Page 78 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl

Her father certainly hadn’t worried about his family. And yet... The thought of her destitute and alone had recently reared its ugly head and he found it disturbing.

‘I will buy a house, somewhere close to the sea. I have always wanted to live near the coast. And if there is anything left over, perhaps invest it.’

‘So you will not continue as a cook?’

‘I will continue cooking for myself. I suppose it will depend on whether I will have enough to live on, as to whether I will hire out to cook for others.’

Wouldn’t humiliating her family be enough of a revenge? After all, she had not been directly involved in his family’s downfall. Did he really need to ruin her utterly?

Devil take it, he did not need to be having second thoughts at this stage of his plan. Everything was set. Nothing would stop it now. Nor did he want to.

Well, he might want to, but that would be letting his family down, yet again. By being selfish. By thinking about himself instead of thinking of them. The guilt from his decision not to take the risk of imprisonment, a risk that if successful would have saved his family, was a heavy weight in his chest. The only way he could make up for it in some small measure was to keep his promise.

‘I see,’ he said steering them through the busy streets of Mayfair and to the entrance of Hyde Park.

Carriages were lined up along the street waiting their turn to enter.

‘It is busy today.’

‘The dry weather has brought everyone out.’

It was dry and crisp, if somewhat smoky from all the surrounding chimneys.

They followed a barouche through the gate and made their way along Rotten Row. Several gentlemen on foot tipped their hats when they saw him. These were men who had visited Rake Hall, but he also knew them from White’s, a far more respectable gentlemen’s club.

He waved a hand in greeting.

When their gazes fell on Pamela, however, their expressions turned puzzled. Would they eventually realise where they had seen hiscousinpreviously?

He hoped not. Not yet.

A young couple waved a greeting. Long and a young lady, with her maid trailing them at a discreet distance.

‘Dart,’ the young man said.

Damian leaned down to shake his offered hand.

‘Have you met my fiancée, Miss Frome?’

A fiancée. This was news. ‘I have not had the pleasure. Miss Frome, I am honoured.’ He bowed to the lady. ‘Allow me to introduce my cousin, Mrs Clark.’

Pamela inclined her head.

Long, all smiles, bowed and Miss Frome dipped a curtsy. ‘Pleased to meet you, Madam,’ Long said with not a glimmer of recognition. He grinned shyly. ‘I received your invitation to your ball, Dart. I did not expect it.’

‘Did you not?’ Damian said. ‘I cannot think why.’

The young man looked relieved and slightly embarrassed. ‘I was wondering if you would also invite Miss Frome.’

Whereas Damian could not have been more delighted. ‘Of course. If you would be good enough to furnish me with your address, Miss Frome, it will be my very great pleasure to send you and of course your parents an invitation.’

The young woman blushed and handed over her calling card. ‘You will find Father inDebrett’s,’ she said primly.

Pamala was delighted that Damian had invited Long. Since their altercation in Rake Hell, he had been back only a few times and was more subdued and polite towards her, having imbibed less of his drink, clearly atoning for his awful behaviour that night, although he had not been seen there recently. Likely because of his engagement.

Perhaps he deemed that he had sown all of the wild oats and now it was time to settle down. He was one of those who initially had been getting deeper and deeper into debt. One of those on Damian’s list.

They bid the young couple farewell and the carriage moved on.