Chapter Eleven - William
After Dahlia picked up her satchel and left with very little promise as to when he’d see any results whatsoever, William gathered with his sisters in the parlor.
“I like her,” Lily declared.
“You like everyone.” Margaret flopped next to her on the leather sofa and grinned.
“Yes, but I like her very much.”
“Did you see her sketches?” Margaret’s eyes were bright. “I think she really is as good as you say, William.”
“Even better.”
“Well, if anyone would know,” Claire said acerbically, “it would be you, wouldn’t it?”
“You’ve been remarkably difficult today. Why don’t you like Miss Warrington?”
“She’s spoiled,” Claire said. “She and her sisters came to town several years ago and the entire ton threw themselves at their feet just because the eldest happened to be lucky in marriage.”
“You are aware that she grew up poor on a farm, right?”
William didn’t think it would be abusing Dahlia’s confidence to tell them as much, when it was a readily known fact.
“That’s a distant memory.” Claire waved the information away with an elegant hand. “She hasn’t been on the farm in years now. Besides, I don’t see what the farm has to do with any of it.”
“It’s just that the nobility wasn’t always sprawled at her feet, as you seem to think.”
His sister shrugged. “It is now, though.”
“If Miss Warrington does as she says, nobility might soon be spread out before your feet. But not if you keep antagonizing her as you did today.”
“You’re paying her. I hardly think it matters what her opinion of me is.”
He threw up his hands. “Good heavens, Claire, make up your mind. Is she a servant or the most spoiled young lady in all of nobility?”
“Women can have many facets.” Claire fussed with the tassel on a decorative pillow, not meeting his eyes. “Perhaps she is both.”
“I like her,” Margaret said, staunchly.
“As do I,” Lily said.
Beatrice chuckled. “You’ve already said as much, and we’ve already reminded you it’s little recommendation as you like everyone.”
“That’s not true,” Lily said. “What was the name of that old piano master?”
“Disapproval hardly counts if it’s not strong enough for you to even remember who it is you don’t like.”
Lily shrugged, unconcerned.
“I’m famished,” Margaret said. “Is it time for luncheon?”
“I’m sure that Mrs. Dunn has been waiting on you for the last hour,” William said. “Go on through. We’ll be there in a moment.” He turned to Lily. “May I have a word, please?”
William didn’t miss the warning glance that Claire shot over her shoulder as she left the room.
Of all his sisters, Claire was proving to be the most difficult.
He hadn’t remembered her as such. Previously, she had been quick to laugh, but that was before—before he’d left London, before his brother had lost the family fortune.
He knew things must have been hard; he also knew there were aspects of his sisters’ story that he was not yet privy to.
Sometimes it kept him up at night—the things he didn’t know. He suspected that Claire had borne the brunt of it. She was the eldest. She felt as keen a sense of responsibility for her sisters as he did.
Lily turned back, hesitation on her face, then took the chair across from his.
In an instant, he saw that Dahlia was right, that she’d perceived something he hadn’t.
There was some strange emotion between him and Lily.
He studied her, remembering the beautiful young girl who’d long since grown into an even more beautiful lady.
Suddenly, he didn’t quite know what to say. Per usual, he thought the truth would serve them best.
“I feel things are strange between us. And I don’t know why.”
Instead of denying the claim, she ducked her head and pleated the silk of her gown between her fingers.
“What is it?” he pressed. “Are you angry with me, as Claire is?”
Her eyes jerked upward, wide. “No,” she blurted. “I thought it was you who was angry with me.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“For taking employment.”
He laughed. Her eyes went wide.
“You think that I, of all people, would be upset with you for earning wages to support our family? I only feel guilt you had to do it in the first place.”
“We didn’t know that you hadn’t received the letter,” she explained. “For some time, we thought—well, we thought that we were on our own.”
He clenched his jaw. He’d suspected as much, based on Claire’s anger. Still, it was a painful thing to have it said out loud.
“I promise I came as fast as I could once I received the letter.”
“We know that now, of course. At the time, things weren’t nearly as plain.”
“Hindsight is always clearer. But of course I’m not angry with you,” he hastened to add. “I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
“How could I not be? It must have been a frightening thing for you to find a position. And Claire says you did it all on your own.”
She gave a begrudging smile. “She was quite upset.”
“Not an easy thing to do, standing up to her,” he teased, though he was serious. “And a frightening thing to travel halfway across the country. But you did it, and I’m proud of you for it. I’m the very luckiest of men to have a sister as intelligent and resourceful as you.”
“I thought you’d be angry with me,” she admitted. “Well, that’s not true. At the time, I thought you didn’t care at all.”
He winced, and she gave an apologetic smile.
“Are you looking forward to your Season?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something more pleasant.
Her face lit. “I am.”
“I’ve no doubt that the gentlemen will be dazzled by you.”
Her fingers twisted into her skirts again. “I hope so.”
“What about your sisters?” He adjusted a bronze horse on the side table so that it stood perpendicular to the sofa arm. “Are they looking forward to the Season as well?”
“To varying degrees.”
“Even Claire?”
She gave a little exhale. “I think Claire is the most determined of all of us. I believe she has a plan to conquer the ton.”
“A plan?”
“Claire doesn’t do anything without a plan.”
“Do you have a plan as well?”
“My plan only extends so far as not stepping on anyone’s toes while we’re waltzing.”
“With your exceptional beauty and sweetness, Lily, that plan will probably be just as effective as any other. Shall we join the others?”
They stood, but Abeer approached the doorway and made meaningful eye contact.
“Go ahead, Lily. I’ll be there in a moment,” William said.
After she’d gone, Abeer winced. “I fear this will take more than a moment, my lord.”
“The word ‘moment’ has many definitions. What is the issue?”
“Do you truly wish to continue this scheme of yours?”
William sank into a chair and motioned for Abeer to join him. “I believe I’ve been clear on the matter.”
He tapped the ledger he held. “Yet it is my duty as your friend and loyal servant to point out the social danger of the matter.”
“I’m preventing social danger.”
Abeer huffed. “Lending money to noblemen could backfire, my lord.”
William leaned back and threaded his fingers together over his expensive waistcoat. “My sisters must be accepted into society. I’m overcoming the social tension regarding my trade by sharing my largesse through a philanthropy of sorts.”
“It can hardly be described as such if there are interest rates involved, my lord.”
“Yet it seems to be going well. Unless you’re here to inform me that no one visited your offices today?”
Abeer’s answering sigh was long-suffering and familiar. William grinned.
“At this point, I’m little more than a glorified bet-taker, my lord,” Abeer complained. “Lord Chilton comes like clockwork before the races.”
“He always repays us from his winnings. So far, the man’s been quite lucky at the track.”
“Not lucky enough to keep his money, my lord. If he’s so good at picking a horse, why does he need a new loan every other week?”
“An excellent question, but not one we’re free to ask.”
“Thankfully, you seem to be right about the honor attached to repayment. So far, we only have a couple of gentlemen in arrears. I certainly don’t see how we’ll collect those, however, short of sending some thugs to the men’s houses.”
“Don't be ridiculous. This business is all upside. Either they pay back what they’ve been loaned—with interest—or I have more gentlemen who quite literally owe me.”
Abeer shook his head with a smile. “And you have a list of gentlemen who can’t deserve your sisters, to boot.”
“You’re a brilliant fellow; I knew you’d catch on.”