Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 07] - Married Past Redemption (8 page)

"But—but if you
had
no more…?"

"I borrowed," said Mr. Van Lindsay, hoarsely. "And now the
canal company has gone bankrupt. God knows how I ever shall be able
to—to repay!"

"My God!" whispered Lisette, her eyes a dark blur in her white
face. "Whatever shall we do?"

"Sell. Everything. House, furniture, carriages,
horses—everything!"

There was a brief, heavy silence, as they each envisioned this
grim prospect. Her mouth dry and parched, Lisette asked, "And—if we do?
Shall we have sufficient to start afresh? To buy a small house,
perhaps, and live together still?"

"We might," said Mr. Van Lindsay heavily, "have enough to
repay the man who holds my notes—who has kept me going through all
this, with never a word of complaint, nor ever pressed me for payment."

Lisette gripped the back of a chair with both hands. "Justin
Strand…"

Humphrey swung around. "You knew?" he gasped. "Never say he
told you?"

"No. He did not tell me," she said, thinking bitterly:
Instead, he bragged of it to his friends! But she dared not further
humiliate her father—not with him looking suddenly so old and drawn.
Clinging very tightly to the chair, she wet her dry lips and croaked,
"Perhaps I can help. Mr. Garvey is, I think, quite interested. Were he
to offer—and I accepted—"

"Much good that would do!" her mother said tartly. "Oh, we
thought at first it would be a splendid match, but now we hear the
gentleman is not near so plump in the pockets as we had supposed. As
Timothy would say," she added hastily. "There is a way, however, in
which you could bring us about, Lisette. I, as you are aware, have
excellent expectations of my Uncle Ian. The poor old gentleman cannot
have many years left to him. If we could just keep our heads above
water until then—but for these wretched debts… At all events, another
gentleman has expressed a deep interest in you, and has already spoken
to your papa in the matter. He is—not quite of our class, I own, but—"

Lisette threw one hand to her trembling mouth. "No, Mama!" she
sobbed. "Not Justin Strand! Oh—
please
! To wed into
that shamed family! To have to name Rachel Str—Rachel Leith my
sister
!
I
could
not. Oh—I
could
not!"

"Good God! What a Cheltenham tragedy!" snorted her father with
considerable irritation. "The boy's not
that
repulsive! He may not come near to young Leith in looks—or gallantry.
Certainly not in lineage, sad to say. But, by gad, he's a cut
above—er—some.''

"I would think," Mrs. Van Lindsay put in coldly, "that any
loving daughter would be glad of the power to rescue her family from
ruin! Not act like some weak-kneed blancmanger when offered the chance."

"Ah, I do not, ma'am," Lisette whispered, reaching out one
hand in poignant appeal. "You know how I love you and Papa. How
grateful I am for the m-many kindnesses you have shown me."

"Much you show it!" sniffed Philippa. "Years of uncomplaining
self-sacrifice for the sake of our children! And—for what?

Rejection! Abandonment! Oh—what bitter fruit!" And she
dissolved into her handkerchief.

Anguished, Lisette sobbed, "Mama—I beg of you—do not. Papa,
there
must
be someone else? Suppose Mr. Vaughan
should offer. Or—or Galen Hilby? They are both wealthy, and—"

"A dozen men
might
offer," said Mr. Van
Lindsay, with barely repressed impatience, "but who could hold a candle
to Strand? He's come home as rich as Golden Ball, I collect. Besides,
we cannot wait, Lisette. It must be soon. Strand will keep a quiet
tongue, I am assured." He added despondently, "If Garvey knew, then
Prinny and all the Court would know I'd had to allow a nabob from an
inferior house to tow a Van Lindsay out of the River Tick! I—I should
never be able to hold my head up again!"

Lisette looked prayerfully from one to the other. "Was it so
dreadful to have borrowed from him?"

Mrs. Van Lindsay muttered a miserable, "His mother was well
born, but his sister Leith is of very low repute. And his papa was
caught… cheating at cards!"

"Yes! Yes!" said Lisette, gripping her hands in her eagerness.
"Assuredly you would not wish me to marry into so wretched a house!"

"Oh, he's a good enough catch," asserted Mr. Van Lindsay,
hurriedly mending his fences. "Half the ladies in the
ton
are dropping the handkerchief for him!"

"And it is quite a different matter to accept so eligible a
bachelor as a bridegroom than to have it known he made us loans,"
Philippa decreed regally. "His lineage is not so bad, I expect—just
that wretched father. And his sister, but you'd likely seldom see her."

"I hear the Leiths reside in Berkshire pretty much all year
round," said Humphrey, treading closer. "Strand's not a
muckworm,m'dear, I'll give him that. Likely he'd agree to a magnificent
settlement!"

Her brief hope shattered, Lisette stared blankly before her.
Whatever had happened to all her hopes—her dreams of becoming the bride
of a splendid fighting man like Tristram Leith? Camille Damon's quiet
words seemed to echo in her ears: "There is a time for pride…" For the
sake of her loved ones, she must swallow her own. But she would not
think of it now. Surely something must happen to save her. Surely some
valiant gentleman would appear to rescue her from this horrid fate.
Meanwhile… "Very well," she said dully. "If Justin Strand offers, I—I
will accept."

Justin Strand did not call in Portland Place next
day, nor did he appear during the following week. Lisette's
nervous fears eased a little; to all outward appearances she was bright
and happy, delighting the beaux who had sorely missed her during her
"indisposition." The most assiduous of these was James Garvey. He
called at least once each day and was quick to notice that his
reception, at least from the senior Van Lindsays, was cooler than had
been accorded him previously, and that his fair Lisette occasionally
seemed a trifle preoccupied. Mr. Garvey was a shrewd gentleman; he had
waited a considerable time before contemplating so binding a step as
matrimony. In Miss Van Lindsay, however, he thought to have found the
ideal mate, and heiress, for everyone knew that her penny-pinching
grandmama was rich as Croesus. He had thought to have a clear field,
but the changed attitudes in Portland Place caused him some unease, and
he proceeded to pursue his chosen bride with single-minded
determination. Judith formed the habit of waiting for the florist's
cart to arrive on the street each day, whereupon she herself would bear
the current offering to her sister. It was usually impressive, and on
the following Wednesday morning consisted of an enormous bouquet of
white roses.

"Just like a wedding," she sighed, delivering the flowers to
Sanders and the card to Lisette. "I doubt you'll need a shawl, dearest.
It's warm out."

Tying the pink satin ribbons of her fetching little bonnet,
Lisette admired the roses, smiled at the message Mr. Garvey had
inscribed on the card, and said, "How lovely. And how nice to see the
sun. Have you your books? Is Norman to accompany us?"

"No." Judith giggled. "Mr. Worth is taking him to see the
Elgin Marbles. He was grumpy as a bear when he heard Miss Lovell has a
bad cold and will not come for my lessons today."

"If you was to ask me," Sanders volunteered, "Miss Lovell
should have never been allowed to go daily. A young lady needs a
governess until she has made her come-out."

They all knew that Miss Lovell now lived at home and only came
from ten until four each day because the Van Lindsays could no longer
afford a resident governess. With a pang, Lisette thought that when she
was wed Judith would be able to have a proper governess again. Aloud,
she said, "I would think Mr. Worth might have offered to take you with
them, dear."

"Go to a history lesson with my brother and his tutor?"
squeaked Judith, incensed. "I should rather turn up my toes!"

"And I suppose your brother taught you that vulgar expression!
Come along, then. Do not forget your box."

Judith glanced at the box she had dropped on the bed. "Oh,
it's not mine. Another offering from one of your admirers, I suppose.
It was on the hall table."

Lisette opened the small box. Inside was a simple bunch of
violets. Again the card bore no message, only the name, Justin Derwent
Strand. A coldness touched her, and she stared blankly at the fragrant
blooms.

Peering over her shoulder, Judith gave a scornful snort.
"Strand! Who wants
his
old flowers? And if he is
as rich as people say, one would think he could do better than that!"

"If you was to ask me," said Sanders, who had taken Mr. Garvey
in dislike, "they are in better taste than
some
of the floral offerings that is brought here. And what's more, it's in
very
poor taste for a lady to look down her nose at a gift."

"Exactly so." Lisette passed her the flowers. "Would you
please put them in water for me, Sandy? Come, Judith."

It was indeed a bright morning, and their walk to the
circulating library was enlivened by Judith's account of the novel she
returned. This gruesome tale delineated the horrors besetting a young
girl who was taken from her convent by her indigent father and forced
to marry one Sir Montague Knaresworth, a villain of such depravity as
would freeze the blood. "You could not
believe
what poor Fiona endures at his hands!" said Judith dramatically. "In
the end a brave gentleman befriends her and they run away together."

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Lisette. "Does Mama know you read
such things? It sounds most improper."

"Oh, but it is enthralling. If you would but read it, Lisette.
Sir Montague must have been a veritable monster. I cried and cried. It
was lovely. Poor Fiona! A lady is so helpless when she marries, is she
not? I kept thinking of how fortunate Beatrice is to have wed someone
as amiable as William."

Lisette's smile faded. For a depressing moment she saw herself
in Fiona's role—forced into marriage with a man she despised…

The porter was swinging open the library doors, and they
entered to find the large rooms redolent with the fragrances of coffee
and perfumes, and humming with conversation. Deciding to exchange their
books first and perhaps have some coffee afterwards, they proceeded to
the counter and handed in their returns, then went to the bookcases at
the side. The library was enjoying a thriving business. Quite apart
from the convivial groups gathered about the tables enjoying their
coffee or tea, many patrons browsed among the bookcases, and Lisette
soon found herself separated from Judith. Moments later, she was hailed
by a familiar voice and found the dashing Earl of Harland at her elbow.
Harland, who was always willing to chat with a pretty girl, spent some
moments discussing the recent marriage of his son, Viscount Lucian St.
Clair, and the charm of the Damon ball. They were considering the
merits of a new book of verse that had been highly recommended to
Lisette, when she became aware of a hovering presence and glanced
around to meet a pair of shy hazel eyes and a rather flushed young
face. "Lord Bolster." She smiled, holding out her hand. "How do you do?
I see you have not brought your dog this time."

"Br-Br, Br-Br- He's outside," he gulped, shooting a glance at
Harland's impassive features. "V-v-very n-nice to me-meet you again,
M-Miss Van Lindsay." Even more flushed, he persisted doggedly.
"H-he-hear he m-made himself a c-c-blasted nuisance of himself in
y'house. Humble apol-apol-ogies."

She assured him Brutus had been no trouble at all. "I imagine
he would be a perfectly splendid watchdog, sir."

His lordship appeared gratified, but about to essay another
speech, was dismayed by a sudden wild outburst of barking and a few
assorted shrieks from outside. Paling, he stammered an apology and left
them.

Lisette turned amused eyes to the Earl. "I hope he may not be
hauled off by the Watch.''

"I hope not, poor fellow. He has trouble enough. But, I
suppose you know about him."

"I knew he was wounded at Badajoz. And that he seems a very
nice young man."

"Oh, Jeremy's a splendid fellow. One of my son's closest
friends, I'm happy to say. He was speaking quite well again until
recently. But when he and Amanda ended their engagement…" He sighed.
"When Jeremy is upset, his stammering intensifies."

"What a pity. Indeed, I think it the saddest thing, for they
would make such a delightful couple.''

"Not sad, ma'am. Ridiculous. The only thing keeping them apart
is my niece's totally unwarranted sense of unworthiness. One fails to
convince her that people hold her blameless. The people who matter, at
all events."

An even louder burst of barking sent Harland's worried glance
to the door. "Your pardon, Miss Van Lindsay. I'd best go. Bolster may
need a spokesman." He bowed over her hand, and departed.

It was time for her to leave also, but there was no sign of
Judith. Suspecting her sister had been lured outside by the commotion,
Lisette collected her books, went to the counter, and thence to the
outer doors. Sure enough, Judith and Bolster were standing on the
flagway, engaged in earnest conversation, Judith caressing the dog's
unhandsome head while he panted at her with a decidedly crocodilian
smile. Several elderly ladies inched past uneasily. Of Lord Harland
there was no sign, but as she came up with them, Lisette was mildly
surprised to hear Bolster extolling the virtues of his pet with
scarcely a stammer.

"Oh, there you are, dear," said Judith. "I've been waiting
this age. You know Lord Bolster, do you not? And is not Brutus
delicious? I am permitted to hold the leash while we walk home."

Recalling Judith's previous reaction to the "delicious"
canine, Lisette blinked, but said with a smile, "How kind in you, sir.
I fancy we will go quite unmolested, for no one would dare steal our
books with you and Brutus guarding us."