The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

With a mild sigh of frustration, he did not correct his earlier statement, but said, “And someone came to tear it asunder.”

Estelle nodded. “Lord Trevane’s father persuaded my father to invest in what should have been a lucrative venture — silver mining across the ocean in South America.”

“And the venture failed, presumably.”

“Yes. The mine collapsed. People died. My father lost everything due to a clause in the contract that he had not read properly before signing.” She recalled the letter arriving from the solicitor. She had never seen a man cry before that day. “My father was frivolous with money, but he had no reason to distrust the marquess.”

“I trust your family home was entailed.”

“My father and brother had no option but to break the entailment. The debts were insurmountable. My father took out numerous loans to cover some of his investment, you see. It would have been the end of him had my brother not agreed it was better to pay the debt and begin again.”

Mr Erstwhile’s eyes flashed with admiration. “Then your brother must be a remarkable man to put his family’s needs before his own.”

Estelle’s heart swelled when she thought of Fabian. She must have hurt him deeply and only hoped he could forgive her.

“By all accounts, he has made rather a name for himself running a fleet of merchant ships.”

“Clearly, courage is a family trait.” Mr Erstwhile’s smile faded, and he frowned. “But surely your dowry was intact. Although Lord Trevane does not strike me as a man who would choose money over love.”

Estelle cradled the glass in her lap. “I have no notion what Lord Trevane would choose as I never gave him the option.” It was wrong of her to leave without speaking to Ross. She knew that now. But she’d been so confused, so lost and scared.

A heavy silence filled the room.

Mr Erstwhile’s shoulders sagged. “But you told Lord Trevane you couldn’t marry him?”

“No.” Oh, she could never have told him that. “You see his father intentionally ruined my father to make it too difficult for us to marry.”

“The marquess would rather see your father bankrupt than have you marry his son? Surely not, child.” Mr Erstwhile cleared his throat. “I saw the possessive look in Lord Trevane’s eyes when he almost punched Mr Hungerford in the street. No doubt he would have protested should his father attempt to force his hand.”

A lump formed in Estelle’s throat. Brought to bear by the burden of regret. She struggled to swallow. “Ross knows noth

ing of the day his father came to see me.” It would break him to know the truth about his parents, to know the level of deceit and betrayal. “All he knows is that I left without a word despite promising to marry him.”

Disappointment passed over Mr Erstwhile’s face. “When we are young, we do not always see things clearly. The lady I know would not intentionally hurt someone she loves.”

Estelle closed her eyes briefly. She had made up her mind to tell Ross everything, and would tell the truth now.

“My father would not have prevented the match. But he grew bitter, insisted that I could not know the character of the man I wanted to marry. Indeed, he had decided I should stay with my great-aunt while he and my brother made arrangements to sell the estate. He said time apart might save me from making a dreadful mistake.”

“So that is how you came to be so far from home.”

“No, I was to go to Yorkshire, not France.” To tell him of the shipwreck and her life with the smugglers would be more than his poor heart could take. “But my maid received word that her uncle had come into some money and had bought a vineyard. She contemplated returning to Bordeaux.” Estelle’s mind had been so heavy with the weight of her burden when all she’d wanted was to be with Ross. “The conversation I had with Ross’ father the day before I left persuaded me to flee.”

“From the outcome, I imagine it was not a pleasant conversation.”

“No.”

“And yet I sense unpleasant is too mild a word.”

“Ross’ father came upon me in the orchard one morning. He made it clear that he had the power to prevent the match. Indeed, he presented a promissory note signed by my father, and said he would call it in unless I told Ross that I couldn’t marry him.”

Mr Erstwhile stared at her incredulously. “The marquess must surely have had a motive for his despicable behaviour.”

“Indeed.” The motive stemmed from jealousy and obsession. “Ross worshipped his parents. He often told me that he wished for a love like theirs. But it was perhaps the greatest deception. His father had kept a mistress for ten years. When Ross’ mother died, the marquess wanted to marry his lover, but she declined and only agreed to continue the relationship providing Ross marry her daughter.”

Mr Erstwhile’s mouth fell open. “The marquess wanted his son to marry a courtesan’s daughter?”

“No, the mistress was a lady, a widow of wealth and status. The daughter was the legitimate child of a member of the aristocracy. The marquess never mentioned the lady’s name. Perhaps he thought that to do so might give me a hand in the game.”