The next daySusan was in the middle of ripping out the stitches she’d done on the embroidery she had been working on the day that Lord Seabury had called, and the whole horrible chain of events had begun, when a knock sounded downstairs. Her heart skipped several beats, and — for a moment — she foolishly allowed herself to hope that the visitor would turn out to be Lord Seabury.
She set her embroidery work aside, leaving it perched on the arm of the settee on her way out of the parlour. The thought that the visitor might be the Count D’Asti calling again occurred to Susan then, and her stomach promptly dropped to her feet at the thought.
Williams opened the door as Susan was making her way down the stairs. Her steps faltered when she spied the Bow Street Runner waiting outside.
She turned to a footman who happened to be on his way up the stairs with a tray of biscuits.
“Will you please let Lady Gainsbourne know that I am in need of a chaperone? Mr. Stephens from the Bow Street Runners is here to speak with me, but Lord Billington is away, and it would not be proper for me to speak with Mr. Stephens without a chaperone present.”
The footman nodded vigorously and the plate of biscuits in his hand wobbled dangerously as he did so, a mistake which he corrected immediately.
“Right away, Miss Wingfield.”
Susan found her footing, then, and made her way the rest of the way down the stairs, pausing in the entrance hall as the butler let Mr. Stephens inside. Williams hovered between them, keeping a watchful eye on Susan until her mother appeared and hurried down the stairs to join them.
The Viscountess turned to the butler, then.
“Is there somewhere that Susan and I can speak with Mr. Stephens privately?”
The butler nodded, but paused a moment and cleared his throat.
“Would the library do, Lady Gainsbourne?”
“Of course, that would be perfect, Williams. Thank you.” Susan’s mother smiled.
The butler bowed, then, and indicated that Susan, her mother, and Mr. Stephens should follow him down the hall to the library. He opened the door for them and waved the trio inside.
“I will see to it that you are not disturbed.”
The butler closed the door behind the three of them with a nod and Susan wrung her hands as she faced Mr. Stephens.
“What news?”
The question came out brittle and breathless.
Mr. Stephens removed his top hat, then, and tucked it under his arm as he faced Susan and Lady Gainsbourne.
“It would seem that your suspicions regarding the Count D’Asti may have been warranted, after all, Miss Wingfield.”
Susan and her mother gasped in unison, exchanging a quick, wide-eyed look with one another before returning their collective attention to Mr. Stephens.
“Oh?” Lady Gainsbourne prompted, suddenly seeming as eager as Susan to hear whatever news Mr. Stephens had to share with them.
Susan leaned forward, holding her breath so that she would not miss a single word of what the Bow Street Runner had to say.
“While the Count D’Asti comes from a long line of honourable men, it seems that the Count has made some mistakes, and some rather tragic business decisions, in recent years. I was able to uncover that, though generally well-intentioned, the Count D’Asti currently has some quite deep and urgent debts to repay. I suspect that at least part of the reason he is pursuing his rumoured betrothal to you has to do with him being in desperate need of a wealthy wife to help clear his debts and put his estates — both in England and in Italy — to rights.”
Mr. Stephens winced, then, as if he half expected Susan to be upset by this news, and perhaps expected her to take her anger out on him for being the bearer of bad news.
Susan offered Mr. Stephens a reassuring smile.
“I am so relieved to know the truth!”
“You are?”
Lady Gainsbourne and Mr. Stephens asked the question in unison, as if both of them had momentarily forgotten that Susan did not want to marry the Count D’Asti.
“Of course I am!” Susan squeezed her mother’s arm lightly. “I knew that the Count’s pursuit of me made absolutely no sense, especially in light of my reaction to learning of his existence when he first arrived in London and announced himself as my betrothed. He knew that I did not want him, that my affections lie elsewhere. His continued pursuit of me, after learning that, made very little sense, but now it is all falling into place. Our family has a good income because of the coal which was discovered on the property father willed to Georgiana, and on top of that, Edward has settled rather decent dowries on both me and Eliza. He has debts and needs money, which we have a significant amount of, now.”
Realisation dawned on Lady Gainsbourne’s face, then, and she instantly scowled when she realised that the Count was only pursuing Susan as a way to solve his financial problems.
“Do you think that he is the one who started the rumour of your supposed betrothal to one another?”
“I do not know.” Susan pressed her lips together until she thought they might bruise, and squared her shoulders. “But since he has ruined — perhaps forever — my chances with Lord Seabury, the man I truly love, I certainly wish to confront the Count and find out.”
Lady Gainsbourne pressed her knuckles against her lips, shaking her head.
“I cannot believe that Georgiana and I thought his only fault was that he is not Lord Seabury. To find out that he was, essentially, trying to trap you into a marriage he knows you do not want, in order to solve his problems with money? It’s positively horrifying, but I do not know if confronting him is the best idea, dearest.”
“Perhaps not,” Susan groaned, rubbing at her temples in an effort to fight off the headache which she could feel building there. She turned her gaze back to Mr. Stephens. “Thank you for your services in uncovering this information. I cannot adequately express the depth of my gratitude to you.”