Chapter Seventeen
Seated at the west parlor’s writing desk in the Earl’s London house, Richard tapped Lady Catherine’s letter on the inlaid top.
He’d had the letter for days, along with one from Darcy saying he’d returned to London, but had yet to act on either.
Richard unfolded Lady Catherine’s missive again and reread the lines that informed him of her and Anne’s visit to London and gave Richard permission to court Anne.
Apparently, Darcy had confirmed what Richard had told Lady Catherine he would. Darcy would not marry their cousin.
Rather, Darcy’s cousin. Richard could no longer, in truth, claim any blood relation to Anne.
That change, at least, made the idea of courting her easier.
He must still rearrange his thinking on the matter, to reflect the reality of their lack of blood ties, but at least that lack existed.
Fortunately, he and Anne had spent little time interacting.
Not like he and his cousin Georgiana. Her, he viewed as a little sister and no amount of hidden lineage could change that.
What wasn’t easier was Richard’s plan to seek Anne’s hand.
Not only did he approach her as a fortune hunter, he did so under false pretenses.
He had no illusions that Lady Catherine would condone, or even permit, his courtship if she knew the truth about his lineage.
While that prompted haste, for the truth might someday come out, it also necessitated an examination of what sort of man Richard was.
Most importantly, was he a man who would woo a woman while living a lie?
As much as he wished for the security of wealth, he doubted he was that sort of man.
Richard tossed the letter to the desktop and pushed back his chair.
Even though a small part of him feared Darcy’s reaction, it was Darcy with whom Richard must speak.
Darcy’s response would inform Richard of the severity of his proposed crime.
And if he turned out not to despise Richard once he knew the truth, Darcy would offer solid advice.
Richard strode through the townhome, overly ornate by his thinking, but a luxury he didn’t wish to do without.
Not that he required such extravagance. In fact, he generally didn’t stay in the Matlock London house when in London if Thomas was in residence.
Richard did enjoy residing there, however, and, more than that, he resented the idea that after a lifetime as brothers, Thomas would kick him out over a few months’ leeway in the date of Richard’s birth.
He reached the marbled entrance hall and told the butler, “Send for my horse, please,” as he passed on the way to his room. The room he’d used since childhood. His room.
“Is anything amiss, sir?” his valet, Harper, asked when Richard entered.
Harper’s question was unusual and Richard realized his face betrayed his worry. Generally, Harper only concerned himself with Richard’s appearance, not his mood, and was more likely to look at Richard’s feet to see if his shoes needed polish than at his face.
Harper would be dismayed to learn the truth. He might even give notice. It was prestigious to be the valet of an Earl’s son, even a second son. No one gave any special treatment to the valet of the posthumous offspring of a country gentleman.
“Nothing is amiss,” Richard said, tone level. “I came for my coat. I’m headed to Darcy House.”
“Very well, sir,” Harper said and retrieved Richard’s coat from the wardrobe.
Trying not to resent the man’s assistance, Richard let Harper help him don his coat, and adjust his hat. He accepted the gloves his valet proffered, and offered a crisp nod of thanks, then went back down and out to his waiting mount. He rode to Darcy House in a grim mood.
His mood wasn’t improved when he arrived and was informed that Darcy was out.
Georgiana, however, was in, and while Richard couldn’t seek her advice about courting Anne, he was always happy to visit with his ward.
Of course, when Mr. George Darcy had selected Richard to be co-guardian of Georgiana with Darcy, he’d thought he put his daughter’s future in the hands of an Earl’s son, which he had not.
Did that mean Richard should renounce that obligation?
Pressing away that thought and trying to likewise shed his grim mood, he followed Darcy’s butler to the library, where Georgiana worked at a table with her companion, Mrs. Annesley. Setting aside her studies, she came immediately to greet him, her smile finally elevating his mood.
“How is my favorite ward?” he asked.
“I’m your only ward.” Georgiana smirked. “And you’re only my second favorite guardian.”
Richard clutched both hands to his chest. “I am wounded. I cannot believe that you like your brother better than me.”
Scrunching her face, Georgiana said, “Well, I like you better than I like your brother, the Right Honorable Viscount Wilmington. That must salve your wounded heart.”
It would, if there’d been any doubt, but no one liked Thomas better than Richard. Amused, he asked, “Does he make you call him that?”
“Oh yes. The Right Honorable Viscount Wilmington. I’m surprised he hasn’t written you about it. Whenever I fail to behave as he deems proper, he threatens to write you and Fitz.”
Thomas rarely deigned to write Richard, but he said, “He may have. I toss out his letters.”
Georgiana’s eyes went wide. “You do not.”
Still seated at the table, to which Georgiana now had her back, Mrs. Annesley cast him an admonishing look.
Richard chuckled. “No, I do not. They’re rare enough, they must be valuable.”
“But imagine if you did. Viscount Wilmington would be so angry with you.”
“Indeed, he would.” Richard frowned. “What do you mean, whenever you aren’t proper?”
“I did not say when I am not proper. I said, when he believes I am not.”
“Georgiana,” Richard said sternly.
She flung out her arms, mutinous. “Oh, all sorts of things. Like if I accidentally call him cousin. Or when he wasn’t allowed to take money from my dowry to pay for the use of your father’s cottage in Ramsgate.
” The cottage was entailed, which meant Thomas would inherit it eventually.
Although it didn’t belong to him yet, Thomas tended to equate future ownership with the right to profit.
Richard sputtered, offended on Georgiana’s and Darcy’s behalf, and unsurprised Darcy hadn’t even bothered to consult him on that business. “Father lent you the cottage. Thomas had no right to ask for rent. Especially from your dowry.”
“No he did not, and Fitz grew quite put out, as I recall, but that didn’t stop the Viscount.” She lowered her voice and added, “He was also very angry that you and my brother let Mrs. Younge go.”
“That volume is over here?” Richard asked loudly, heading for the far side of the library. He trusted Mrs. Annesley, but the fewer people who knew of Georgiana’s momentary, but socially damning, lapse in judgement the better.
Georgiana rolled her eyes, but followed Richard to a far shelf, out of hearing of her companion. Richard faced the books, committing to the pretense of searching for one.
“Mrs. Annesley wasn’t listening to us,” Georgiana said in a low voice. “She’s reading some horrendous book about the history of pirates and she’s very engrossed.”
“She’s reading about pirates?” Richard reiterated, surprised.
Georgiana shrugged. “She must read something while I work. She does mending as well, sometimes, or needlework. I suppose pirates make a nice change.”
Richard shook his head and returned to Georgiana’s statement about her former governess, Mrs. Younge. “Thomas spoke to you about us releasing Mrs. Younge? Why? We gave him a perfectly good reason.”
“You told him that Mrs. Younge permitted a fortune hunter to court me. That, apparently, wasn’t a good enough reason to dismiss a woman with loose ties to nobility. Don’t worry. I gave him a better reason.”
“What could be better than telling him that she allowed a fortune hunter to court you?”
“Telling him that she allowed me to be courted by a fortune hunter who not only had no noble connections, but no connections to the gentry at all.”
Richard felt a wave of despair at such strong evidence of his brother’s prejudices. “That persuaded him when the mention of a fortune hunter alone did not?”
Georgiana nodded, expression an odd mixture of satisfaction and disgust. “As if I would be happy with a fortune hunter who spent my dowry so long as he had the right ancestors.”
Richard contained a grimace. He would be a fortune hunter who would live off of Anne’s dowry, without the right ancestry. If he wed Anne without revealing the truth, would he be much better than Wickham? “You didn’t tell Thomas who this fortune hunter was, did you?”
“Certainly not and, before you ask, I made absolutely no mention that the fortune hunter in question persuaded me to elope. I’m not unintelligent.”
Richard removed a book, studying it without seeing. “No. You’re not. Not anymore. And you weren’t unintelligent for very long, because you told Darcy about Wickham’s plan and didn’t elope.”