Prologue
London,
March, 1818
Nicolas Westfall paced the front hall of his middle daughter’s Mayfair home, attempting to rein in his temper. Fanny had done it again. Offending an important member of society was no laughing matter. Memories of such impudence lasted years and Nicolas had another daughter to think about too.
Fanny rushed down the stairs of her residence to greet him, smiling widely as she came but he’d bet she was dreading the coming inevitable confrontation over her behavior. She had to know why he’d come. “Father, what an unexpected surprise.”
Nicolas regarded Fanny with exasperation. Of all his daughters, he had a soft spot for her, even if she was the most troublesome of the bunch. She reminded him of his late wife in so many ways. Impulsive, exuberant, and unmindful of many of the rules of society.
Thankfully, Fanny still squirmed under his scrutiny the way she had since a little girl, and that gave him hope that she might listen to his counsel. After all, she was too old to take over his knee to deliver her the scolding she deserved. “Fanny.”
“I thought you were still at home in the country,” she exclaimed pausing several feet away.
“I had unexpected business in Town.” He held open his arms. “Come here, Fanny girl. Give your old father a squeeze before I must scold you.”
He always tried to prepare his children for when he needed to shout at them. They had no mother. Just Nicolas. He loved them but did not always approve of their choices.
Fanny hurried across the room, hugged him tightly for as long as possible and then slowly drew away from him. She winced. “It is not as terrible a scandal as everyone is saying. Gossip is almost always a vast embellishment of the truth.”
He snorted. “You called the Duchess of Lowell an ill-bred old goat…”
“Without a shred of human kindness or decency,” Fanny finished for him. “Yes, I admit I said that.”
There were other slanderous remarks she’d made too, but she would only admit to the rest if Nicolas mentioned them first. He knew his daughter well. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Finding a replacement governess for his youngest daughter will have to wait until another day. “Regardless of whether it is true or not you should not have said any of that in a public place,” he complained.
“But father it was terrible,” she protested. “I couldn’t sit idly by while a kind and gentle woman was so ill-used by that woman.”
“I’m sure to you it was a grave indignity, but it was none of your concern. Why must you meddle in the affairs of those who can harm your reputation?”
“Well, it had to be someone’s concern,” Fanny protested. “The way some servants are treated makes my blood boil. I have no regrets. Not one.”
She never did. Nicolas hooked her arm through his firmly and led Fanny along to her upstairs parlor. “I’m sure you see it that way, but others most certainly do not. I had dinner at my club last night and the silence on my arrival was extremely awkward, to say the least. Lowell was there and stormed out. You know I like him. Now tell me everything about the encounter from the beginning,” he demanded. “I’ll do my best to repair the damage you’ve done if I can.”
Fanny explained what she’d found: a governess harried and abused at a coaching inn where she’d stopped for luncheon the previous week. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story. Those with power often used it ill.
“Do you know the worst of it? Despite her efforts to please them, despite the beating she received with a parasol no less, Lady Lowell dismissed her there and then. They didn’t care if they stranded her in that god-forsaken place. She would have had no position, no reference, and no hope of improving her situation or recovering her possessions from the country.”
Fanny was the impulsive one, but she had a great heart for those with less than herself. Which amounted to nearly everyone she met, unfortunately. His daughter had been left a vast fortune by her late husband but thankfully had the brains to manage it competently herself. He suspected her habit of rescuing outcasts was borne out of a want of love in her life. Not for the first time did he wish her marriage had burdened her with children of her own.
“So you brought another stray home with you? I really hoped you would grow out of that habit.” He sighed. “What were you doing at the inn in the first place?”
“I was returning from a picnic with friends.” She looked up at him, her large eyes full of hope. “She is really very lovely. Kind. Not at all forward. Very quiet indeed.”