Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The next day Lady Winthrop was still in bed with a headache when Lady Langley suggested Adelaide accompany her to the shops.

"I need a young person's opinion about a hat I spied the other day. Could you assist? My niece, Miss Pym, is much the same coloring as you, and I wish to make her a present when she arrives on Friday."

Adelaide agreed, though she would have preferred to stay in her room and cry since she expected to be undisturbed by Lady Winthrop for several more hours. The older lady had drunk to excess the night before after receiving a letter from her son just after dinner.

The letter held such disturbing and life-altering news that she harangued Adelaide for hours, railing, wailing, and blaming until, finally, sleep and the effects of whisky took her as she sat on the chaise longue in her sitting room. Adelaide had called Sally to help her put the older woman to bed and make her comfortable so she would not waken and resume her tirade. And then Adelaide did what no one ever should. She picked up the discarded letter and, upon reading the words, crumpled to the floor. Poor Sally, who should have been long abed, had to work even harder to get Adelaide up and settled as well.

When they arrived at the haberdashery, Adelaide was feeling a bit more herself, pleased to forget her troubles for a few hours and happy to give her opinion. Lady Langley had been so kind to her in the past few weeks, and she enjoyed being able to return a kindness, no matter how small.

They made the purchase and were about to step into the notions shop for matching ribbons, when Lord Culpepper appeared with his companion.

"Well met," said Culpepper to Lady Langley, "for Kingsley and I were just coming to tell you of Miss Louisa Musgrove's progress." He bowed to them both. "Kingsley has it from a mutual friend of Captain Benwick—who has been attending Miss Louisa, reading to her, and generally keeping up her spirits—that she is improved, though still in danger."

"Thank you for taking the time to tell me," said Lady Langley. "For we have been much concerned, haven't we, my dear?" She turned to Adelaide who said that indeed they had been much concerned.

"You are early to the shops," said Lord Culpepper to Lady Langley.

"Oh, we have much to prepare, for my niece will arrive on Friday, just in time for the Ravensburg ball. Are you going to the ball, Lord Culpepper?"

Adelaide did not hear the answer, for Edward beckoned for Adelaide to join him a few feet away.

"I did not get the opportunity, yesterday, to inquire how you are," said Edward in low tones. "Have you been back to Stonehurst in recent months?"

What could she say? How could she convey her shame?

"Captain Kingsley, how can you wish to speak to me after what my father did to you?"

"Your father? "

"If not for his outlandish dreams of breeding horses, Stonehurst would not be in such a sad state."

"Your father's plans were not outlandish dreams. They were sound, and I believe they could have been very fruitful. But they were only plans. He did not spend a penny."

"But you must be mistaken," she said. "The Winthrops have spared no chance to tell me of the extent of the debt my father left behind."

"Please call me Edward as you once did," he said. "For nothing has changed in that regard on my side."

"Edward…" she said slowly, as though trying on an old beloved outfit to see if it still fit. She liked the way his name sounded out loud. "I don't know how you can still have any feelings toward me but pity."

"On that score, my feelings have never wavered, Adelaide." Her eyes flew open at the sound of her name. "May I still call you Adelaide?"

"Yes," she whispered, "though I know I do not deserve such kindness."

"Your father was a good and just land steward," said Edward. "Upon that you can depend. I know, for I have seen the books, and I know how much thought went into his plans for improvements."

She shook her head. This was not right. How could what he said be true?

He held up his hand and continued. "Your father, when he died, left the estate in funds enough to achieve his dreams of horse breeding and more."

"You have been away; how could you know?"

"Adelaide, since I returned, I have learned the current Lord Winthrop came into his inheritance in so much debt that he used up those funds and more, and is still in dun territory."

Adelaide's brought her hands to her face, afraid to say something that could be overheard. Her relief was great, but her memory of the night before intruded, and fear climbed up into her chest as it had when she'd read Lord Winthrop's letter. "Oh, Edward," she said. " Lady Winthrop received word yesterday about the entail. I am so worried. My father would be devastated."

"The entail?"

"Lady Winthrop received word from her son that he has succeeded in breaking the entail and Stonehurst will be sold forthwith. I am never to see my home again." She blinked back the tears hard, for once they started to fall, she feared she would not be able to stop them.

He looked surprised. "They are selling?"

"As soon as he can find a buyer—which, I am sure, he will. To pay off Father's debts." They shared a look. He did not believe they were her father's debts. If only it were true. But how could he know, having been gone from England so very long? "I am so afraid of what will become of Sally and me. Where will we go? What if they don't keep me on?" For she knew that her worth was tied to the house, to the title, to being a gently born lady.

"It says much that you should be as concerned about Sally as yourself," he said. "But perhaps things are not as black as they seem."

"I am so worried about Sally; I live in constant dread. My ring, my mother's ring, has gone missing, and I am sure she will be blamed." She found the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them, as though she had been waiting for someone trustworthy to tell all her troubles. If Edward's character was indeed unchanged, he would keep her confidences.

"The ruby ring you received on your sixteenth birthday?" he asked.

"The very one," she said. "I am surprised you remember it."

"I remember the delight you felt when your mother gifted it to you," he said. "You showed it to me. I remember it well."

"I so loved that ring, not least because my mother gave it to me only a few weeks before the accident."

"And it is missing?" His concern was gratifying. Even if she never saw it again, at least he knew how she felt and understood what it had meant. She had missed having someone in her life who had known her before she became a companion, when she was a young miss with a bright future ahead of her.

"I am so worried Sally will be blamed and turned off, and she is so loyal. But I can't think I lost it, for it was in a box in the far back of the drawer. But I also can't think who would take it."

Edward glanced toward Lord Culpepper and Lady Langley, who were starting to take their leave of each other. "Adelaide," he said, "I wanted to talk to you, and I am sorry to do so under such circumstances, but I want, I need to ask you something."

"Yes," she said. "I am sorry. I should not have burdened you with this."

"It has not been a burden. I wish you would always share your troubles with me."

"Thank you." She glanced up at him. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Do you remember our conversations before I left? The ones where we made plans to help your father?"

"Oh, yes. Those were lovely days, weren't they?"

"Would you consider making plans with me again?" he asked.

She stared at him. Was he asking what she thought he was? But before she could answer him, Lady Langley called to her.

"Come, my dear. We must get to the fabric shop before we go home, and Lady Winthrop will be waiting."

Adelaide turned toward the lady and nodded. "Yes, Lady Langley." But before she stepped away, she turned back to Edward to take her leave.

"Will we see you at the Ravensburg ball?" she asked, loud enough for Lady Langley to hear.

"I have some business in town," said Edward. "If I can complete it and be back by then, I will be there."

"It was nice to see you again, Captain Kingsley. Please send my regards to your sister."

"Adelaide," he said quietly, so that Lady Langley could not hear. "Do you trust me? "

"Of course." She said it without hesitation. For nowhere could there be a man with more integrity than Edward.

"Then try not to worry. I have a plan to help you and Sally both."

"Thank you, Captain Kingsley," she said, for Lady Langley's ears—and then, more quietly, "I trust you Edward, and I would adore making plans with you for the rest of my life."

The ladies walked away to continue their errands, and Miles rejoined Edward.

"Did you ascertain what you needed to know?"

"Yes," he said. "She and I are still on a first-name basis, and I now understand why she has been hanging back. She believes her father is to blame for the debts."

"And who would be available to tell her otherwise?" asked Miles. "She would not know the people you and I know."

"But to blame her father and feel shame for years—when he was blameless of everything but being cut down in his prime—is criminal."

"What is your next move?"

"I have business in London for the next three days. If I can be back for the ball, I will. Meanwhile, I have a small favor to ask of you here."

"Anything to keep me a few days longer. I appreciate the sea air and the break from my father. And I would like to help Lady Langley if I can. She has endured the dragon for far too long."

"Thank you I will find a way to return the favor one day."

He strode off toward his temporary lodgings and then hired himself a horse.