Chapter 4
The Duchess of Ashworth leaned back in her chair. The letter from her hired investigator was not encouraging.
Trail gone cold. Last confirmed sighting, Paris, six weeks prior. No forwarding address. No known associates in the area willing to speak.
Will continue inquiries, but must advise Your Grace to prepare for the possibility that Mr. Barrington has left the Continent.
Left the Continent, Mr. Hartwell had written. Which meant her sister's husband could be anywhere. He could even now be in England. Which meant—
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to panic. So she drew in three more deep, steadying breaths and then folded the letter, locking it in the drawer with the others.
Her sister and the boy were hidden, far from London. Whatever Barrington was doing, and wherever he was, he believed Lydia was dead.
So long as he continued to believe that, her sister and nephew would be safe. But no matter how often she repeated that to herself, the dread settled in her chest. She could not quite shake it loose.
A knock at the study door provided a welcome interruption.
"Your Grace?" Her housekeeper appeared. "Miss Evermore is here."
Miss Evermore. The duchess blinked. Estella's friend, Thea? She turned to the housekeeper. "I didn't send for Miss Evermore."
"No, Your Grace. She says she's returning a book."
Moments later, Thea Evermore entered carrying a volume that the duchess could not recall loaning her. "You're returning a book, I hear."
"Yes, Your Grace. You'd said last time I visited that I could help myself to His Grace's scientific tomes, so I borrowed this one." Thea set the large book on Philippa's desk with a decisive thud. "I disagree with nearly all of it."
The duchess's lips twitched with amusement. She wasn't entirely sure what the girl expected her to say about that. She tilted her head to read the title. An Essay on the Principle of Population.
She settled on, "I'm sorry to hear that." Philippa gestured to the chair. "Sit. Have tea."
Thea sat and Philippa poured. She might not have sent for the girl, but her timing was fortuitous. Ever since Estella had found a happy match with Lord Blackwood, Philippa had set her sights on aiding Estella's friend Thea next.
The problem was, Thea did not wish to be aided.
And so Philippa was attempting, in her way, to subtly bring the girl around to the idea. This was not easy considering Philippa had little talent for subtlety and Thea was too smart for her own good. But she was also blunt and almost entirely without social instinct.
As far as Philippa could determine, the girl was also almost entirely without family protection, though Thea was maddeningly evasive on this point.
She came from a good family. Philippa had looked into it. But if anyone in that family noticed their bespectacled bluestocking was roaming London unsupervised, they didn't show it.
"I've been thinking…" Philippa began.
Thea sighed. "Oh dear."
"About your situation."
Thea was already shaking her head. "I don't have a situation."
"Everyone has a situation, Miss Evermore. Yours is that you are a young woman of good birth and sharp mind with no sponsor, no chaperone, and no plan for your future beyond reading every book in London and hoping no one notices you've reached marriageable age."
"I see no flaw in it," Thea said.
"The flaw is that someone will notice. And when they do, you will need allies." Philippa set down the teapot. "I am offering to be one."
Thea stared at her unblinking. It was oddly unnerving. "You are offering to manage me."
Philippa just barely bit back a smile. "I am offering to help you."
"I do not see how the two differ," Thea said.
Philippa allowed herself a small smile. She liked this girl. She liked her enormously, in fact, which was precisely why she wasn't going to let her disappear into a library for the rest of her life.
"I don't need a patroness." Thea's voice was firm but not unkind. "I appreciate the offer, Your Grace. Truly. But I'm perfectly content as I am."
Philippa recognized the stubbornness in those clear eyes. It was not unlike the stubbornness she saw in her own mirror. So…she would not push. At least, not today.
"Very well," Philippa said. "We'll continue the discussion at another time."
Thea visibly relaxed and for a long moment they enjoyed their tea in silence. But then Thea set her cup down. "You know… If you're looking for someone who actually needs your help, you might consider Lady Clarissa Whitfield."
Philippa looked up. "Lady Clarissa?"
"The Earl of Hawthorn's daughter. She was at the Hartington ball the other night." Thea took a bite of her biscuit. "Estella mentioned her. The ton has given her a rather vile nickname."
Philippa frowned. "What sort of nickname?"
Thea's expression tightened with anger. "Cast-Off Clarissa."
Before Philippa could respond, the study door opened again and Estella swept in, flushed. "Your Grace, I'm so sorry to arrive unannounced but I had to tell you about the other night." She stopped when she saw Thea. "Thea. Good. You're here. Did you tell her?"
Thea nodded. "I was in the process."
Estella dropped into the chair beside Thea. Philippa hid her surprise. Yes, Estella had lived here temporarily. And during this time Thea had been welcome to come and go. But Estella had moved out, and it was still peculiar to Philippa that they continued to drop in unannounced.
Not that Philippa minded. In fact, she rather…enjoyed it. But it was still peculiar.
"Lady Clarissa Whitfield," Estella said, still a little breathless from rushing. "She's the woman who asked Sebastian to break off their arrangement. The one who was fighting for a match with a clergyman, and—"
Philippa held up a hand. "I recall."
After all, it wasn't every day that an earl's daughter pleaded with a marquess to refuse a match so she could marry a country vicar. It had struck her then as either very brave or very foolish, and she had not yet decided which.
"The clergyman got engaged to someone else," Estella continued. "While she was in London fighting for him. He didn't wait for her."
Philippa set down her cup. Foolish. Definitely foolish.
"And now the ton has decided she's a joke," Estella said.
"Cast-Off Clarissa. Spurned by a marquess, abandoned by a clergyman.
Half the ballroom was repeating it by the end of the night.
" Estella's lips pinched. "Your Grace…she's alone.
Well, nearly alone. She has Lord Alderton, but— Well, you remember him, do you not? "
Philippa nodded, and Estella did not need to explain. Lord Alderton was lovely. She liked him immensely. But he was kind and agreeable. Not the sort of guardian who could scare the ton into minding their tongues.
Estella continued as Thea reached for another biscuit. "Her parents sent her back to London to find another match, and she's trying so hard to be brave about it, and I just—"
"You feel responsible," Philippa said.
Estella winced. "Sebastian freely admits he did not handle that situation well. And I fear I only made matters worse, and—"
"Say no more." Philippa held up a hand again. "Your guilt is kind but misplaced."
Thea nodded in agreement. "Of course it's not your fault, Estella. But even so—" She turned to Philippa. "You really ought to help the girl."
"Me?" Philippa couldn't hide her amusement. "Why me?"
"Because you can," Thea said simply.
Estella nodded, eyes wide and pleading. "She could be your next project. Don't you think?"
Philippa slid a glance in Thea's direction. But the girl had the gall to stare back at her with wide, innocent eyes as she ate the last of her biscuit. Thea wanted some other debutante to take her place. Still…
Cast-Off Clarissa. What a horrid name.
Philippa turned it over in her mind. An earl's daughter. Good family. A young woman publicly humiliated—twice—whose parents had essentially sent her back into the arena to try again.
The girl had courage, clearly. She'd faced down Sebastian Vane, which took more nerve than most men possessed. But courage without protection was just a different kind of vulnerability.
This was exactly the sort of young woman Philippa had sworn to help. She was composing her next question when the door swung open without a knock.
"Good morning, Aunt Philippa. I've come to beg for funds again, but I thought I'd try a new approach and start with compliments. That shade of blue is very becoming—" Kit stopped. He'd registered the room. "Ah. You have guests."
When introductions were made all around, and the two young ladies were properly charmed by her rogue of a nephew, he dropped into the remaining chair as if he'd been invited. "What were we discussing? You all looked terribly serious."
"We were discussing a young woman who needs help," Estella said.
"Desperately," Thea added.
Kit's brows rose. "What sort of help?"
Estella looked at Philippa. Philippa gave the faintest nod.
"There's a young woman," Estella began. "The ton has turned against her. She's been publicly humiliated. Rejected twice, you see, and—"
"Cast-Off Clarissa?" Kit said.
All three women looked at him.
"I heard the name at the Hartington ball." He shrugged. "Cruel business, that. I heard the full story from some chap near the card room. Fought for a clergyman, marquess refused her, clergyman married someone else while she was away." He shook his head. "Poor girl."
"Do you know her?" Philippa asked. Her nephew was not exactly shy when it came to young ladies.
But he shook his head. "I just heard the rumors. But I've never met a Lady Clarissa." To Thea, he added with a wink, "I always remember a beautiful lady."
A perplexed Thea tilted her head to the side. "Then how do you know she is beautiful?"
He leaned toward her in his seat as if letting her in on a secret. "All young ladies are beautiful in their own way. Each a flower, with her own perfume and—"
"Alright, that's enough." Philippa turned back to Estella, but she didn't miss Kit's grin.
No one amused Kit more than Kit.
Philippa ignored the fact that her own lips were twitching as well as she addressed Estella. "What does she need from me?"
"She needs a friend," Estella said.
"She needs more than a friend," Thea argued. "She needs the ton to stop seeing her as a cautionary tale."
"And how does one accomplish that?" Kit asked. He seemed genuinely curious.
Estella looked thoughtful and her answer came slowly.
"You change the story. The ton doesn't care about truth.
They care about the story. If Lady Clarissa is Cast-Off Clarissa, the girl nobody wants, then the only way to undo it is to make someone want her.
Publicly. Someone whose attention would make the ton reconsider. "
Philippa nodded with no small amount of pride. She'd taught the girl well.
The room was quiet for a moment. Kit looked at Thea. Then at Estella. Then at Philippa.
Philippa watched him arrive at the conclusion she'd reached thirty seconds earlier.
"Someone like the heir to a dukedom," Kit said.
"Kit—" Philippa began.
"I could do it." He sat forward. The easy smile was back, but underneath it was something sharper and far more urgent. "If the duke's heir is seen publicly favoring Cast-Off Clarissa, the ton has to rewrite the story. She's not the girl nobody wants. She's the girl who caught the attention of—"
"Absolutely not," Philippa cut in.
"Why not?" he argued.
She let out a sharp huff. "Because you are not a weapon to be deployed, and she is not some toy."
Kit held his hands up in defense. "I'm not suggesting anything untoward.
I'm suggesting I be publicly pleasant to a young woman who's been treated abominably.
I'll dance with her, that's all. Perhaps escort her to a few events.
Let society see that she's worth the attention of someone they admire.
" His grin widened. "You did say I should dance with young ladies and make myself useful. "
"I said pleasant," she corrected. "I said be pleasant."
He opened his mouth to plead his case once more, but Philippa beat him to it. "In exchange for what?"
Kit's smile was slow, and his eyes glinted with intellect. While he loved to play the fool, no one who knew him was foolish enough to believe it.
"I am offering to be kind to someone who deserves kindness." He paused. "For a reasonable fee."
There it was.
Philippa studied her nephew. The easy grin, the charm, the casual slouch in the chair. And beneath all of it—the tension in his hands and the watchfulness in his eyes. He needed this money. She didn't know why, and it troubled her that he wouldn't say.
But she knew Kit. And she knew the good heart underneath the performance, even when he didn't.
She also knew that if she did not relent, he'd stop at nothing to find an alternative. And it was highly likely that letting him find some other, even more foolish way to get the funds was worse.
"I would need to meet her first," Philippa said.
Kit nodded. "Naturally."
"And there would be rules."
Kit scoffed. "I am very good with rules."
"You are abysmal with rules. Which is precisely why there will be many of them." She held his gaze. "This girl has been hurt, Kit. By a man who wasn't honest with her. If you agree to this, you will be kind. You will be respectful. You will not toy with her feelings for sport."
A flicker of genuine emotion darkened his blue eyes. "I would never—"
"I know." Her voice softened. "I know you wouldn't. That's the only reason I'm considering it."
Kit held her gaze for a moment longer. Then the grin slid back into place and he clapped his hands on his knees. "Excellent. So. When do I meet this Cast-Off Clarissa?"
"Don't call her that," Thea snapped.
"Lady Clarissa," he quickly corrected. "When do I meet Lady Clarissa?"
Estella was already smiling. "How about Wednesday. You and Thea can—"
"Not so fast," Philippa interrupted.
Everyone fell silent.
"I must meet with her first and see if she is amenable to this arrangement." Here she shot Thea a reproachful look. "Not everyone is so grateful for my patronage."
Thea smiled. But Estella nodded. "Oh, yes. You're probably right. You really ought to meet her first." She stole a look at Kit. "Er…likely alone."
"Of course alone," Philippa agreed. "No sense in throwing a lamb to the wolves until she agrees to the arrangement."
Thea and Estella nodded, but Kit turned to her with a frown. "Pardon me, but am I— Did you just call me a wolf?"