my charms, Alyssa thought, frowning as she remembered Tawny’s warning.
‘Surely, my dear, out of all the single men about, you might find one to your liking. Is it so wrong of me to want to see you wed and settled, with a house of your own and children?’
Alyssa noted her mother wasn’t hypocritical enough to add ‘happy’ to that description—her mama’s own marriage having given her little reason to expect wedded bliss for her daughter. ‘You never give up hope, do you, Mama?’
‘It would be so much better, if you could find a kind man you could tolerate as a husband,’ her mother said coaxingly.
‘Better than living under Papa’s thumb,’ she admitted. In the face of her father’s stern, tyrannical rule, her mother had always been too timid to please him, she too rebellious. Or rather, she had tried to please him when she was little, before she realised earning his approval was impossible. Since the incident three years ago, they’d regarded each other with active hostility.
‘But if I married, my new husband would get control over Aunt Augusta’s money, so I still wouldn’t be able to use it for what I want.’
The ability to live independently and pursue her heart’s calling.
‘Yes, but you would have friends and society around you—rather than being alone and isolated in that cottage you talk about! And you know Papa will not let you use the funds for that. Only think of the scandal, an earl’s unmarried daughter living all on her own!’
Alyssa sighed, unable to dispute the truth of that. With her father named a trustee on the fund, unless she married, she’d need his approval to access the money. As of now, she’d not figured out a way to convince him to allow her to set up a separate household, which is why she had not, yet, approached him with her intention to do so.
‘I expect I shall devise some way to bring Papa around. In any event, with luck, he’ll predecease me.’
‘I don’t know,’ her mama said. ‘The Lambornnes are distressingly long-lived.’
Sadly, Alyssa had to admit the truth of that daunting observation. Would there still be time for her to make a life for herself and accomplish the work that drove her, if she truly couldn’t begin until after Papa died?
She must come up with a better alternative than waiting for the Earl of Aldermont to cock up his toes.
First, though, she needed to deal with this despicable wager.
Due to Mr Tawny’s unexpected appearance, she’d not finished her drawing today. Over the summer, she had completed twenty more watercolours and needed only a few more to be able to contact Mr Waterman in London about putting together that colourised book of English birds he’d expressed such enthusiasm about to Will. If she could just get her hands on her money, so she might travel to the more remote regions and finish the final sketches before the deadline he’d given...
With Will gone, she’d need to find someone else to approach the publisher on her behalf, she thought, the familiar, sharp wave of grief sweeping through her.
I will finish the sketches and get them published, as you would have wanted, she silently promised him.
Then Molly was back, fitting her into one of the explosions of lace, ribbons and ruffles her mama so adored. Since, in her opinion, the enormous sleeves and ballooning skirts made her look ridiculous—almost as wide as she was tall, she’d overhead one malicious maiden remarking—it was fortunate she had no desire to attract any of the eligible swains gathered for this party.
Tapes and pins secured, she told her mama, ‘I’m going to stop by the library. I’ll see you in the drawing room.’ Giving her mother a kiss, she hurried out before Lady Aldermont could object.
* * *
Hoping to catch her host before the party gathered in the parlour, Alyssa slipped down the stairs. As she entered the library, the latest London paper caught her eye. Which, quite fortuitously, carried a lengthy story on the progress of the Reform Bill.
Snatching it up, she scanned the article. It seemed the bill, having passed the Commons in late September, was sent on to the Lords. Contrary to the expectations of its supporters and an agitated populace, instead of winning approval in the upper house, the Lords Spiritual—upper clergy who had votes in that hereditary body—summoned enough members to defeat it. The result had been riots in many areas of the country and Lord Grey pressing the King to prorogue Parliament so a new session could be summoned in December.
Not until the very end did she find what she sought: a list of the most prominent members of the Reform committee. Which included all four of those Oxford friends she remembered her brother calling ‘Hadley’s Hellions’: Giles Hadley, Viscount Lyndlington, David Tanner Smith, Christopher Lattimar—and Benedict Tawny.
She’d just finished the article when her host walked in. ‘Lady Alyssa!’ he cried, halting in surprise on the threshold.
She rose and curtsied. ‘Lord Fulton, I hope you’ll forgive my invading your library.’
‘Of course, my dear. Can I assist you with something?’
‘I was just reading the latest London paper. Have you followed the debate on the Reform Bill? There’s quite a lengthy article.’
He gave her an odd look. ‘That’s not a topic generally of much interest to ladies.’
‘Truly? I found the discussion fascinating! Are you acquainted with any of the movement’s leaders?’ she asked, tapping the list in the paper. ‘I find myself wondering what manner of man would support such a...drastic initiative.’
‘I’ve not been much involved, myself,’ he admitted, gazing down at the names she indicated. ‘Hmm...all four of them outsiders from society, which might explain their radical views.’
‘Outsiders? In what way?’
‘Hadley, the son of the Earl of Telbridge, was estranged from his father for years, after his father divorced his mother, but they’ve recently reconciled. David Tanner Smith...quite the scandal there! A commoner, he recently shocked society by marrying the widowed Duchess of Ashedon, though he is, it must be admitted, a good friend of her family. Lattimar...father is Lord Vraux, although it’s well known that’s not his real father. Five children and probably only the eldest was sired by the baron! Benedict Tawny...not sure I know that name.’
Before she could suppress her disappointment, he said, ‘Now wait, I do remember. Born on the wrong side of the blanket, but his father, Viscount Chilford, later took him up and sponsored him in Parliament.’
‘Does he resemble his father in appearance—is that why the Viscount decided to recognise him?’ she probed.
‘Chilford’s a member of my club. Can’t say as I’ve met the son, but I’ve heard the boy favours him. Tall, dark-haired, green eyes. Quite a magnet for the ladies. A group of rogues, all in all.’ Lord Fulton chuckled. ‘M’wife would blister my ears for repeating such scandalous gossip to an innocent like you!’
‘I’ll not mention we spoke of it!’ Alyssa promised as she tucked away the details.
Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed and a magnet for the ladies?
The
