Chapter Two #2
‘That is not likely to happen,’ Percy said with a shake of his head. ‘He is as tight-fisted a miser as you are ever likely to meet.’
‘A recluse as well,’ the duke reminded them. ‘Do you think him likely to come to the wedding?’
Percy laughed again. ‘Not even if he is invited.’
Louisa managed a smile. It was a little amusing to think that Grandfather would suddenly care enough to celebrate her good fortune.
They’d never even met him before their parents’ deaths.
He had not taken a step out of his way to comfort them afterwards.
If she ever did marry, she was sure she would never see him again.
‘He has not stirred from the manor in close to ten years,’ Percy affirmed.
‘Then all you need is an announcement in The Times,’ the duke said, holding out his hands as if presenting the idea on a platter.
‘He wouldn’t believe it,’ Percy said, shaking his head.
‘And perhaps a convincing visit from a gentleman who seems to have good intentions,’ the duke said.
‘A sham engagement, complete with a sham fiancé?’ Percy said.
When Louisa turned to look at Percy, she saw that his expression had grown thoughtful, as if he was giving the idea far more consideration than he should.
She was so shocked, she looked at the duke and managed an entire sentence without hesitation. ‘You are suggesting we lie?’
‘If the alternatives are that you hurriedly marry someone you do not care for, or live in penury? Yes, I am suggesting you lie,’ he replied.
‘It is grossly unfair that your grandfather has put you in this position. You are a lovely girl and will probably find the right man more quickly when you are able to search at your own pace.’
‘But if the papers say I am already engaged to be married…’ she interrupted.
‘We can widow you just as quickly,’ Percy said, smiling at his friend as if the scheme was as clear as glass.
‘Once the marriage is announced, and the money is in your hands, we will post your husband’s obituary.’ Bonham gestured like a magician making a rabbit disappear. ‘Society might think you old for a miss, but for a widow you will be exceptionally young. Beautiful, as well.’
The compliment made her so giddy that she could almost ignore the fact he’d wrapped it in deception.
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. ‘I do not know if I like this.’ She added a cautious shake of her head to show him she was serious. ‘I am not good at lying and it sounds like I would have to do quite a lot of it.’ She turned to Percy hoping he would come to his senses.
Her brother was no help at all. He held up his hand to silence her. ‘Perhaps not. You know Grandfather’s opinions on women and independent thought. He will not be interested in hearing the story from you. It will be up to me and your future husband to convince him.’
‘That is probably true,’ she said with a frown. Her grandfather had often told her that he had no time for the blathering of women. He’d had less than no time for anything she might wish to say.
‘You need only stand and look pretty,’ Percy assured her.
‘And appear to be in love,’ the duke added with an encouraging smile. ‘A few devoted glances and a happy smile. It will be over in no time.’
He made it sound so easy. She simply had to stay out of the way while Percy and whoever he chose to play her husband rolled over her future like a millstone over wheat. When they were done, they would hand it back to her and she would make the best of whatever resulted.
They might even persuade their grandfather to give her what had been promised. Success was unlikely, but not impossible. If their scheme ended badly? Life had squashed her flat so many times already that she could hardly count them. What was one more failure?
She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself back on the window seat with her gothic novel. The only thing she’d had to worry about there was the ice melting in her lemonade before she could finish it.
‘There,’ the duke said, satisfied. ‘Look just like that. As if you are thinking of your future.’
She opened one eye. ‘I was thinking about the ginger biscuits sitting in the morning room.’
‘Keep at it,’ Percy said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. ‘With two thousand pounds, you can buy all the biscuits you wish. We will handle the rest.’
He turned to the duke. ‘We need to make up a name and the details of the engagement. Perhaps the fellow is from Scotland, or Ireland or the North. He is someone no one knows. Everyone is leaving town right now and they are not likely to pay us a call and ask after him. If they do, we will make up a story about chance meetings. We’ll announce that the fellow returned home to prepare for the wedding, accept their congratulations and send them on their way. ’
‘An exchange of letters?’ the duke suggested. ‘He might not have come to town at all.’
She opened her eyes again. ‘I am not so desperate as to marry a man without meeting him,’ she declared.
‘That is very sensible of you,’ the duke said soothingly. ‘We will invent a reason for this stranger to come to town and give you as proper a courtship as any girl could want.’
‘He will be a gentleman, of course. But not of the ton,’ Percy said. ‘You will meet and court briefly before he returns home. And then, there will be letters.’
‘Very well, then,’ she agreed. Percy seemed quite enamoured with those letters. It made her wonder just who this romance was being written for.
‘We will send the clipping to Grandfather, along with a letter of our own full of good news. We can delay our departure long enough to make sure he’s received it. Then we find someone willing to play your lovesick swain and off we go to the manor.’
‘Do we really have to go to Wiltshire?’ she said, looking from Percy to the duke and hoping that one of them would see the madness of the idea. ‘Perhaps the letter will be enough to make him contact his bankers?’
‘The visit will be needed to set the hook,’ the duke said firmly and mimed reeling in a fish. ‘If the head of your family is as stuffy and traditional as you say, he will expect the gentleman courting his only granddaughter to seek his blessing on the union.’
It was like some sort of nightmare. She felt as if she was rolling down a hill, straight for a cliff. And, instead of rescuing her, these men were standing above her, cheering her on. Clearly, she would have to save herself. ‘You are forgetting the largest and most obvious problem.’
They smiled at her, waiting for the illumination.
‘I do not have a fiancé, real or otherwise. I have no man at all to fill this role.’
Percy, at least, had seen the light. His smile dimmed and his brow furrowed as he searched for the answer. ‘An actor, perhaps? We could pay someone.’
The duke waved his hand dismissively, still smiling. ‘Certainly not. If you pick some random chap off the street and offer him money, you will never be rid of him. Once he realises your sister is any kind of an heiress, he will blackmail you to keep the secret.’
‘We need someone trustworthy, then,’ Percy said slowly. ‘A true gentleman, capable of keeping a secret.’
‘Exactly,’ the duke said.
Silence fell. The two of them stared at each other, minds racing as they searched for a candidate.
For a moment, Louisa thought she had won the argument. There was surely no one in London mad enough to go along with this scheme.
Then, something changed. Percy smiled wickedly and a look of alarm instantly spread across the duke’s face.
‘You were the one to suggest it,’ Percy pointed out with glee.
‘But I did not think…’ his friend sputtered. ‘I mean, it is not as if I can run off to the country to play games.’
‘Why not? The session of Parliament has ended. And I know for a fact you had no plans other than to go to Brighton.’
No.
The previous idea had been insane. But if she understood the meaning behind this latest exchange, they had devised a torture as horrible as anything she’d read in the most lurid novel.
Lock her in a dungeon. Bring on the rack and the wheel.
But not this. She could feel her face burning red, as she muttered, ‘No. No. Certainly not. I could never…’
Percy ignored her and spoke to the duke. ‘It is not as though you would have to be yourself. Grandfather has never met my friend, the Duke of Bonham. You are a complete stranger to him. Take off that signet and you could be anyone.’
The duke stared down at his hand, as if considering.
‘Play the part. Kowtow to the old man for a day or two. Once we get him to sign a cheque, you need never see him again.’
‘You are overlooking yet another thing,’ Louisa said, ignoring the duke and speaking directly to Percy. ‘An engagement is not a marriage. Grandfather has no obligation to give me anything until I am wed.’
He grinned back at her, unfazed. ‘No need to wait on a signed license to release the money. Let it be a wedding gift to the happy couple. He can date the cheque for the day after the ceremony if he wishes. It is not as if he will be there to pay up on the day. He is an old man. Too frail to travel. It is doubtful that he will survive the year.’
‘You have said that for the last decade,’ she reminded him.
‘And one day, I shall be right,’ Percy said, finally turning serious. ‘I hate to say it about the head of my own family, but he is an evil man. I think he takes pleasure in punishing you over nothing.’
‘He has no right to withhold your inheritance from you,’ the duke said in the firm tone of a man who was used to deciding the fate of others and having those decisions obeyed. ‘You are of age. You need the money. Something must be done.’
He sounded so sure that, for a moment, she almost believed him.