Page 37 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous (Matchmaking Mischief Makers #2)
C aroline found Venetia in the gated park, where they had arranged to meet. The secluded spot was shielded from the row of townhouses by a copse of elm trees, and as Caroline approached, she was both excited and concerned to see her friend.
Excited because any tidbits about Henry sustained her, and concerned because Venetia sat with hunched shoulders, hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring fixedly at nothing.
“Venetia?” Caroline called softly.
Venetia’s head jerked up, her face a mask of misery. “You came,” she whispered, as if she had doubted it.
“Of course I came.” Caroline settled beside her on the bench, taking one of Venetia’s cold hands. “Your note sounded urgent and ever since you were unable to finish telling me last night of your momentous discovery, I have been unable to think of anything else. What has happened?”
Venetia drew a shuddering breath. “I cannot marry Henry,” she finally said, her voice barely audible.
Caroline felt her heart skip—a treacherous flicker of hope immediately smothered by concern. “What do you mean? The wedding is little more than a week away.”
“I must call it off. Tomorrow.” A tear slipped down Venetia’s cheek. “I have no choice.”
“Who has been threatening you?” Caroline didn’t try to keep the anger from her voice.
“My aunt.” Venetia finally met Caroline’s gaze. “I found the letters from my father, Caroline. Yes! They exist and they were bad enough. And then Aunt Pike showed me more.”
“Love letters?”
Venetia nodded miserably. “They were to be married, it seems. Until my mother… until she…” She faltered, then continued in a rush, “My mother fled to the Continent with child—with me. My father followed out of duty, but they did not marry until after my birth.”
Caroline’s mind raced to comprehend the implications. “You mean—”
“I am illegitimate,” Venetia whispered, the words seeming to physically pain her. “My parents returned from abroad, pretending they had married before my birth. But it was a lie.”
Caroline squeezed Venetia’s hand, barely able to grasp the terrible enormity of such a discovery.
“My aunt has threatened to tell everyone the sordid truth if I do not break my engagement to Henry tomorrow. She says no respectable family would want such a connection.” Venetia’s voice hardened with certainty.
“Windermere said the same on the dance floor last night. And, of course, I know that to be true.”
“Yet Windermere is willing to marry you? Despite… such a revelation?” Caroline asked.
“He says that although he knows the truth, he is willing to marry me despite it.” Venetia gave a bitter laugh. “How magnanimous of him.”
Caroline toyed with her bonnet ribbons, mind whirling with conflicting emotions. Part of her—a part she despised—felt that quiver of hope at the thought of Venetia breaking her engagement. But she had risked too much to protect Venetia from Windermere.
“There must be some way to verify these claims,” she said. “Did your aunt show you proof beyond the letters?”
“What more proof do I need? The letters are in my father’s hand.”
“Love letters, yes, but what of the rest? Where is the proof that your parents were not married before your birth?”
Venetia looked up, a flicker of something—not quite hope—in her eyes. “I… I don’t know. She has only shown me the letters between her and my father.”
“Then we cannot be certain of anything else she claims,” Caroline declared firmly. “Your aunt has always wanted you to marry Windermere. This could be an elaborate deception.”
“But why would she fabricate such a thing?” Venetia gulped. “And how do I tell Henry? Of course, he won’t want to marry me when he knows the truth.”
“But is it the truth?” Caroline shrugged, then shook her head. “Do not, I implore you, break off your betrothal to Henry just because your aunt has been feeding you these… unfounded stories.”
“The rumors are damning enough. We know how mud sticks,” Venetia went on despairingly. “I don’t know how much longer I can resist my aunt and Lord Windermere.”
“Please, Venetia, stay strong a little longer,” Caroline implored her as her friend began to cry.
And then, even though it wasn’t quite true, she added bolsteringly, “Henry and I think we have nearly discovered the reason Windermere wishes to marry a penniless girl.” Oh, dear Lord, she did hope they had. “And then everything will be revealed.”
“You and Henry?” Venetia frowned, then her face lit up. “I cannot believe what wonderful friends you both have been to me. Why, if you truly can discover Windermere’s motivation, I think I shall just have to marry Henry out of gratitude… even though I don’t love him.”
Caroline shifted awkwardly. “Just as long as you don’t marry Windermere. Believe me, Venetia, there is some mysterious reason your aunt and Windermere are working together.” She rose, giving Venetia’s hand one last squeeze. “And I believe we are nearly at the bottom of it.”
*
Caroline left the park feeling more despondent than when she’d arrived. What had she been hoping for? Unless she discovered information that remained aggravatingly elusive, her dearest friend really was on course to marry the man Caroline loved.
Or would be forced to marry Windermere?
She was so deeply engrossed in these thoughts as she trudged the pavements with her maid beside her that she would have missed Henry entirely had he not called out from across the street, “My dear Miss Weston! What a coincidence!”
“Henry!” she called out, not hiding her pleasure. As they were passing a small park, Caroline indicated they step inside the open gates.
“Mary, you can take a gentle stroll to those bushes. Henry and I have much to say to one another.”
To Caroline’s surprise, Mary said diffidently, “’S’cuse me, miss, but your mama were most particular that I do not leave your side if you happened to talk to any gentleman.”
“Good Lord, Mary, Henry is not just any gentleman—”
“Your mama said it was Mister Henry that I was not to leave you alone with,” Mary interrupted miserably. “She was quite particular.”
Caroline could not believe her ears. Henry blushed hotly. “I am sorry your mother does not consider me a proper gentleman, even though she has known me from the cradle.”
“Henry, I am so sorry.” Caroline drew him out of Mary’s earshot. “I know your greatest burden is being so unfairly tarnished—”
“My greatest burden is that I cannot be with you, and that honor will dictate I must marry your best friend rather than you… the only woman I love, the only woman I will ever love.”
He said it matter-of-factly, which conveyed more than passion and poetry would have done.
“Oh, Henry, I would do anything to be with you,” Caroline declared, gripping his hand. “I want to marry you, too, more than anything. But we both know we cannot do that if it leaves Venetia vulnerable to that evil man.”
“The only way we are to be married is if a kind and honorable gentleman offered for Venetia,” Henry said, his arm partially shielding her as if his greatest desire was to enfold her in his arms. “A man prepared to accept her without a dowry. A man who would accept her, knowing that she—”
“It’s all lies!” Caroline declared hotly before realizing she’d nearly revealed Venetia’s confidence regarding her aunt’s declaration of her illegitimacy.
“That she does not love him?” Henry asked.
“Oh, that is not a lie. No, Henry, everything else swirling around is a lie, and I am in despair that she will accept either Windermere, or follow through with marriage to you.”
Henry looked as grim as she felt. “If only some unknown gentleman, madly in love with her but unable to declare himself, would present himself. But with Venetia’s family so disconnected from anyone of influence, and with her lack of dowry, I’d say that was well nigh impossible.
” He made a noise of frustration. “We haven’t even been able to ask Mr. Rothbury about the vague possibility he knows something about Venetia’s family that might throw light on the matter. The man has been most elusive.”
Mary, who had edged closer despite Caroline’s request, cleared her throat nervously.
“Beggin’ your pardon, miss, sir, but I couldn’t help overhearin’…
” She twisted her apron. “It’s just that my cousin Betsy, who works for the Rothburys, says her master—Mr. Edward Rothbury—he has a likeness of Miss Playford in his study.
Don’t know why it’s there but in view of yer mentioning the gentleman, just thought I’d bring it up. ”
Caroline and Henry turned to stare at her, momentarily speechless.
“And Betsy says,” Mary continued, emboldened by their attention, “that old Mr. Rothbury, before he met his maker, was thick as thieves with Miss Playford’s father and that Miss Playford’s father was as rich as Croesus.
Mr. Rothbury managed his accounts or some such.
Betsy says the young Mr. Rothbury’s as honorable a gentleman as ever lived, and all them what works for him says so.
Never raises his voice, pays fair wages, and keeps to himself mostly.
” She dropped her eyes. “Not that I were eavesdropping, but I just thought his interest in Miss Playford might be worth knowin’, is all. ”
Caroline put her hands to her cheeks as she turned glowing eyes towards Henry.
“Why did I not insist that my sister-in-law accompany me to Mr. Rothbury’s residence to quiz him when we first heard of the connection?” she asked.
“Because there really didn’t seem much that he could help us with, considering he was only a lad who probably knew nothing since he joined the navy when he was fourteen,” said Henry. And although his tone was measured, Caroline could see he was growing excited.
“But, if what Mary tells us is true,” he said, turning to smile at Caroline’s maid, “it would appear that Mr. Rothbury has a great deal more interest in Venetia than would be expected on such minimal acquaintance.”
Caroline squeezed his hands, then, after a quick look about to ensure they were unobserved, launched herself into his arms.
“Oh, my darling Henry, we are on the cusp of discovery, I truly believe it!” she cried.
“I think we are far from the cusp, dear girl, but we are considerably closer,” Henry cautiously agreed.
“And I think the sooner you can persuade Amelia—who really is a good sort—to take you with her to visit Mr. Rothbury, the sooner we can get to the bottom of all this. Now, Mary—” He motioned to the little maid.
“Please turn your head away for just five seconds and promise you won’t tell Caroline’s mama you’ve seen me with her.
Not that it’ll matter since we’ll be married within the month, come hell or high water! ”
And with that marvelously earth-shatteringly wonderful promise ringing in her ears, Caroline happily succumbed as Henry kissed her deeply and thoroughly upon the lips.