But the more Richard considered Will Jackson, the more he seemed to discover things about the man he didn’t quite approve of. They were little things, but nevertheless Richard wanted perfection for Tina. There might be someone at Arlington Hall. Apart from himself, of course, because Richard had vowed not to marry, not until Anthony’s murderer was brought to justice, and even then . . . well Evelyn had dampened his desire for marriage.
There would be the perfect someone for Tina, he reassured himself. He just had to keep looking.
Chapter 17
Lady Carol had taken to her bed, and the household crept about like mice. The doctor was called to attend her. “She needs complete rest,” he informed Sir Thomas. “No excitement of any kind, or I won’t answer for the consequences.”
Tina had a fair idea of the nature of the excitement that had sent her mother to her bed, and so did Sir Thomas. When the day’s mail arrived and was carried in on the silver tray, they both pounced upon it as a way of diverting their thoughts.
Sir Thomas sifted through the letters, setting aside the bills, of which there were a great many, looking for anything to give his thoughts another direction. “Ah, here’s an invitation for a weekend at Sir Henry and Lady Isabelle Arlington’s country estate! Lovely spot. Right on the river and acres of woodland. Good hunting, as I recall.”
“That should cheer Mama up. She loves the countryside.”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Hmm. You and Charles are invited, too.”
Tina waited a moment, and then said softly. “Can we go, Father? I mean, is it possible for us to go just now, with things as they are?”
“Probably not,” he muttered, throwing down the invitation. “I’ve arranged to sell the coach. How will we get there? And your mother will want new clothes, and how will we manage that?”
But when she heard of the invitation, Lady Carol had other ideas.
“You certainly will go!
And Charles, too. Your father and I will make our excuses, but you and Charles must go.”
“Mama, we don’t need to, really, I understand that our circumstances have changed and—”
Lady Carol gave her a bleak look, and Tina’s voice faltered and stopped. “The wretched bailiffs will be coming next week. You and Charles don’t want to be here to see that, Tina.”
“Oh, Mama!”
With an effort her mother rallied. “Never mind,” she said, waving her hand as if to push the horror as far away as possible. “You must go, Tina. What if Horace chooses that weekend to propose to you? And I still have hopes for Charles and Anne although the Burgesses seem to have got wind of our dire circumstances and are warning her off him. Still if they aren’t thrown together, then how can we expect a happy ending?”
Inwardly Tina sighed. Horace was their last hope. She must persuade him, somehow, that he loved her and wanted to marry her. The conversation played out in her head:
“Please make me the happiest man in the world, Tina, and marry me. I realize I can’t live without you. How could I have been so blind all these years?”
“Yes, Horace, of course I will marry you.”
“That’s wonderful. Let’s not wait. We must marry immediately.”
“Yes, Horace, immediately. Uhm, by the way, my family are about to be turned out of their home onto the street. Can we borrow your fortune?”
Thankfully she never found out what Horace might have said in response, as her mother climbed from her bed with some of her old vigor.
“Ring for Maria, my dear! We must start planning your wardrobe. It was fortunate we had that new dress made for your visit to the theater, wasn’t it? And somehow we must manage one or two more. There will be a ball, the Arlingtons always have a ball. You need a ball dress, Tina, something truly striking. I think I have one or two pieces of jewelry I won’t miss too much, enough to pay the dressmaker at any rate.”
“Mama, please don’t—”
Lady Carol’s mouth firmed. “No arguments. Ring the bell, Tina.”
Tina went to ring the bell, trying not to let her mother see how her heart sank at the idea of wearing a dress that had been bought with her mother’s precious jewelry.
“You have your dark blue dress for traveling,” Lady Carol went on. “Does it still fit?”
“It is too short.”
“Never mind, we’ll manage. Perhaps a trim along the hem. At least we do not have to worry about your undergarments, even darned stockings will do at a pinch, no one will see them. Apart from the servants.”