The Honourable Fortune Hunter (Scandalous Miss Brightwells 5)

Lizzy looked at her oddly. Lady Quamby must be very anxious indeed to be quizzing the servants. A disturbance near the door caused her to glance away.

“Where is she? Where is my bride-to-be?”

Lizzy blinked at the large, broad-shouldered gentleman who’d just arrived in their midst, flanked by Lord Quamby, whom she now heard reassuring him, “Miss Harcourt was here just a moment ago,” as he peered amidst the throng.

The earl looked relieved as his gaze fell upon his wife, and he brought the new arrival into their midst, introducing him to Lady Quamby and Lizzy before clearing his throat as if he too were nervous. “Excuse me, my love, but Lord Leighton would like to be taken to Miss Harcourt immediately.”

“Why, Lord Leighton, you’ve only just arrived. You must be weary.” Lady Quamby adopted an air of false bonhomie, and Lizzy’s suspicions ratcheted up a notch as she remembered Mabel describing Miss Harcourt’s unhappiness at the prospect of marrying Lord Leighton.

“Not too weary to see the woman I’m to marry. Where is Amelia? I’ve waited long enough.”

So this was the man Miss Harcourt was to marry. Lizzy took in the wide breadth of his shoulders, the strong nose and chin, the big, meaty hands. He looked to be of middle age—perhaps forty, with the kind of self-entitled confidence of the powerful. Despite his smile, there was something about his eyes and the line of his mouth that Lizzy did not like.

And she was tired of pandering to men she did not like.

“Miss Harcourt? The dark-haired young lady I was talking to not five minutes ago?” She pretended to clarify her identity, wondering aloud where, indeed, Miss Harcourt was. It had not escaped her notice that, not long after the young woman had slipped away from the saloon, Theo had followed.

So, they’d eloped. She had lost him. Lizzy accepted that. At least, in this moment, she could take some comfort from the fact it wasn’t to someone more vibrant and pretty than Lizzy. But, looking at Lord Leighton, she conceded that Miss Harcourt was, possibly, someone as deserving of being delivered from a marriage she did not want.

“That is correct,” said Lord Quamby.

Lizzy thought quickly. If Miss Harcourt had left to elope with Theo, maybe she truly did have a chance to escape…only Lord Leighton was closer on her heels than she might have supposed. Drawing on her inspiration, Lizzy clapped her hands. “I believe she told me she’d promised to read to the children. I saw her head for the nursery.”

Lord Leighton thanked her and began to turn away.

“And then she was going to have a bath and go to bed early,” Lizzy went on. “I’m not sure, but I think I saw her leave with Lady Fenton.” That was a nice piece of inspiration, she thought, for the two men nodded with apparent satisfaction.

To her surprise, Lady Quamby was still by her side.

“Is there anything else, ma’am?” Lizzy asked, and Lady Quamby flashed her a look that combined concern with guilt.

“I apologise for my behaviour earlier, Lizzy. It was ill done of me to take you to meet Mr Dalgleish. Alone.”

“Yes, alone. Which is why I now must marry him, Lady Quamby.” Lizzy didn’t hide the bitterness in her tone. “Mrs Hodge considers my reputation stained beyond redemption on account of it.”

“I’m sorry!”

“So am I, ma’am. But what can I do? Mrs Hodge is my guardian for the next six years.”

Lizzy had followed Lady Quamby towards the supper room as they spoke, and they were now in a quiet vestibule separating the entertainment quarters from the card rooms where it was easier to hear one another speak.

“By proxy only, Lizzy. Please, if there’s anything I can do—”

“Antoinette!”

They both turned in surprise to see Lady Fenton hurrying across the carpet from the direction of the servant’s quarters. She was brushing snow from the serviceable cloak she wore and on her feet were heavy boots.

“Lizzy! You’re here too! Thank goodness.”

“Fanny? What is it? Have you found Amelia?”

Astonished, Lizzy watched the greeting between the sisters. Both seemed in equal states of agitation.

“Disregard Amelia for the moment,” said Lady Fenton in a rush. “I need to take Lizzy with me. Please Lizzy, will you come, and I’ll explain along the way?”

“What? Outside?” Lizzy looked at her dancing slippers and frowned. The woman had clearly taken leave of her senses.

“Yes, I know it’ll take a few minutes for you to dress yourself against the cold,” said Lady Fenton, drawing them away a little from a passing elderly couple. “Mabel has a warm cloak and has gathered together some things for you.”