A Question of Worth (The Warrington Bequests #1)

Prologue

"Do you understand what this means?"

Susanna pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips, wishing desperately that her father had not thought to have this discussion in the library.

Having been reading quietly to herself in the window seat, she was now an uninvited listener to the discussion between her father and his brother, Lord Atherby.

"I am well aware of what it means, I thank you.

" The acerbic tone from her father made Susanna wilt inwardly.

Her father was a proud man and had never been interested in garnering the advice of others on any particular matter.

That, Susanna feared, had been the cause of a good many difficulties — particularly now.

"You will be ruined. And soon."

Her uncle's tone was solemn, and Susanna caught her breath, her eyes flaring wide as the air left her lungs, leaving her chest burning and painful. "You must know that."

"There has to be a way out!" There was desperation clawing at her father's words, desperation that Susanna too felt within her own heart.

Closing her eyes, she tucked her knees up closer to her chest, her breathing quickening as she waited for her uncle's response.

She had known for some time that her father was in financial difficulty — it had not been hard to miss, especially when some of her most precious items had been taken away by creditors — but she had not, until this very moment, realized the extent of their difficulties.

Her future, it seemed, was very dark indeed.

"There is nothing you can do," came the reply.

"If you had listened to me when I spoke to you six months ago, then you might now be in a very different position.

But you did not." Hardness came into Lord Atherby's voice.

"You chose to continue with your gambling, with your foolishness.

You did not seek to make amends and pay your debts.

Instead, you have only accumulated even more. "

"I thought that if my luck changed, then I would have the coin to pay all that I owed."

The weakness and trembling in her father's voice made Susanna's heart twist with a sharp disdain, anger beginning to coil around her heart.

From what she understood, her father had been given opportunity to bring about change, to salvage his reputation and to make certain her future was secure — but he had chosen not to pursue it.

"I lost my dear wife," he continued, as Susanna's eyes grew hot with tears. "The loss has been great and — "

"Do not use the memory of my sister as an excuse for your proclivities!

" Anger tore through the room, making Susanna snatch in a breath, her eyes flaring at the fury she heard in her uncle's voice.

"She loved you once. She loved the man she believed you were, believed you would become, and instead of fulfilling your duties as you ought, you turned instead to liquor and gambling.

Long before her illness, you were throwing aside caution and pursuing foolishness instead.

I will not have her name brought in as a reason for your stupidity.

" He paused for only a moment as Susanna brushed tears from her eyes.

"She left this life unwillingly, afraid that you would not care for your daughter in the way you ought.

It seems as if her fears have been realized. "

Pain tore through Susanna's frame, making her tremble at her uncle's harsh words.

Was this true? Was it to be that she would be left now without hope, without future?

She had expected to go to London in a few months' time, had been informed that she would be making her long awaited debut...

but that had been before her father had begun to sink into the mire of debt.

If he was ruined then, simply by being his daughter, she too was ruined in society's eyes.

She would have no merits of her own, no worth, nothing to recommend her.

It did not matter whether she was of fine character or was genteel or elegant.

If her father had no fortune, if he were surrounded by debt, then there would be no future for her.

By his actions, he had taken it all from her.

Her brow furrowed, a spike of anger beginning to press into her heart. It seemed to be so dreadfully unfair that she should bear the burden of her father's actions when she herself had done nothing wrong.

"What else can I do, Atherby?" There was a weariness in her father's voice now, as if he had tried everything he could to gain his brother's understanding and favor but it had failed him entirely. "I have sold as much as I have been able to pay for my debts. It has still not been enough."

A snort of ridicule came from Lord Atherby.

"You ask such a question too late. Surely you must have seen what would come from your actions?

You cannot pretend that you were unaware of the consequences.

" There was a short pause. "Tell me, did you even think of Susanna? Did you, even once, consider her?"

The thump of a fist on a desk made Susanna start violently, and she dropped her head to her knees, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

"What would you understand about family?" she heard her father say, his anger an attempt to hide his shame. "You have no children of your own. You cannot have any notion of what one's responsibility is like when it comes to one's own flesh and blood."

"Your shame cannot hide itself from me," Lord Atherby answered, his own voice rising. "You might seek to throw insult upon me, to remind me of my own failings as regards family and duty, but it will not work. It will not hide your own guilt, I can assure you of that."

"I — I will find a way to bring Susanna all that she requires."

The stammering, stumbling words brought Susanna little comfort and, her arms now encircling her knees, she rested her head down and let her tears soak into the fabric of her gown.

There was to be no debut, no stepping out into society as she had long let herself believe.

There would be no invitations to afternoon tea, no balls to attend, no gentlemen to dance with.

All that she had long hoped for, all that she had believed would be hers was now being snatched from her — and by her own father's hand.

The cruelty of his inconsideration was like a thousand thorns all pressing into her skin at once, leaving her bruised and bleeding.

Her uncle was right; there had been no thought of her in any of her father's actions.

He had done just as he pleased, without once thinking of her and her future.

He had given in to his own inclinations without hesitation, had pursued enjoyment with reckless abandon and left her standing alone in the cold and the shadow.

"I will find a way to secure Susanna's future." There came now a faint trembling into her father's voice, making Susanna wince at the weakness he now displayed. "I do not need to be reminded of my duties there."

A hard, cold laugh came from Lord Atherby. "Reminding you will do no good; I am well aware of that. My sister tried to speak to you many times of your duties — not only as her husband but as a gentleman of this family — and you did nothing."

"Why are you here?" A sharpness shot back into her father's voice.

Susanna could imagine him, standing tall now, trying to push his brother away from him, to rid his voice and his presence from the room so that he could be at peace once more.

She kept her head on her knees, hopelessness weakening her, stealing away every bit of strength from her frame.

"For what purpose did you come? To mock me?

To remind me of my failings? To take your leave of me?

To tell me that you intend to cast me off now that my shame is complete? "

There came a long, pronounced silence. Susanna's heartbeat quickened, her eyes tightly closed, dampness still on her lashes.

Had he come to call simply to tell them that he would never again be in their company?

That the scandal would be too great for him to be near them again?

She could not blame him if that was his decision.

It would be the right thing for him to do as a gentleman eager to protect his own title.

"I am come because of Susanna."

Her head lifted sharply, a gasp ripping from her mouth — a gasp that was not heard by the two gentlemen given the exclamation that tore from her father's lips.

"For Susanna?" There was another short pause. "Do you intend to take her from me? I will not permit that, I can assure you. I — "

"I have found her a suitable match."

The shock of his words was so great, Susanna almost flung herself down from the window seat so she might rush to her uncle and demand to know what he meant.

Instead, she gripped her hands tightly together in her lap and rested her head back against the wall, her eyes closing as her heart pounded furiously in her chest.

"What do you mean by this?" Her father sounded angry rather than relieved, as if somehow, Lord Atherby's actions had been an insult. "Susanna is my responsibility and — "

"And you have failed in that responsibility," Lord Atherby interrupted.

"Before she died, my sister begged me to watch over my niece, fearing that you would not do so.

She was proven correct, as you cannot deny, and thus, I took on the duty that you had thrown aside.

I have found her a suitable match, and the gentleman is willing not only to meet Susanna but to announce their engagement the very same day. "

Engaged?

Her eyes opened as she stared up at the wood panelling above her, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears. For a moment, she told herself she had misunderstood, that this was all some ridiculous confusion — only to hear her father ask after the gentleman by name.

"Lord Warrington. Is he a Viscount?"

"An Earl."

Susanna's heart lurched violently. A creeping chill crept to the very tips of her fingers until even her breath felt thin and frosted. Pressing her back against the wall, she dragged in air and closed her eyes, fighting a strange rush of panic.

"Why would he be willing to wed Susanna?" There was not only doubt but a hint of disbelief in her father's voice. "Given all you have just stated about my situation and the fact I will be ruined, why would this gentleman even think to consider my daughter?"

"Because he is a good man."

Susanna opened her eyes, a faint ribbon of hope tying itself around her.

"He is a gentleman in need of a wife. A quiet sort, he has no inclination to go to London to find a bride.

I told him of my niece, told him of her elegance, her gentle nature and her need of a good match to shield her from what is to come.

He has accepted her just as she is, knowing what will follow but aware that her marriage to him will offer her some protection. "

Tears burned in Susanna's eyes as she blinked furiously, torn between confusion and relief.

It was clear that her uncle trusted this Lord Warrington, that he believed him to be this gentle and kind-hearted, and that had to be qualification enough.

It was not what she had hoped for, certainly, for she had longed — as every young lady did — for a time in London at the Season, to make her own decision, to find her own match, but it seemed it was not to be.

Her father's decisions had torn that from her, but her uncle's kind consideration offered her hope.

"You will not refuse this."

Susanna closed her eyes, feeling as if those words were spoken as much to her as they were to her father.

"You cannot refuse this."

"No," Susanna whispered to herself, tears once more dampening her cheeks. "It seems as though I cannot."