His brother Lucas would love that he found himself flat on his backside with his head handed to him within minutes of arriving. What a fitting beginning to what was likely to prove a dismal week.
‘Ellie, wait.’
Ellie stopped halfway up the stairs, indulging in a string of mental curses. She didn’t wish to speak to anyone in her present state, not even Henry.
‘I’ve escaped the steward and was just about to set off in search of you, Ellie. There is tea in... Good Lord, what happened to you? Have you fallen down a coal chute?’ Henry’s eyes widened as they took in the state of her skirts and the uncharacteristic anger on her face.
‘I must change, Henry.’
‘First come into the parlour and tell me what’s about before the three witches find us. Come, tea and lemon seed cake are just what you need...’ Henry coaxed.
The smile and the concern in his sky-blue eyes were a balm after the look of distaste that had doused the laughter in Mr Sinclair’s grey eyes the moment he realised who her father was.
Though how someone with his reputation had the gall to look down upon a fellow reprobate...
She shouldn’t be surprised—it was the way of the world that even rakes and rascals felt superior to those of their breed foolish enough to sink into debt and disgrace. Apparently the notion of there but for the grace of God go I didn’t occur to the likes of Charles Sinclair. Chase, Indeed! She would like to chase him off with a croquet mallet!
‘You’re looking fierce, Ellie. Is this Lady Ermintrude’s fault?’
‘No. I had an encounter with your cousin,’ she said and he grinned, looking even more angelically boyish.
‘Dru or Fen did this? Over me? Good lord, I wouldn’t have thought they had the pluck!’
‘Not them, you vain popinjay. Your cousin The Right Honourable Charles Sinclair. Though I saw nothing very honourable about him.’
His grin vanished.
‘Oh, lord, is Chase here already? And what the devil do you mean you had an encounter? I’ve heard he’s a devil with the ladies, but...’
‘Henry Giles Whelford!’
‘Sorry, Eleanor. I was funning... Never mind. I thought you were at the Folly escaping Aunt Ermintrude.’
‘I was. He appeared there while I was trying to read Susan’s letter. And he is a hundred times worse than you said.’
‘Is he? I mean...what on earth did he do?’
‘He accused me of stealing! And then he took my letter and when I tried to take it back we almost fell down the stairs.’
‘No! Ellie, are you hurt? Do let me see.’
Her anger fizzled at the concern in her friend’s voice.
‘I’m not hurt, but I never should have allowed you to convince me to masquerade as your betrothed. I knew everything would go wrong.’
‘Hush!’ Henry flapped his hands, glancing at the closed door. ‘You never know when that sneaky Pruitt might be hovering about listening at keyholes. If I am to protect your reputation, the engagement must remain just between us, Lady Ermintrude and her nieces.’
‘I know, but I’ve already blurted it out to Mr Sinclair.’
‘What? Why on earth...?’
‘I don’t know. He looked at me so suspiciously and the words were out before I could think. I warned you I am dreadful at subterfuge. If I had not been so desperate...’
‘We are both desperate, remember?’
‘My problems are slightly more serious than yours,’ she replied sharply. ‘If I cannot find the funds to prevent the banks from foreclosing on Whitworth, Edmund and Susan and Anne and Hugh will lose their home at best and end up in debtors’ prison at worst. I think that is a little more fateful than whether you can withstand Lady Ermintrude’s pressure to wed one of her nieces. I did try to recover my mistake by telling him it was to remain a secret while you were in mourning.’
‘Well, that should be enough—Chase was never one to spill. Matters are a little more complicated here than I thought, but once I untangle the accounts I am certain to find a way to raise the funds to prevent the banks foreclosing on Whitworth. And then in a few weeks you may jilt me and I will mope around, declaring myself inconsolable and determined never to wed and that will put an end to Aunt Ermintrude’s plans to force me into marrying Dru or Fen. By the time she overcomes her scruples I will hopefully have the Manor sufficiently on its feet so I can dispense with her funds.’
‘I still think this is madness, Henry. I don’t know if I shall uphold this masquerade for days, let alone weeks. Besides, the children never had to manage without me...’
‘Well, high time they did. Susan and Edmund wouldn’t thank you for calling them children. Why, Susan is almost on the shelf herself.’
‘Thank you kindly, Henry. I’m well aware of my advancing years.’
‘You’re still a year younger than I so listen to a wise old man—it will come right in the end. I promise. All you must do is be precisely who you are—the indomitable Miss Eleanor Walsh. If you could keep Whitworth afloat for the past five years, beating back bankers and creditors from the doorstep, you can take on one ill-tempered spinster. Well, three of them. You’ve already made grand progress last night, admiring Aunt Ermintrude’s brooch. Now she is convinced you are a scheming golddigger.’
‘I was trying to make polite conversation!’
‘Well, some more of that politeness and she’ll be mighty pleased with me when you jilt me. It’s deuced uncomfortable that Uncle Huxley allowed the estate to become dependent on her funds, but I suspect that was her doing, trying to make herself indispensable. No doubt she wished it was her and not her sister Hattie my poor uncle married.’
‘I feel rather sorry for her...’
‘Well, don’t be. There isn’t a shred of kindness in her.’
‘It was kind of her to take Drusilla and Fenella in when their parents died.’
‘That isn’t kindness. She brought them here like two dolls and treated them just the same. If they weren’t so annoying, I would feel sorry for them. Why, Dru is twenty-three and has never had a true Season even though she is an heiress in her own right. It’s shameful.’
‘There, that is something for you to do. Really, you led me to believe they were much worse than they are. Once I break your heart, I suggest you take your cousins to town and find them husbands.’
‘Fen might enjoy it, but Dru prefers the country. You should have seen her today when she came with me and the steward out to the pastures, the two of them rattling on about sheep and wool and lambing until I was ready to cry. I can’t see her enjoying the brouhaha of London any more than I would.’
‘I think it a good sign Dru made such a gesture of goodwill. You should encourage her to come out with you more often, knowing she will enjoy it more than embroidering with her aunt.’
‘It feels more like a cross between a lecture and a scold than a gesture of goodwill.’
‘Well, she is rather shy...’
‘Shy? Dru? The girl tore strips out of me that time I put frogs in her bed. Had me carry them all the way back to the pond in the dark.’
‘Well, you were a horrid little