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Story: A Token of Love (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #8)
“E llen’s right. If Mrs. Rutledge loves you, then that is all she needs,” Diana agreed.
“Offer her yourself and your love and you will have offered her the most precious gift,” Lady Ayres nodded.
“But… but is that enough? I’m not—” he stuttered.
“If it is not, she is not the woman you should marry, sir,” Lady Gorling stated.
Everyone agreed.
“Do you… do you think she might be willing to accept merely… me?” he asked incredulously.
“Well, it might help if you were willing to move to America with her,” Ellen offered. “You know that is what she wants to do. She is bound here only by her inheritance.”
“Yes! Yes, you are right. She does want to move back to Boston, or wherever it is, but said that she cannot do so until she figures out a way to take her inheritance with her,” he said becoming rather excited. “But with me, she wouldn’t need her inheritance. I would support her.”
“You are a wealthy man,” the duchess agreed.
“I am… although, if I move to America… I suppose my son could take over my operations here. I, er, do have a business to run, you know.”
“From what I hear, Gwendolyn is extremely talented in that direction as well,” Lady Sorrell commented.
A smile spread across the gentleman’s face. “She is. She really is. Much more so than Harold. Sadly, it would need to stay in his name, however.”
“Of course,” Lady Blakemore said.
His smile faltered a touch. His gaze wandered to the ceiling as he thought things through. “If I went with Mrs. Rutledge to America, leaving my factory here to my children…”
They all waited patiently for him to work things out in his mind. “I’m not certain what I would do there. I’m afraid I have no interest in politics, and I cannot see myself simply doing nothing. I’m really not a gentleman of leisure. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve worked my entire life.”
“Why don’t you start a business there?” Lydia asked.
“A business? A factory! A cloth-making factory! Of course! I have been importing American cotton for years! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” he exclaimed.
Everyone turned and congratulated Lydia on her excellent idea. She just laughed and said, “It seemed like the most obvious thing to me. Perhaps Mr. Sherman’s good sense was too befuddled with his love for Mrs. Rutledge.”
Mr. Sherman chuckled at that. “Yes, yes. I think you may be right.”
“But what about Lord Pennyston’s building?” Ellen asked. She turned to the other ladies. “From what I understand, its sale is contingent upon Lord Pennyston having ready cash to invest in Mr. Fitzwalter’s business,” Ellen explained, recalling their conversation at her dinner party only days ago.
“What is this business of his? I’ve heard people talking of how Fitzwalter has been trying to find investors, but I don’t know what it is,” Mr. Sherman asked.
“He wants to import spices from India,” Diana explained.
“Oh! Well, that sounds like a fine idea. Don’t know that I’d invest in it myself. No hard feelings toward Fitzwalter, but well, quite a bit of competition for cotton from those parts,” Mr. Sherman explained.
“Of course,” Lady Blakemore said quickly. “However, while you may not want to invest directly yourself…”
“Lord Pennyston would like to, but seems to be short on cash,” Diana finished when the lady paused. She looked to Ellen and Lydia for confirmation of her assumption. They both nodded their agreement.
“Oh, yes, I see.” Sherman stroked his chin. “Is there a reason why you are all so keen on seeing Mr. Fitzwalter’s business funded? Is he a particular friend?”
Lady Sorrell spoke up. “He is a particular friend of mine—or, well, of my sister’s. I’m certain you’ve noticed that he’s taken a particular interest in her?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t usually pay much attention to who gentlemen are courting unless, of course, it is my daughter.” He gave them an apologetic smile.
“Of course. Well, Mr. Fitzwalter and my sister have a particular interest in each other, but I believe he is waiting until his business is funded before he can propose,” Lady Sorrell explained.
“In light of that, might you perhaps consider buying the building, anyway?” Ellen suggested. “And keeping it as it is.”
“That’s a rather complicated situation. You want me to buy a building, so Pennyston can fund Fitzwalter’s business, so he can propose to Lady Sorrell’s sister,” the gentleman said, clearly working things out in his own head.
“Yes,” Lady Gorling said. “You’ve got it exactly right.”
He shook his head and gave a little chuckle. “Well… it is rather too run-down for a hospital—in my opinion,” Mr. Sherman offered.
“But it is better than not having a hospital at all,” Ellen pointed out.
“Not if the alternative is fixing it up to be a better hospital,” Lady Gorling argued.
Ellen’s mouth dropped open at that.
“Would you be willing to be so generous?” Lady Ayres asked, turning from Lady Gorling to Mr. Sherman.
“It would be an excellent philanthropic opportunity,” Lady Gorling said.
“A philanthropic... doesn't sound—” he started.
“A perfect opportunity for Miss Sherman to be seen as a generous, contributing member of society—if you put her in charge of the project, of course,” the duchess added, giving Lady Gorling an approving smile.
He paused to look around the room at the women all staring eagerly at him.
“Yes, yes, it would,” he agreed. “Considering you’ve all just given me a way to be with the woman I love and earn even more money, I do believe I could do that—as my thanks to you all.”
Ellen clasped her hands together to keep from clapping outright. “Really?”
“I’ll have my solicitor get in touch with Lord Pennyston tomorrow.”
Mr. Sherman left a happy man. Ellen glanced over to Lady Sorrell and noticed that he wasn’t the only one looking so pleased. The lady had a smile on her face and a distinct twinkle in her eye.
“Well, that worked out a great deal better than I expected,” the duchess commented.
“Better than any of us thought it would,” Lady Ayres agreed.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am…” Lady Sorrell began.
“As am I!” Ellen agreed. “Not only will the hospital stay, but it will get some much-needed repairs.”
“Everyone has won this card game,” Lydia said with a laugh.
“Not everyone,” Lady Gorling said, making all eyes turn to her once more. “It may be closing the barn door after the horse has already escaped, but are we going to continue offering romantic advice to anyone who happens to come asking for it?”
Silence greeted her words as all the women considered her question.
“When it was someone associated with the group, I could see that we would. You might even consider that we, as members, pay for the privilege by disclosing our secrets. But what about those who aren’t members?
“Like Mr. Sherman,” Lydia commented.
“But his problem with Mrs. Rutledge directly impacts both Lady Moreton and Lady Sorrell’s sister,” Diana pointed out.
“I acknowledge that, which is why I didn’t say anything earlier,” Lady Gorling said. “But my question still stands.”
“Do you believe we should stop helping people?” the duchess asked.
“Or charge a price for doing so?” Lady Blakemore added. The duchess nodded her agreement with the lady’s question.
“Yes. We pay with our secrets. I believe others should do the same—if they are not associated with someone who has already done so as a member of the group,” Lady Gorling stated.
“I think we need a vote,” Lady Sorrell said.
“Indeed. All those in favor of asking for a secret as payment for our assistance with a relationship say ‘aye’,” Lady Ayres called out above a few others who’d begun talking quietly.
Lady Gorling, Duchess Bolton, Lady Ayres, Lady Sorrell, and Diana all said, “Aye.”
“Nay?” Lady Ayres asked.
Lady Blakemore, Lydia, and Ellen voiced their nays, despite the fact that it was clear which side had won already.
“Well, goodness! We are nearly evenly split,” Lady Ayres said, sitting back in surprise.
“But it does seem as if the ayes have it,” Lady Gorling pointed out.
“Yes. So, from now on if someone applies to us for assistance, we will ask them for payment in advance,” Duchess Bolton said.
There was general agreement, mixed with obvious reservations even from those who’d voted in favor.
~May 20~
Christopher stood in front of his wardrobe for a full five minutes, contemplating the coats hanging there. He was half dressed in his shirt and breeches but couldn’t decide on which coat or waistcoat to wear.
“Somethin’ wrong, Major?” Freddie asked, coming up behind him. He’d come in stomping his cane noisily because he knew better than to sneak up on an officer.
“No, no, I’m trying to decide what to wear today,” Christopher told his new valet.
Freddie turned from the coats to face his employer. “Somethin’ special happening?”
“Yes. I’m taking Lady Moreton to the panorama at Leicester Square.”
A smile spread wide across the batman’s face. “Oh-ho! I hear they ’ave you walk through the dark to see it. Quite the romantic excursion.” He chuckled as he turned back to surveying Christopher’s coats.
“It would be except for the fact that I’m taking her to show her the beauty of traveling, so she can go off with her husband.”
“Her what, now?” Freddie was staring at him again—coats forgotten.
“Her husband. He’s come back from the dead. He’s leaving again as soon as his affairs are in order to travel the world. He’s, naturally, invited Lady Moreton to join him,” Christopher explained.
“And yer takin’ her to the panorama to convince her to go?” Freddie asked this as if he were daft, and Christopher couldn’t help but wonder the same.
“It is the right thing to do,” he sighed.
Freddie just shook his head and walked away. He came back a moment later and threw a neckcloth around Christopher’s shirt collar. For a brief moment, Christopher wondered if his valet was going to attempt to strangle him with it. He wouldn’t put it past the man, and truly, he almost thought he deserved it. Had any man gotten himself into a worse situation? He couldn’t imagine so.
That afternoon at precisely half-past two, he arrived at Moreton House in his carriage to pick up Lady Moreton. She was prompt as always and looking quite fetching in a soft green gown with a darker green pelisse. Her hat was adorned with a tasteful ribbon of a matching color.
“Thank you so much for offering to take me on this outing, my lord,” she said as she pulled on her gloves and prepared to leave the house.
“Of course. It’s my pleasure. Er, will your chaperone be joining us?” he asked with a little trepidation. He appreciated the lady’s discretion but would be much happier without her constant surveillance.
“No. She didn’t think she could stomach a panorama. My maid will sit up with your groom, if you don’t mind.” Christopher was very pleased to see that Lady Moreton seemed to be as happy with this arrangement as he.
He handed her into the carriage in a much better mood than he’d been in that morning. Somehow, being with her always made him feel good.
They arrived in Leicester Square to behold the impressive round building that housed the panorama. People of all walks of life were seen coming and going.
“Have you ever been to a panorama before?” Lady Moreton asked, sounding a touch nervous.
“No, but I’ve heard magnificent things about them. I take it you haven’t, either?” he asked just to be certain.
She just shook her head.
Christopher paid the entrance fee and then handed Lady Moreton her copy of the pamphlet that described what they were to see. It provided an interesting, if brief, history and description of Malta.
“It does sound quite fascinating,” Lady Moreton admitted, looking up from her reading.
“Indeed,” Christopher agreed.
“But you’ve actually been,” she said, as if suddenly remembering the fact.
“Yes, but I admit to being curious as to how it will be depicted. It’s a beautiful place. But let’s see it, shall we? Rather than simply reading about it or discussing it.” He ushered her through the door.