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A dim light shone through the window as they approached but the house was gloomy when he opened the door, and he was suddenly conscious of the smell of mustiness that he’d never noticed when Jane was alive. She’d been much better about managing the servants who, he knew, took advantage wherever they could.

“Mrs Rice will see to Mabel, and then she can find you something to wear and draw you a bath. You are about Jane’s height and size. That’s if all her clothes haven’t been bartered from under my nose.”

A brief look of outrage crossed Mrs Rice’s face, but she said nothing as she acceded to her master’s wishes and disappeared with Mabel in her wake while Theodore exhorted Miss Scott to warm herself in front of the fire in the meantime.

“And you’ll need this after your ordeal, I don’t doubt,” he said, removing the stopper from the brandy decanter that sat upon the sideboard. He poured them both a generous tot for he certainly needed to fortify himself for what was ahead.

A young female under his roof? He hoped very much she was not inclined to advertise their situation when it would reflect on her reputation with possibly more dire consequences than it would for him. Though it seemed nothing he did these days failed to attract opprobrium.

He’d barely seated himself in a chair before the fire, nursing his brandy thoughtfully, before she turned and thrust out her now-empty glass, saying with relish, “That was good. No wonder Mrs Hodge is so partial to it. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I had another.” She smiled, and added ingratiatingly, “In view of the fact that it is entirely due to you that I am placed in this very difficult situation.”

Theodore made a noise like a growl as he rose, reluctantly. “You have made mention of this fact. Did I not make it clear that it was the youngster I was teaching to shoot who should really be brought to task?”

“But you were the adult, and the teacher, I believe,” she said, taking the glass he handed her. “Not that I’m sorry for being here, like I said. It really is far more exciting than the alternative, and I wish I could stay here forever.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though I would have a word to the servants. I think your sister perhaps kept them in better order than you do, if you don’t mind my saying so, Mr McAlister.”

Theo observed her as she ran an obviously critical eye around his parlour. Her complexion was good; her hair a rich, golden colour, he suspected, though it was difficult to tell with her hair still damp. And while her teeth were pretty, a crooked eye tooth marred their perfection, though he thought it added to, rather than detracted from, her charm.

Leaning forward as he chastised himself for thinking along these lines, he tossed another log on the fire. “No doubt, for a schoolroom chit, you are well practised at keeping house.”

The combative flash in her eye was at such odds with the bedraggled chit of a girl she presented—pretty, notwithstanding—Theodore made no trouble to hide the sceptical roll of his eye which immediately drew her ire.

“Oh, I am not to be underestimated, sir. I hope you remember that.” She turned away from the fire and drew herself up to her full height, which was not too much over five feet, as she put her hands on her slim hips. It really was rather a stretch to imagine she was about to take a walk down the aisle, but he remembered how different Jane and her two young friends looked the last time they returned from the Ladies Seminary, only to be transformed by silks and feathers and jewels into veritable swans. It had certainly taken him by surprise.

“Mrs Hodge made that mistake, so I’d advise you to take care, Mr McAlister.” Miss Scott scanned her surroundings as if she were suddenly looking for something before asking him abruptly, “What is it that you do, sir? You are not independently wealthy, it would appear, and yet I doubt you are in trade. Ever since we met I’ve been trying to work you out.”

Theodore stretched out his booted feet and regarded her from beneath lowered lids. The girl was too impertinent for her own good.

“I’m a fortune hunter,” he said.

She nodded as if this were a perfectly acceptable calling. “So is the man I have all but agreed I shall marry. His house is in a pleasant location and in need of renovation. My fortune will enable that to happen, and I will be mistress of a fair estate, and wife to someone I consider sufficiently personable to make tolerable happiness an expectation. Mrs Hodge is determined that I marry him but I’m looking forward to a little more choice during this following week.” She sighed. “Sadly, if I have nothing to wear but rags, no one will pay me the slightest attention. That’s if Mrs Hodge will even allow me out of my bedchamber as she’ll say I’m a pitiful reflection of her good offices and all the expense she’s lavished on me. Expense! It’s my allowance which she keeps!”

“Do you really have a fortune?” Theodore asked, crossing one leg over the other and settling back into his chair. Despite himself, he was starting to enjoy the conversation.

“I’m vastly rich. Or rather, my husband will be since it will all go to him unless I’m prepared to wait until I’m twenty-five if only to enjoy it as a single woman. And since that would mean at least another six years enduring Mrs Hodge, I think I’d rather find a fortun

e-hunting husband with whom I can arrange something suitable.” She turned her back so that the front of her torn gown was now getting the benefit of the warmth from the flames. “And why are you a fortune hunter, Mr McAlister? Are you a gambler? Most men are. I have been very particular about the fact that I will not marry a gambler.”

“’Ere then, Miss. Yer bath is ready, an’ I found yer some things wot belonged ter Miss Mary.” Mrs Rice stood in the doorway and beckoned to Miss Scott. “It ain’t right that yer be 'obknobbing all alone with a strange gennulman like me Mr McAlister. If yer were me daughter I’d be right upset 'bout it.”

“Since I’m nobody’s daughter and don’t belong to anybody, that’s fortunate indeed,” said Miss Scott with an impish smile and a curtsey for Theodore.

“I’ll see you in the morning then, Miss Scott. Mrs Rice will see you to your room.”

She paused in the doorway, clearly reluctant to leave him or the warmth.

“I might just come downstairs for another little brandy, I think, Mr McAlister. The terrible shock you’ve caused me has all but destroyed my nerves, and I found that brandy you gave me quite fortifying,” she added brightly.

Chapter 3

“Ah, Fanny! Miss Scott has not yet arrived?”

Fanny smiled up at her husband who’d just put his head around the door, and seeing his wife not in company with Mrs Hodge, obviously now deemed it safe to enter.

“No doubt they’ve spent the night on the road,” she said, patting the sofa beside her. “Mrs Hodge seemed unconcerned.”

“Mrs Hodge is unconcerned about anything other than that which profits her. I always wondered at the attraction she held for Jeremy, though I suspect he took a perverse pleasure in being ordered about.” He sighed as he sank into the cushions beside Fanny, adding, “Just like me,” as he obediently brushed his fingers over the bare skin of Fanny’s neck which she had presented to him in invitation.

“A little higher, darling.” Fanny closed her eyes in pleasure as Fenton’s clever fingers insinuated themselves beneath her ruby choker. She’d dressed to impress that night, despite the fact that the guests in residence were few. The majority would arrive the following day for a five-night visit. Tonight, however, there were just Mrs Hodge, Lord Loxton, and Reverend Snell, in addition to members of the household: Fanny’s sister Antoinette and her husband Lord Quamby.


Tags: Beverley Oakley Historical