March 1817
Raindrops rattled on the roof of the carriage that carried Miss Liberty Lovejoy and her sister Hope through the dark, slick streets of a rain-drenched London.
‘Liberty. I beg you...please do not do this. Gideon will never forgive you.’
Liberty wrenched her attention from the passing streets and resolutely swallowed down her own burgeoning doubt. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. Someone must save Gideon from himself.
‘I have to do something, Hope. Gideon is running amok and it is all the fault of Lord Alexander Beauchamp. Gideon will be grateful to me for saving him from the results of his own folly. Eventually.’
‘Well, I do not think you are fair to embroil me without warning,’ said Hope tartly. ‘You said we were going to Hookham’s. I would never have agreed to accompany you if I knew you intended to visit Alexander’s father, of all people. He is a duke, Liberty. People like us do not just call upon a duke.’
Hope’s reaction did not surprise Liberty—she had given up expecting support from either of her sisters when there was any unpleasantness to deal with. They had been so young when their parents had died within days of one another and they had come to rely on Liberty and her twin brother, Gideon—just nineteen at the time—to take charge. Uncle Eustace was worse than useless...far too selfish to stir himself, even though he had been appointed their guardian. It was no wonder her entire family took Liberty for granted.
‘If you are afraid to come in, you may remain in the carriage while I speak to the Duke. I cannot afford the luxury of fear.’ Oh, but how she wished she could order Bilk, their coachman, to turn the carriage around and drive back to their rented London house. ‘It is my responsibility as the eldest—’
‘You are the eldest by a mere five minutes, Liberty Louisa Lovejoy, and Gideon now happens to be an earl.’
‘His conduct is more reminiscent of an overgrown schoolboy than a peer of the realm,’ retorted Liberty.
Since Liberty’s twin brother had unexpectedly acceded to the Earldom of Wendover last autumn his behaviour had grown increasingly exasperating. Was it really asking too much of him to help her to secure their sisters’ futures instead of careening around town and frittering his newfound prosperity on wine, cards and horses and in the pursuit of females who were no better than they should be? Besides, she missed Gideon and how they had worked together to ensure the survival of their family.
‘Well, I would say that being an earl makes him senior to you, do you not? Do not forget we are all reliant on his goodwill now if we do not wish to be banished back to Eversham with Uncle Eustace. I think it is very generous of Gideon to fund a Season for all three of us at the same time.’
Liberty clenched her jaw. If Hope only knew how much persuasion it had taken for Gideon to agree to his sisters coming to London in the first place...left to himself, she had no doubt her twin would have been content for his sisters to remain hidden away at Eversham for ever while he lived the high life to which he now felt entitled.
She stared out of the window, seeing neither the grey streets they passed nor the people hurrying along beneath their umbrellas, wrapped in coats and cloaks against the dreadful dark, cold and wet weather that had assailed the entire country for the past year. If it were not for Hope and Verity she would much prefer to still be at home, running the house for Uncle Eustace—her late mother’s unmarried brother who had always made his home with the Lovejoys—and living in quiet obscurity.
But Hope and Verity, at one-and-twenty and nineteen respectively, deserved a chance to better themselves in life. After their parents’ deaths there had been neither opportunity nor funds for the younger Lovejoy sisters to even dream of a come out, not until the unexpected death of a distant cousin and his two sons in a house fire and Gideon’s sudden preferment.
‘And do not forget what Mrs Mount said.’ Hope’s words broke into Liberty’s train of thought. ‘It is bad etiquette to call on your social superiors before they have left their card with you.’
Mrs Mount was the lady they had hired as duenna during their sojourn in London. The daughter of a viscount and now the widow of the younger son of an earl, she had many acquaintances within the ton and was thus perfectly placed to help steer the Lovejoy girls through the mysteries of polite society. Well, perfectly placed if Liberty chose to follow her advice. Which, in this instance, she did not.
‘It is a certainty that the Duke of Cheriton is never likely to leave his card for us,’ said Liberty, ‘so I do not see that I have any choice if I am to persuade him to control his son’s wild behaviour.’
‘I cannot believe that a duke will take kindly to a country squire’s daughter lecturing him on how he should control his son. Libby—it is not too late. Please, let us go home and I promise I will help you talk some sense into Gideon.’
‘But we have tried that, Hope, many times, and he ignores us. I fear his new status has gone to his head and that he will never be the same again.’
She was not even certain she much liked the man her twin had become. He had become secretive and thoughtless, and the closeness that had bound the two of them together throughout their childhood now felt as though it hung by the most fragile of threads.
It breaks my heart, this distance between us.
Liberty slid one gloved hand inside her woollen cloak and pressed it to her upper chest, rubbing in a soothing, circular motion, but the familiar hollow ache remained, as it had for the five years since her childhood sweetheart, Bernard, died.
Being back in London had resurrected those dreadful memories and, with them, the guilt. If only she hadn’t been so selfish by accepting the offer from her wealthy godmother to sponsor her through a London Season. If only she had stayed at home, Bernard and her parents might still be alive. At the very least she would have been able to say goodbye to her husband-to-be. A knot of disquiet had taken root in her stomach since their arrival in London...a nagging reminder of her selfishness and her failure.
Well, she would not fail Gideon, or the girls. And if it meant calling on a duke unannounced, then so be it.
In an unexpected gesture, Hope clasped Liberty’s hand.
‘You cannot protect all of us all the time, Liberty. Gideon is a grown man. I know you miss the old Gideon, but he will come to his senses, you’ll see.’
‘But what if he does not? What if I sit by and do nothing and he ends up destroying himself? And that’s quite apart from the damage his wild behaviour will do to you and Verity.’
Their background would be hurdle enough without