The cold grip of worry enveloped Gillian’s heart. She hadn’t any extra money. How was she to manage this? Keeping the panic out of her voice, she offered a calm, “I did not know that.”
“I did not tell you in order to worry you,” Mrs. Brownlow said. “On the table beside you is a reticule. Inside, you will find money enough for your obligations to the staff, enough for your journey there, and a little bit extra should the house party choose to make a journey to a nearby village so the ladies can undertake a bit of shopping on the high street.”
Gratitude warred with embarrassment inside her. “You have already done so much for me over the years. I confess, I feel guilty that you are providing me with yet more funds. You already give me pocket money during the Season.”
Mrs. Brownlow squeezed her hand. “Neither that nor this is done out of obligation. If Houghton Manor and its income weren’t entailed to the Brownlow family, I would leave the entirety of it to you, and I would do so gladly.” It was generous but also unsurprising. Mrs. Brownlow was not overly close to her late husband’s family, to whom the estate would be left after her passing. “As it is, my man of business has managed to secure only £10,000 free of the entail. All of that, of course, will be yours when I pass on.”
Gillian shook her head. “You know I don’t like to hear you talk of dying.”
Mrs. Brownlow offered one of her soft smiles, a sight Gillian had taken comfort in since she’d first come to live with the lady.“Never fear, dear, I have no expectation of meeting St. Peter anytime soon.”
“I, for one, am exceptionally grateful for that.”
“I fully intend to leave this life in a state of peace.” Mrs. Brownlow adjusted her shawl. “Except in the matter of you.”
“Me?” Gillian hadn’t expected that.
“You’ll have money enough to live on, and for that, I am grateful. But I worry that you will be alone. Before you came to live with me, I was very alone. That is a painful thing.”
Gillian was, in many ways, still “very alone.” She did have the Huntresses though. And they could be depended upon.
“You have your friends, of course,” Mrs. Brownlow said, echoing Gillian’s thoughts. “Though, I do wish you had a gentleman in your life who cherished you and loved you the way Mr. Brownlow cherished and loved me.”
Gillian was certain her eyes were dancing with merriment. “There will be gentlemen at this house party, you know. From what I understand, all of them, other than our host, are single and eligible. Perhaps I will, quite by accident, secure the love of my life there.”
Mrs. Brownlow laughed along. “Well then, I fully expect you to return home with one.”
“Gentlemen are not like puppies,” Gillian said. “One can’t merely look over the litter, take her pick, and claim the unwitting creature forever and always. In fact, reality tends to be quite the opposite, with the gentlemen looking over the lot and making their selections. And I don’t know any gentlemen whose preference in ladies runs toward those in possession of more brains than dowry.”
“The ones worth having do,” Mrs. Brownlow said, conviction in her voice.
“Should I meet an eligible, single ‘puppy’ who takes particular delight in a young lady with no money to her name, wholives as a poor relation in another person’s house and is more comfortable with her feet on a garden path than on a ballroom floor, I solemnly vow to drag him back to Houghton Manor without delay.”
“See that you do.” Mrs. Brownlow placed the reticule in Gillian’s hand. It was surprisingly heavy. Gillian had clearly been provided with a more than generous amount of money. There would be no need for embarrassment when funds were required during the next few weeks. “Make me one more promise, my dear.”
“Anything,” Gillian said.
“While you are away, enjoy yourself. Life is too fleeting to waste the most glorious bits of it.”
“I will do my utmost to be deeply pleased with my time away,” Gillian said.
With her benefactress motioning for her to be off, Gillian made directly for the entryway, where a housemaid provided her with her coat. “Safe travels, Miss Phelps.”
“Thank you.” She stepped through the front door, fully intending to go directly to the carriage and settle in for the journey. The butler, Mr. Walker, was just then making his way from the carriage to the door, and they blocked each other’s paths.
“I am for Cumberland,” she said, watching for some response, wondering what he thought of her departure and her journey.
“Very good, Miss Phelps.” His tone matched his indifferent expression.
“This will be my first house party.”
“I’m certain all will be fine.” Still so stoic and cold.
“I am a little nervous,” she admitted.
“All will be fine, Miss Phelps.”
The door to the carriage was open. Daria could, no doubt, hear them. She might even be able to see them. Though she hadinsisted she knew all Gillian’s secrets, she most certainly didn’t know this one. It was best she didn’t. Crucial, even.