Chapter Four #2
Heat swarmed up Verity’s cheeks. “It’s part of the truth,” she said, determinedly looking her aunt in the eye. “I am indeed engaged to be married to Lord Dunster and the wedding will be here in London, once Walter has arranged it for us, as he has so kindly offered to do.”
Aunt Josephine’s eyes widened. “Walter is setting himself up to organize weddings for his friends now, is he?” She couldn’t hide her obvious astonishment. “I had no idea he possessed such hidden talents.”
“Um, sort of,” Walter mumbled. “Jonnie’s, at any rate. Said I would. As a favor, don’t you know. To help and all that.”
“A favor?” repeated his mother, sounding more than ever shocked. However, Verity had not missed the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. She was enjoying this.
Walter really was the worst conspirator out, even though he’d so boldly seized the initiative at Lord Dunster’s house. Perhaps his present confusion was due to a healthy fear of his mother.
Verity sighed, wishing her cheeks felt less fiery.
It was going to be up to her to confess, as confession was what was called for here.
She’d always thought honesty was the best policy.
Not a lesson her father had taught her, but one she’d learned for herself.
She had to be honest here, even if after she’d learned the truth, Aunt Josephine refused to have anything to do with her and threw her out onto the street.
She’d just have to return to Papa’s lodging house and see if he’d come to his senses yet.
And to avoid this marriage and his debt, they’d have to flee.
Back to France, most likely. Somehow, in the last few hours, she’d come to two conclusions: firstly, that gentlemen like Lord Dunster deserved to lose their money at the hands of people like Papa; and secondly, that he was not really a gentleman at all.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Josephine. I have to tell you the truth. The full truth, not just the little part of it that Walter and Lord Dunster would like you to know.”
Aunt Josephine returned her gaze to Verity, her expression expectant, but still not disapproving. “Please do so, Verity. I am sure if my son’s previous adventures are anything to go by, it’s going to be a fascinating tale.”
Walter took on an offended expression but, probably wisely, remained silent.
Where to start? The beginning felt a long way distant now, even if it was only last night.
Although perhaps she needed to go back further than that to explain her situation now.
She took a deep breath. “After grandmama died and my papa collected me from the Dower House, he and my mother took me to France to visit her parents in Brittany. I think Papa intended them to have the next upbringing of me, so he and Mama could keep on doing what they’d always done.
Roaming around Europe from one gambling den to the next.
But my mother was taken ill while we were there and died. ”
The mother who’d shown scant interest in her child even then.
“Papa decided he needed me to take Mama’s place in some of his, er, ventures…
so he took me with him after Mama’s death.
” No need to mention how she’d been forced to learn the tricks he and Mama had used to swindle gullible rich people out of their money.
That was a part of her life she wanted no one to know about.
How embarrassing would it be if Aunt Josephine and Walter found out what she’d been part of.
“You poor motherless child,” Aunt Josephine said, patting the hand she still held, her voice full of sympathy. “Adrift in an alien world.”
“Not so very alien,” Verity admitted. “I soon learned to speak fluent French, and Papa taught me Italian and German as well, and a little Spanish. I can hold my own in Russian, too. Children adapt well to new things, I can assure you.”
“You speak all those languages?” Walter put in, sounding suitably impressed. “Stap me, but I have trouble with English sometimes.”
His mother shot him a hard stare. “As I am fully aware.”
He shut up.
“So how did you end up here in London, and how long have you been here” Aunt Josephine asked. “You are indeed with your father, I assume? That much was true, I think.”
Verity nodded. “I am with him. Or, I should say, I was with him until last night. I confess that the tale of our meeting with Walter was only partially true. I apologize for that.”
Aunt Josephine frowned, but didn’t withdraw her hand. Sympathy still exuded from her. “What is the truth then?” Her voice was gentle. “You will find me a good listener and I do not shock easily. Not after having brought up a son like Walter.”
Walter gave a huff of annoyance which was quelled by a look from his mother.
Verity swallowed. “You probably already know that my papa is a gambler. What you may not know is that he is also a…drinker.” The guilt at revealing this about Papa bit into her heart.
But it needed saying, or the story would mean nothing.
“We have spent the last thirteen years traveling in Europe, moving from one gambling table to the next in constant search of the fortune Papa was convinced he could win with his next hand.” Or cheat his way to.
“Suffice it to say that he never has made his fortune, and when he has won, he’s gambled it away at the next table or in the next city.
” She swallowed. “But he’s an old man now, and has been unwell for some time.
He wanted to return to England, but it was not with any intention of finding a marriage for me. ”
“Then how is it you find yourself engaged to Lord Dunster?”
This would be telling her aunt exactly how bad her father had become. How low he had sunk. Could she do it? Yes. She had to. After lying to her, she owed her aunt the truth, or she would not be able to hold her head up high again, nor stay with her. Ever.
She pressed on, despite her reservations. “Last night my father was gambling, as usual. And drinking. Lately he’s been doing more of that than before, and with it, his losses have grown. He found himself at the table with Lord Dunster.”
“And me,” Walter put in. “Only I didn’t know it was Uncle Anthony. He don’t look anything like Pater.”
Aunt Josephine squeezed her hand gently, ignoring her son. “What happened, child?”
The sensation that the last thing her aunt intended was to hurt her prompted Verity to press on.
“He lost. As is usual for him nowadays. He returned home to our lodgings in the early hours of the morning and informed me that he had used me to pay off his debt to Lord Dunster. Before falling asleep he instructed me to present myself at His Lordship’s house first thing in the morning.
As payment.” She swallowed, more than aware of how terrible this sounded and cringing inside that her aunt should know she’d been willing to do so.
Although she had, until she came face to face with Lord Dunster, been cherishing hopes of him valuing her accountancy or housekeeping skills.
Aunt Josephine put her free hand to her mouth. “Good heavens, child. Did you actually do that? Please tell me you didn’t.”
Verity frowned. “I did. For if I had not, Papa would surely have been sent to debtors’ prison by Lord Dunster.
And I would have had to go with him, or failing that, be left destitute and on the streets.
I thought about it for a while and decided my papa’s freedom was something I would sacrifice anything for.
I had no option but to do as he commanded me.
” She paused, feeling a softening of the blow was required.
“I went to offer myself as a servant, you understand.”
“Walter!” his mother exclaimed. “And you were party to this?” Her tone was admonitory in the extreme as she glared at her son, her hold on Verity’s hand tightening.
Walter’s face blanched. “No, I wasn’t. I just told you I hadn’t recognized Uncle Anthony, didn’t I? I had no idea the girl he was gambling was my cousin. No idea at all.”
Aunt Josephine glowered at him. “Never mind that. But you did know your friend was accepting a human being, a young woman, in return for a debt.” Her voice continued to rise with each sentence she uttered.
“How could you? Have I not brought you up to know right from wrong? You’ve been too often in that dreadful man’s company.
Don’t think I don’t know his nickname. The Black Earl.
How suitable a soubriquet that is. The man is the devil personified.
If this gets out, Verity will be ruined.
Ruined. Your cousin. Your long-lost cousin.
The little girl Robert played with.” She shook her head in despair and clasped her other hand over Verity’s as well. “You poor child.”
At least she didn’t seem to be blaming Verity for any of this. Which in Verity’s head had been a distinct possibility.
Walter did his goldfish impersonation. “I-I wasn’t a party to it…I don’t think…” But he was on uncertain ground here, as he’d obviously been present when this gambling payment had been suggested. Nothing could extricate him from that.
“Did you not think to stop him? To prevent this travesty?”