The Honourable Fortune Hunter (Scandalous Miss Brightwells 5)

“Enough chatter and more attention, girl!” Mrs Hodge snapped. “You do not care about the ninety-nine people who are not Mr Dalgleish. He is here to assess you as his future bride, an

d you have already agreed that if he finds you pleasing, you will be honoured to take up your role as mistress of Rawlings.”

Lizzy wrinkled her brow. “I haven’t exactly accepted him—”

“There is no finer gentleman here, you will soon discover, Lizzy. He is handsome, charming, and he is, as you well know, the husband that your father has chosen.”

“My father never spoke of marriage, ma’am. I was only fourteen when—”

“Your father and the poor late Mr Jeremy Hodge were like brothers and—if you want to put too fine a point on it—it was Mr Hodge who was convinced that your father would be satisfied that no finer husband for you would be found than Mr Dalgleish.” Mrs Hodge shifted her bulk on the sofa as she indicated the door. “Now, off you go. There’s just time for an afternoon walk for the sun is shining and the snow, I’m told, is not yet hardened to ice. Go and find Mr Dalgleish and prove to him that his assessment of you is on the mark. You have half an hour before you must return in time to dress for dinner. You shall present yourself to me when you are ready to go down.”

As ever, the instructions gave Lizzy no opportunity to object. Given Lizzy’s nature, it was perhaps just as well, though it had been a good few months since Lizzy had actually received a clip over the ear.

Older and wiser, Lizzy saw that her best course of action was meek compliance. She could make her own decisions when she didn’t have Mrs Hodge breathing down her neck—which fortunately would be less likely given that Mrs Hodge was terrified of slipping on ice and never ventured outside during the winter.

Otherwise, Lizzy would be sure that she would, herself, lead Lizzy directly into Mr Dalgleish’s orbit.

Now, as Lizzy stepped out into the garden, the pathways free of snow and the sun shining weakly upon the glistening fields of white that surrounded her, she felt truly free. Free to go where she chose for the next half an hour which would not be into Mr Dalgleish’s orbit.

No, she was going in search of Mr McAlister, for if ever there was a charming young man she felt able to talk with about her marital concerns, it was the unemotional, steady, and practical fellow with those exciting hidden depths that could send him crashing through all barriers in the pursuit of necessary heroism.

He might be in the process of arranging his own matrimonial future course, but Lizzy could see he was not motivated by burning love.

She’d read far too many romantic novels to know what a young man who was truly in love actually looked like when he spoke of the girl he was to marry.

If Theodore hadn’t felt so keenly the snub of his reception by several gentlemen he knew, in the wake of the arctic reception of their wives, he might have enjoyed the prospect of a few days at Quamby House.

His own house was decidedly chilly these days. And lonely.

But he suspected he’d not feel lonelier than he would amidst a throng of people who wouldn’t speak to him.

Now, with an hour before he had to change for dinner, he stood alone by the river and stared gloomily up at the magnificent seat of the Earl of Quamby.

He’d been a fool to have thought his reception would be any different.

Indeed, he ought to have got used to it by now. Now he should just make the most of the change of scene and pace and do some exploring.

Strolling upriver, he discovered a folly in the form of a quaint miniature chateau perched in the lee of a slope which protected it from view, though Quamby House was only a five-minute walk and the windows of the great residence looked directly down upon the snow-covered slope to the river.

No one observing the guests in the garden would be able to see the folly tucked behind a small rise, which he’d come upon quite by surprise.

He peered through one of the front windows and then, finding the door unlocked, let himself in.

Made of rough-hewn stone, the folly was nevertheless quite cosy within, having a tiny front parlour and, behind that, a chamber large enough only for a bed and washstand. The furnishings, however, were of the most sumptuous materials, and he imagined this must be a trysting bower for the earl and his countess.

Not with each other, however, he’d heard.

Different rules for different people, he reflected as he retraced his footsteps towards the main house a few minutes later, only to see Amelia’s uncle’s carriage with the distinctive family coat of arms painted on the gleaming blue paintwork in the distance. A footman was in the process of opening the door, and several of Quamby’s retainers stood beneath the portico stairs to greet the new guests.

Abruptly, Theodore halted his progress across the snow-covered lawns and took refuge behind the rose bushes; through prudence rather than cowardliness, he told himself.

Amelia had told him in a letter he’d received several weeks prior that her arrival was scheduled for the following day, and in company with her hated new companion, Miss Lemmings, whom her uncle had recently employed to replace Amelia’s loyal and devoted governess, Miss Cooper, who’d died a few months before.

Not long after Jane had died, in fact. What a winter of sorrow it had been. For all of them. And now Amelia’s woes looked set to continue.

Having ascertained that the carriage contained only the two women, Theo judged it safe to continue his return to the house, arriving at the portico just as Amelia was organising the despatch of various items. He was gratified by her obvious pleasure to see him.

“Theo, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked, after directing a servant to be careful with a hatbox. Clearly, she had just returned from a shopping visit to the village so must have been ensconced at Quamby House for some time. But when she next spoke, the familiar shuttered look had extinguished the light in her eyes. With a furtive glance at her companion currently gathering together their latest purchases, she whispered, “You know it’s dangerous for us to be seen together, Theo. I wish I could talk to you but I can’t.” She sent another glance over her shoulder clearly relieved that her companion appeared not to notice them and that the footman blocked Theo from view amidst the flurry of their arrival.