. It was another Euler, one far more powerful and extravagant than the one she already possessed. Not to mention rather expensive. However since Kingsford was the one looking to sell the telescope, Will knew his old friend would give him a fair price. Now that the man was no longer holed up alone in his musty old castle and had instead found himself a bride, the man was ridding himself of many of his duplicate possessions. And really, the man did have six more Eulers, or so he had informed Will just the other night. He really didn't need the seventh.
Will didn't have the funds for the telescope at present and he wasn't about to use any of the money Miri had given him - thus far still untouched in a special bank account - to buy Miri her own present. That was simply wrong. However, if he could sell one of these ugly little sculptures? Well, that money would go a very long way to help him purchase Miri a gift he knew she would adore. And would last far longer than the flowers and chocolates he sent her.
No, as he had laid in bed last night, his mind full of Miri and what he desired from her - namely marriage - thoughts began to come to him in rapid succession. He was no longer the man he was even a fortnight ago. Falling in love with Miri had changed him. He was no longer quite so cynical and certainly not nearly as desperate as he had been, even though he had no more funds in his accounts as he had possessed then. Nor was he as hopeless. In fact, he could finally see a future for himself that included a wife and children - so long as Miri was his wife. As for the children? Well, they would deal with that issue later. Perhaps she was not so barren as she believed.
Will also had a plan to begin to set his estate back to rights, something he should have done years ago, but never quite had the courage - or the reason - to go through with. And that plan had begun to form yesterday when he happened to glance at a small column in one of the daily newspapers regarding the death of a man Will once knew rather well.
Picking up his quill, Will dipped it in ink and began to write. He had several people in mind that might appreciate the work of one Antoine De Clercq, a young Belgian that his mother had taken a liking to many years ago. In fact, she had liked him so much that she had invited the man to live with her family for a time, something that Will had always resented - especially given the way his mother had fawned all over the young man while nearly ignoring her own flesh and blood children. It had been something of a sore spot between all of them for years until one night, the man had just up and left in the middle of the night, leaving behind only a pile of worthless art.
An article in yesterday's paper, however, indicated that De Clercq had been found dead in the bed of one Miss Francis "Fanny" Webb, a much-celebrated courtesan and half-sister to the man behind the famed Watson and Webb, the foremost of men's clothiers these days. The artist's death had brought renewed interest in his work, as had the lack of sculptures left behind in his studio, even though he was known to have created sculptures all of his life. Sculptures like the ones he had left behind in the Davenport home the night he had vanished into the darkness. The sculptures so worthless that not even the creditors had taken them years ago.
The article said nothing about the man's work being worth much of anything just yet, but in general, Will knew that an artist's death tended to spur interest and increase prices on any works left behind, at least for a few months. He also just happened to have at least six of the man's early works staring back at him from the bookshelf. There was no reason why he shouldn't begin to gauge interest in the pieces, especially since Will had also come to the conclusion that he needed to return the first fifty-thousand pounds Miri had given him.
He could not keep it, at least not tied as it was to the agreement that had brought them together. If he kept the money, then in some small way, he was still a whore and not a man worthy of Miri or her love. If he gave the money back? Well, their funds would likely co-mingle when they married anyway - for Will had also made up his mind to wed her even if she did not yet feel the same - and he would then have access to the funds again. If he needed them.
The truth was, Will hadn't touched a penny of Miri's money anyway. He couldn't. It felt wrong, no matter how desperate the estate was. So instead, he would begin selling off his mother's artwork.
He could have done that before, he supposed, as he drummed his fingers on the desk, wondering what piece should go next. It had just seemed disloyal to his mother and her memory. But one could not survive on memories and, more than that, a man could not live with himself - nor marry the woman he loved - if he sold his self-respect along with his body.
Before, Will had nothing to really live for, so whoring himself out had seemed like his only option for survival. He hadn't really cared what happened to him, so long as Anna was
taken care of. Now? There was Miri and Will owed it to her to be the man she thought he was. That meant returning her money and finding another way to make ends meet until he could persuade her to wed him properly.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Will began to whistle a little as he composed the first of his many letters regarding the De Clercq sculptures. For the first time in many, many years, Will was happy. Life was looking up and he was content. Most of all? He was in love.
Chapter Sixteen
Will sat next to Miri at Lady Fontaine's musicale praying that no one noticed how tightly he was clutching her hand. It had been five days since that magical afternoon on the Raynecourt family roof, and Will was just as much in love as he had been before - if not more so. According to his sister Anna, when they had spoken over breakfast that morning, he was actually stupidly in love. Which, coming from her was supremely funny since she had the most choice bachelors of the ton practically swooning at her feet. One in particular, he had just learned, at least if the Town Tattler was to be believed.
But the truth was the truth, and Will loved Miri more today than he had yesterday. Oh, her family still did not approve of him, and likely approved of him even less today than they had the day before, but he didn't care. Or at least he was trying very hard not to, anyway. Though that was rather difficult when the Earl of Raynecourt was standing across the room staring at Will as if he would like to challenge him to pistols at dawn.
Thus far, Miri's plan to convince her family that Will was the right man for her had fallen sadly flat. In fact, if anything, Raynecourt appeared even angrier than he had at the theater the night before. At that moment, if the man could have sliced Will to ribbons with just a glance, he likely would have.
"Do not allow my brother's glowering to disturb you," Miri whispered as Lady Fontaine's daughter, Primrose, took her seat at the pianoforte. "He is all bark and no bite. He knows nothing of what we have done. I am still working on bringing him around to our way of thinking. Have no fear."
"Actually, he looks like he wishes that he could bite my head off," Will replied crisply as the featured young lady began to bang away on the unfortunate instrument.
"He's been speaking with Sarah, unfortunately, and she counteracts much of the progress I make with him," Miri sighed. "I have no idea why she is being so stubborn about this. It is not her concern whom I marry, really. I thought all she fretted over was that I married at all. But do not worry. I will convince them to leave us be."
Will cast her a sideways glance. "And if you cannot?"
Miri shrugged. "There is always Aunt Beanie's home if I require it."
When Primrose whatever her name was began to torture the instrument in earnest, Will - like the rest of the audience - fell silent, though his mind continued to whirl. He loved Miri. She loved him. It should be easy for them to bring this courtship to its natural conclusion, but it was not.
That afternoon, Will had received a note from Raynecourt asking Will to meet him during a break in this evening's musicale. Knowing the earl's reputation and that he counted the Bloody Duke of Candlewood among his friends, Will could not imagine that whatever the man wanted to say would be pleasant.
Somehow, Will managed to sit through the entire torturous performance, though he was a little afraid that his ears were actually bleeding by the time Lady Primrose's display of musical talent was thankfully brought to a close. When Lady Fontaine announced that there would be a short intermission with refreshments before her daughter, Lady Violet, began to sing, Will nearly shot out of his chair claiming to need the retiring room and leaving a very confused Miri behind. However, it was best to reach her brother before his mood was soured any further by the evening's "entertainment."
Once he was away from the crowd, along with Miri's questioning eyes, Will's heartbeat slowed down a bit though he was no less nervous than he had been earlier. What if Raynecourt forbid Will from courting Miri? Then what would he do? The thought of his life without her made the hollow feeling in his chest return, the very same one he had lived with most of his life. It was Miri who calmed those fears in him, Miri who gave him purpose. Miri helped him see that he had worth, that there was still something good and decent within him. Without her, he was an empty shell of a man once again, and while it terrified him to admit that, Will also knew that it was the truth.
Finally, he arrived at a door that led to a small terrace. It was there, on the very far edge of the Fontaine townhome that Lord Raynecourt had requested to meet Will. Unsurprisingly, it was about as far away from the other guests as one could be without intruding into the family areas of the home.
"Lord Blackthorne." Will wasn't at all surprised when Raynecourt moved out of the shadows. Or that he was already there. The man was notorious for being sneaky and devious, something that was often belied by his rather studious appearance. "Leave the door open a bit, would you? My wife will have my hide if I am late returning to the ballroom."
"Lord Raynecourt." Will bowed stiffly, knowing full well that he was the lower of the two men, by funds alone if nothing else. "You wished to meet with me in private."
The other man nodded. "Call me Rayne, please. And yes, I did wish to speak with you, but without all of the drama a visit to my home would create." He shook his head. "I love my wife to distraction, but as of late, she is being rather overset and altogether far too stubborn, I fear. Happens when a lady is with child, I am told."
"My felicitations on the happy news," Will replied, not quite sure what sort of game Rayne was playing. He did not know the man well, but he knew his reputation. It was not like him to dance around an issue, especially if it was one of great importance. He imagined that Miri likely qualified as an issue of great importance. "I am certain your wife will deliver you a healthy babe."
Rayne grimaced. "Not if she does not calm herself." He inclined his head. "You see, Lady Raynecourt has it in her head that you are using my sister for her considerable funds. Though I confess I am not certain as to how that can be, for even I don't know what sort of funds she has at her disposal. Our Aunt Beanie and her other aunts made certain that no one but Miri herself can control what monies she has or even know how much of them she has."
"I know your sister has funds of her own," Will confessed. He was not about to lie regarding something so important as this. "But, like you, I have no idea how much of a fortune she possesses. In fact, until just about three days ago, I was unaware that she had any funds at all."
"Nothing at all?" Rayne raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
Will shrugged, attempting to be as honest as he possibly could. "I assumed that Lady Miri possessed a dowry, of course. After all, if she did not, that sort of news would be splashed all over the gossip rags by now. But beyond that? Well, no lady of Society has money, generally speaking. So I had no reason to assume she did either." That was a small lie, of course. Will simply hadn't known how much of a fortune Miri possessed. He still didn't. Then again, from the sounds of it, neither did her brother.
That answer seemed to satisfy Rayne, however, and the other man nodded. "And the rumors I hear about you?" He glanced at Will's chest, his question left unspoken.
Now was the time Will truly needed to lie and he did so without hesitation, for his future with Miri depended on what he said in this moment. Though he would stick as close to the truth as possible. This particular business was between him and Miri, not her brother. "Last summer at Lord and Lady Enwright's house party, Lady Frostburn noticed my sister's out of date gown and made a rather nasty remark that if I truly cared about my sister and her future, I would find a way to ensure she had the proper wardrobe. Even if that meant selling myself to Society women to warm their beds."
"And someone overheard, did not fully understand what they were hearing, and a rumor began." Rayne held up his hands. The man assumed much and Will was relieved that he did not have to lie to the man who might one day be his brother in law. "Say no more, Blackthorne. I understand very well how th
ose sorts of rumors begin and how they can take on a life of their own."
"But I have never sold myself like some common whore. I have shared the beds of many women. I won't lie about that. Not that I could anyway for you read the papers, after all. But never for coin." By the time he had bedded Miri, Will's heart had been involved, so it was hardly the same thing.
"Haven't we all, though?" Rayne joked for a moment before sobering. "And you know of my sister and Randall Witherson? Nasty fellow, yet my wife insists I am wrong about him. Your thoughts on the matter?"
Will nodded, certain his gaze was darkening at the mere thought of Witherson laying a finger on Miri again. "The same day she revealed to me that she possesses a fortune, Lady Miri also told me the truth of her and Lady Pearl's expulsion. It was hardly her fault. The man is a lecher. If he were here now, he would not get within a ballroom's width of your sister. Or any other young lady for that matter. I would call him out for what he has done."
"Agreed. The bastard should be dead, at least if my wife had allowed me to have my way," Rayne grumbled angrily. "Though she does confuse me at times, I suppose that is why my wife is being so careful with Miri now. My sister risked ruination once, after all, and my mother is hardly a good judge of character in matters such as this."
Will turned away from the other man and gripped the rail of the balustrade hard, so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I would never hurt her, Rayne. I love your sister beyond reason, God help me. I never meant to become involved with her." He glanced back over his shoulder to judge the other man's reaction. When he saw nothing amiss, he continued. "I only meant to ask her to waltz because she looked so sad that night at your family's ball. I wished to make her, well, if not smile, then at least not look quite so miserable. The truth is, I had observed her for a Season or so, but doubted she would welcome a suit, especially from an impoverished earl like me." He looked skyward and laughed. "But that night in your home? There was something about her that captivated me. She reminded me of a drawing of a fairy queen that was in a book my mother read to me as a child. So, for the first time in my life, I dared."
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