Chapter 8
Nathaniel frowned. "James, you must trust me."
"Trust you?" His brother threw up his hands as if Nathaniel had made the most preposterous suggestion. "When I told you that you had no choice but to do something about this matter with our great-aunt and Miss Fairleigh, I did not think that you meant to take her part!"
"Then what did you expect?" Nathaniel asked, looking about Whites and hoping silently that no other patron could hear the conversation.
He would have much preferred to have spoken to his brother in private, but James had insisted on coming to Whites after their evening's entertainment at the theatre.
"I said that I would do whatever I could to make certain no shadow or shame would smudge itself against our family name. That is what I am doing."
"By befriending the very young lady who is determined to pull Lady Warrington's name into the mud!
" James exclaimed, half rising out of his chair.
"Can you not see that, Ashcombe? If society takes note of your interest in her, if they see that you are encouraging a connection between the two of you, then what will be said of you then?
What whispers will cling to your title? Can you not see — "
"I do not see it the same way as you do, that much is clear," Nathaniel stated, interrupting his brother and quieting him with a gesture of his hand.
"You do us no good by stating your upset in such loud, vehement tones.
" Much to his relief, his brother let out a long, heavy sigh and then, with a shake of his head, looked away from Nathaniel and snapped his fingers at a footman so he might order a drink.
Nathaniel said nothing, somewhat irritated when his brother only ordered one glass of brandy rather than asking him if he wished for a glass himself.
If he wishes to be childish, then I shall let him. Drawing in a breath, Nathaniel lifted his chin. "James, I have asked you to trust me. Do you think that, despite your own reservations, you might be able to do so?"
His brother scowled. "Trusting you does not mean that I cannot give voice to my concerns."
"And what are your concerns?" Nathaniel asked, growing exasperated.
"Are they not the same as my own?" He lifted an eyebrow, seeing his brother's scowl only deepen.
"You know very well that my thoughts turn only to the reputation of our family and the potential damage that must be prevented.
In aiding Miss Fairleigh as I am, I seek to prevent all that both you and I fear may come to pass.
Besides that, she has no one else to aid her.
Her own father, as well you know, has shame enough of his own, even using her dowry to placate his creditors. I am glad to be of aid to her."
James threw back his brandy in one gulp, slammed the glass back on the tray which the footman had not yet taken away, then ordered another. "Then you think," he continued, as the footman hurried away, "that Miss Fairleigh deserves this fortune?"
Nathaniel blinked, taken aback by the acerbic tone. "What our great-aunt determined to do with her vast fortune can be none of our concern, brother."
"I think she was mistaken in her action.
Everyone in London — perhaps in all England — knows that Lord Harding is a gentleman not to be trusted when it comes to money and fortune.
For heaven's sake, Ashcombe, he has not even been able to care for his own daughter's dowry, according to what you yourself have learned from her. "
Nathaniel pressed his lips flat together, wondering silently if he ought not to have said a single word about Miss Fairleigh's dowry. It had only been to garner his brother's sympathy, but unfortunately, James now seemed all the more vehemently against the lady.
"He will, no doubt, take her inheritance and squander it," James continued, his eyes narrowing in Nathaniel's direction, as if he were to blame.
"And even if there is a way for him to be kept from it, she will, no doubt, do the very same thing, for she has no other example to follow than that of her ridiculous father.
" Brandishing one finger in Nathaniel's direction, James's voice rose once more.
"You should be protecting our family name, yes, but perhaps finding a way to prevent the lady from gaining her inheritance.
That way, it will return to the estate, as you have told me, and the money then given to those in Lady Warrington's family who truly deserve it. "
Pushing himself to his feet, Nathaniel let out a slow breath and tempered his anger.
It had flared the very moment his brother had started speaking of Miss Fairleigh in such terms, and he knew the conversation must come to an end.
If it did not, then he feared he might start shouting back at his brother and bringing much unwanted attention to them both.
"I think I must retire," he said, as his brother glowered at him.
"We can talk again on the matter if you wish, but I will not change my response, James.
I am doing what I think is best — I will assist Miss Fairleigh as she seeks to find out the truth so she might gain her inheritance and be free of all and any scandal. Good evening to you."
The night was unusually cool for a late summer evening, and the faint breeze that stirred the leaves all around Nathaniel did nothing to warm him.
Standing by the wrought-iron gate that appeared to be more of a feature than an object of purpose, Nathaniel could not help but feel the contrast between his present situation and the lively ball going on inside the house.
The strains of laughter and music drifted towards him, but here he stood, refusing to be pulled towards it.
He had to speak with Miss Fairleigh and, given that they had both received an invitation to this ball, he had considered it a good place to meet.
The gardens were mercifully quiet, allowing him the chance to speak with the lady without either being seen or being interrupted by others.
"Lord Ashcombe?"
He started lightly, having not heard her approach as he turned to see her coming towards him, her face and hair lit by the moonlight. Her aunt, he noted, stood a short distance away, keeping a sharp eye upon her charge. "Miss Fairleigh. Good evening."
She met him with a small, sad smile. "I am grateful to have been invited to the ball this evening, Lord Ashcombe. I am also grateful for the opportunity to step away from the many dark glances and darting whispers that are continually pressed upon me."
His brow furrowed. He clasped his hands behind his back, his right thumb pressing hard into his palm. "Still, they push you away?"
"It would seem that society wishes to continually gossip about Lady Warrington's interest," she answered, an edge of pain biting her words.
"I have heard now that I was born out of wedlock and Lady Warrington, knowing of it, chose to offer me a fortune that no one else could give.
It is to make certain that when I am rejected, when it is known that I was born into such a situation, I will at the same time have enough coin to take care of my future.
" Her voice dropped low, her eyes falling to the ground between them as if there were some sort of shame pressing her down.
"None of that is true, of course, but it is yet another whisper from those in the ton. "
"Not one to be believed, surely," Nathaniel said, as Miss Fairleigh let out a small sigh which was quickly picked up by the breeze and chased away. "I am sorry that such things are being said of you, Miss Fairleigh. I know that would not have been my great-aunt's intent."
Her eyes lifted to his, but she said nothing, holding her gaze to his.
Nathaniel's throat ached with the urge to say more, to express more consideration and sympathy towards her, only for guilt to throw such feelings aside.
What would be the purpose of such words?
It would do nothing to aid her. Yes, it might comfort her, but was he not doing the very same as society by insisting upon such quiet, clandestine meetings?
I am protecting my family name, he reminded himself. That is my duty and my purpose in this. "I am sorry to change our conversation to other matters, but I must ask you — has there been any further progress in what you have learned from Lady Hargreaves? Did you speak with any other?"
Miss Fairleigh dropped her head so quickly, he wondered if he had insulted her in some way by asking such questions. When she spoke again, however, it was not the halting, uncertain voice he had come to expect. There was a steadiness to it, a quiet resolve that made him look at her more carefully.
"I have found something, Lord Ashcombe."
He stilled. "Found something?"
She reached into the folds of her shawl and drew out two pages, folded together with care.
Her fingers did not tremble as she held them towards him — but they pressed the paper tightly, as if the pages were something precious she was not entirely ready to surrender.
"After I returned from Lady Hargreaves, I could not sleep.
I kept thinking about what she had told me, about how Lady Warrington knew that my father's debts had eased.
And I remembered something." She drew in a breath.
"My mother wrote to my aunt regularly, every week, sometimes more.
Lady Newark kept every letter. I went to her study that evening and found them. "
Nathaniel took the offered pages, unfolding them with the same care she had used.
The first was in a woman's hand — flowing, measured, clearly that of a gentlewoman.
He read the passage she indicated, the words landing with a force that caught him off guard: a sum was paid on his behalf by a benefactor who wished to remain unknown.
His eyes lifted to hers.