As Averil had expected, things were not going well at the Home for Distressed Women. If anything they were worse than when she had left. Gareth was staying at her home after moving out of the baroness’s Bloomsbury house, and almost as soon as she stepped inside her door, he drew her into the parlor for a private chat.
Averil hoped he wasn’t going to ask her about the dower house. She didn’t want to talk about it yet. The journey home in the Southbrooks’ coach had been mostly silent, as she and Beth mulled over their personal situations, and Violet grew more and more sullen the closer they came to London.
But she needn’t have worried. Gareth only wanted to tell her how the Baroness Sessington was spreading rumors about him, and how more and more of his donors had begun to withdraw their support for his cause.
“She is saying the most scandalous things about me!” he cried, striding back and forth across the room in front of her. “What can I do? If I retaliate then I am ungentlemanly, but if I allow this to continue then all that I’ve worked for will soon be in ruins.”
Averil sighed. “If only I had control of my inheritance,” she said, “I could help you. I suppose I could ask my trustees but I doubt they will agree to me using my money to support the Home. Not until I turn twenty-one, or marry.”
A lump came into her throat but she swallowed it down. She’d never marry now, she thought miserably.
Gareth was staring at her wildly and now he dropped to his knees before her on the Persian rug. “Marry me, Averil. Please, it is the only thing that will save us.”
Averil burst into laughter. “Gareth, you’re my cousin. We’re almost like brother and sister.”
“Second cousin.” But he suddenly looked uneasy at the thought of them being a couple.
She shook her head at him. “Do get up. Really, it would be impossible. Get up and I will ring for some tea. And calm yourself, Gareth. I shall be twenty-one soon enough. Until then we will just have to think of something else.”
He did as she asked. “What about Southbrook’s property? You know we won’t be able to afford to pay for that.”
Averil took a deep breath. “That didn’t quite work out as I’d hoped, Gareth.”
“Oh?” He noticed something in her face, try as she might to pretend everything was as normal. “You’ve fallen out with him,” he said, dully. “We make a fine pair, don’t we? Me and the baroness and you and the earl.”
“I-I don’t think I want to talk about it.”
And if Gareth found out that Rufus had made love to her on the chaise longue he wouldn’t want to talk about it, either, he’d probably ride to Lincolnshire and demand the earl make an honest woman of her. Could there be anything worse than being forced to marry a man who only wanted her for her fortune?
“I’ve been considering our expenses,” she went on hastily, before he could begin to
question her. “You know I don’t like Jackson. I don’t trust him. I think he may be part of the problem with the women leaving. I want you to tell him his services are no longer required, Gareth.”
She expected an argument, but Gareth seemed almost glad to hand over the decision to Averil. “I pay him rather more than he deserves,” he admitted uncomfortably.
“Very well then. And I will visit my trustees and ask them if I can borrow a small amount on the strength of my inheritance. Until something can be sorted out. Perhaps you’ll find another benefactor, Gareth? We should write letters, pay visits . . . We must not simply give up.”
Her rousing words seemed to cheer him up, and he set off to do her biding with more of a spring in his step. Once he’d gone, Averil went to find Beth.
Her companion had left Averil to her cousin, and gone up to her room. When Averil knocked she found Beth seated by the window, staring out with suspiciously moist eyes.
“There you are,” Beth said, getting to her feet and beginning to unpack the bag she’d left on the floor. “How is Doctor Simmons?”
“Worried. Several more women have left the Home. At this rate we won’t need to find more money to fund it, there won’t be anyone left.”
“Oh dear,” Beth responded, but Averil could see her heart wasn’t in it.
“Beth,” she began, but Beth wouldn’t allow her to begin a cozy tête-à-tête.
She shook her head. “I know there are things we must discuss,” she said, “but I think I need to be alone. Just for now. I don’t think I’m quite ready to face the consequences of your-your mistake with the earl, and James’s fibs.”
Was it a mistake? It hadn’t felt like one at the time.
Averil pulled her thoughts into line. “James didn’t exactly fib, did he? He just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
Beth sniffed. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it? How do you trust a man who doesn’t tell you the whole truth? No, Averil, I don’t want to talk about either of the Southbrooks.”
Averil didn’t demur because she didn’t want to talk about them, either. “I’ll see you at supper then.” She’d reached the door when Beth spoke again.