Chapter 15

CHAPTER

a

15

Y ou're awfully quiet this evening." Georgina frowned at Theo and said, "How did you like the play?"

Theo shrugged. "It was all right, I guess. It was billed as a comedy, but I didn't find it to be particularly funny."

"I thought it was too risqué. I'm wondering if the Matron's Brigade shouldn't have a chat with the manager. I'm not certain it's the type of story that should be allowed a public airing."

Theo snapped at her. "Oh, for pity's sake, Georgina! It was a frivolous amusement, meant to entertain the masses who, by the way, have very dreary lives. Why must every facet of the world be viewed through your fussy lens?"

Georgina stumbled to a halt. It was the rudest remark Theo had ever uttered in her presence. Theo was the polite stepdaughter, the obedient stepdaughter. She worked very hard to be pleasant and amenable. Her sister, Charlotte, was the horrid stepdaughter, the impudent stepdaughter, and the chastisement was what Georgina would have expected from Charlotte. Not Theo.

Theo had been home from the country for several weeks, and while she constantly insisted she was fine, a painful incident must have occurred when she was away on holiday. She seemed to be a different person and she'd grown watchful and contemplative. She'd lost interest in ordinary events and she never wanted to shop or run errands. Despite the activity Georgina suggested, Theo claimed she was too tired to join in.

Georgina had finally put her foot down and demanded Theo accompany her to the theater. They hadn't attended in ages and another member of the Brigade had given her tickets. The woman had seen the comedy and had felt it contained inappropriate content. She'd asked Georgina to provide her opinion.

So far, the Brigade hadn't focused on plays or the playwrights who wrote them. They were all men, so it was wise to steer clear. Georgina would like to open up a wider avenue of protests, but it would be controversial. Then again, they were always searching for projects and missions that would attract more followers.

As usual, there had been a few actresses in the show who could be viable targets, and if the group stirred a tempest, it would supply her with some vindication and revenge. She was still smarting from her experience at the Ralston Midsummer Festival, where Lord Ralston had sent her and Gertrude away in disgrace. It was a humiliation from which she doubted she would ever recover.

The performance had just ended and they were walking down the street to their carriage. The area was packed with pedestrians, as London's High Society enjoyed a night on the town. Normally, she relished the sight of the Quality promenading, but Theo had ruined her good mood.

"Theo Cronenworth!" she fumed, her tone scolding. "What's happened to you lately? You have no call to speak so disrespectfully to me."

"You forced me to come to the theater with you, but all you've done is whine about it. If you're so annoyed by artistic endeavor, why torture yourself? Why torture me too?"

"I forced you to come because you're suffering from intense melancholia and you need to buck up and yank yourself out of it. You're wasting away, locked in dark rooms and drawing sketches in your notebook."

"It makes me happy to draw sketches."

"It's unnatural for you to behave so morosely and I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong. Why must you badger me?"

"If I'm badgering you, it's your own fault. Since you returned from Peachtree, you've changed, and I don't like the alterations. Where is the old Theo hiding?"

Theo snorted with disgust. "She might be dead and buried."

"Precisely my point. No one likes this new version. Especially me."

The throng parted, and suddenly, Theo gestured and said, "Look! There's Arthur. Shall I hail him? Maybe he'd like to ride home with us."

Arthur was strolling up ahead and he wasn't alone. He had a young lady on his arm, and she was short and pert, voluptuous and pretty, with bouncy blond curls and big blue eyes.

From the bright red of her gown, and the low cut of the bodice, it was obvious she was a tart—and that he was very besotted. He was staring at her as if she were a goddess that had flown down from the moon. They were ardently attached and he'd never gazed at Theo—his fiancée—as he was gazing at his enticing paramour.

Georgina would have liked to declare that she was shocked to learn of Arthur consorting with a doxy, but she wasn't. He was rich and important, and prominent gentlemen caroused with fallen women. It was the same with their hobby of gambling, which was a vice none of them could avoid. If Arthur didn't gamble and chase trollops, he would lose his status among the fast crowd where he thrived.

Theo nodded toward them and said, "Arthur is strutting like a peacock. Do you recognize her?"

"No. I've never seen her before."

"He's quite fond. If we blustered over, would he introduce us?"

Georgina grimaced. "I'm sure he wouldn't."

A cab pulled up next to Arthur and he lifted his companion into the vehicle. He climbed in too, and they rolled away, but not before Theo caught a glimpse of him as he clasped the vixen's hand and kissed it.

Theo gaped at the spot where he'd been, then she said, "That was interesting."

"I didn't find it to be."

"She's very fetching, don't you think? Who do you suppose she is? Where might they be going?"

"I have no idea, but we shouldn't speculate."

"Arthur seemed delighted with her."

"I didn't notice."

She grabbed Theo and spun her away, praying—if Theo was moving in the opposite direction—the scene would fade from her mind.

They were still marching to the pair's wedding, and it was to be held in September, but whenever Georgina mentioned that they should begin the preparations, Theo found excuses to delay. With their stumbling on Arthur, in the middle of a romantic tryst, Georgina was more convinced than ever that the ceremony needed to be rushed.

She'd talk to Arthur about applying for a Special License, so they could proceed immediately. She suspected Arthur's little slattern was the reason he hadn't been keen to hurry, but matters were deteriorating, and postponement wasn't an option.

v

Theo sat in a rented cab on a quiet street near the theater district. It was a neighborhood populated by actors, musicians, and other artistic types, and since they often worked late into the evening, none of them were out and about so early. The place was deserted.

She'd become a spy and her hired driver an accomplice in her skullduggery. When she'd waved him down and had told him what she intended, he'd been willing to assist her. She was paying him to dawdle, so he was content to linger if pennies kept dropping into his purse.

It had probably been an insane impulse, but she'd followed Arthur in order to discover where he went in the day. After her horrendous visit to the country, where she'd fallen so in love with Jackson Bennett that she'd ruined herself for him, she felt as if her innards were frozen. Her broken heart was barely beating, and because she was so bereft, she hadn't been able to muster much energy in any part of her life.

She had to have several lengthy discussions with Arthur and Georgina, then she had to cry off from her betrothal, but she couldn't press forward. First, she was too forlorn to initiate a quarrel with them. Second, once she backed out, she couldn't imagine what would happen.

She lived with them and they supported her. As her father's daughter, she expected that support, and there had never been a question as to whether it would be furnished. Yet if she failed to behave as Georgina was demanding, how might the vicious shrew react?

It was entirely possible that Theo would be evicted and cut off financially. What would she do then? Even though she'd resided in London for years, she didn't have any friends who might be inclined to offer her shelter. Women her own age had husbands and children to tend, so Theo had never made much progress at fitting in.

She'd repeatedly pondered Jackson's view of Arthur, and when she evaluated her situation through his eyes, every bit of it was dodgy. Georgina was fixated on the wedding, but why would she be? Theo brought no assets to the table and Georgina was very greedy. Why hadn't she drummed up an heiress for Arthur?

Theo had been home for weeks and she'd mostly hidden in her room rather than venture out. She had an unlucky knack for bumping into Jackson when she was outside, so she'd avoided any meeting by staying inside. But after observing Arthur the prior night, when he'd been strolling with a doxy for whom he possessed an obvious affection, she'd been startled out of her lethargy. Perhaps she was waking up and thawing out. She could only hope.

The girl had been pert and pretty. Was she his mistress? Was he so debauched that he would keep one? What about their finances? According to Jackson, Arthur was gambling so extravagantly that he was imperiling Theo. Mistresses weren't cheap, so how could he afford it?

Georgina hadn't been surprised that Arthur was with a tart and she'd struggled to persuade Theo to ignore what she'd witnessed. Her stepmother was such a pompous, pious blowhard, and Theo deemed it to be typical that Georgina would harass lowly actresses, but would pretend her dear son wasn't engaged in passionate mischief with a slattern.

Was Georgina aware of the affair? Was she fine with it? Was it a huge family secret, one that was carefully concealed from na?ve, gullible Theo? The likelihood filled her with such rage that she was alarmed by it.

She couldn't continue to wallow in misery, couldn't duck the conversations that had to be held. She needed a jolt of wrath to light a spark under her. Otherwise, she might simply float off into the sky in a cloud of despair.

Arthur had ridden to the neighborhood in his carriage and he'd entered a house down the block. He'd been there for two hours and she sensed her driver and his horse growing impatient. They were eager for the vigil to end and Theo wouldn't delay them much longer.

Just when she'd decided to give up, Arthur emerged and left, but not before Theo saw what she'd assumed she'd see. She waited a few minutes to be sure he wouldn't return, then she climbed out, went over, and knocked.

Arthur's female friend answered. She was even prettier up close, and at first glance, she emitted a charming air, as if she was a fresh-faced maid from the country. After a more detailed inspection, Theo realized she looked older than she'd originally appeared and much less innocent. There were worry lines around her mouth and on her forehead, but she'd smoothed them over with some cosmetics.

On discovering who had arrived, she was astonished, but she was no shrinking violet. Instead of slamming the door in horror, she smiled and said, "Hello, Miss Cronenworth. You're the very last person I thought I'd ever greet on my stoop."

"You know who I am, but we've never been introduced. Who are you?"

"I'm Nell Parsons, but you can call me Nell. Everyone does."

"And what is your position in the world?"

"I'm an opera dancer by profession."

‘My fiancé seems quite fond of you, but he hasn't ever mentioned you to me."

"Well, it wouldn't have been appropriate, would it have?"

"May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," Miss Parsons said. "Please be my guest."

"Are you certain? I have some questions to ask that might be embarrassing or difficult."

"I'm not shy, Miss Cronenworth. I'm happy to discuss any topic that interests you and you can't shock me. In fact, I've been wondering when you'd learn about me and I suppose we should talk."

v

Attorney Boswell Coswell paced in front of the house where Theodora Cronenworth was having an extended visit. She'd have to exit eventually and he'd be ready to stop her and convince her to listen.

For over two months, he'd been trying to speak with her, but he'd always approached her at the wrong place, usually after a protest by that nasty Matron's Brigade when there were large crowds milling. Currently, the street was deserted and there was nary a Matron in sight.

In normal circumstances, he'd have blustered in at the Cronenworth's town house, but he hadn't dared. Over the past year, he'd made several attempts to meet with Georgina Cronenworth, but he'd been threatened and warned to never contact her again. By all accounts, she was a malicious harpy, and if she'd had him arrested for harassment, he wouldn't have been surprised.

He liked to view himself as being very brave, but he really wasn't. The conniving witch scared him to death.

Finally, the door opened and Miss Cronenworth trudged out. She was completely deflated, as if the appointment had been particularly grueling. It would be cruel to bother her when she was so miserable, and his initial instinct was to leave her alone, but he quickly changed his mind. She was extremely dejected, so it would be easier to accost her.

He remained silent until she was a few feet away, then he clicked his heels, bowed, and said, "Hello, Miss Cronenworth. I am Boswell Coswell, Attorney at Law. May I have a minute of your time?"

He'd startled her and she jumped away. "You again! I'm not in the mood to be pestered by a lawyer. You are so rude."

He was beginning to think he'd never succeed with her, and until she relented, he'd never receive the boons to which he was entitled. He needed her as an ally in the fight with her stepmother and stepbrother.

She pushed by him, so he hurriedly added, "It's about your father's Will. Were you aware that he had one? I'm betting you weren't aware."

Apparently, it was the correct comment to garner her attention. She pulled up short, glared, and said, "My father had a Will?"

"Yes, and it was drafted by one of the premier barristers in the city." He gestured down the block to a popular teahouse. "Would you like to have a cup of tea? There are many details you desperately have to know."

v

Theo followed Mr. Coswell. She felt blind and deaf, and dizzy too, as if the Earth had tilted and she couldn't stay upright. She was so off-balance that, if her monthlies hadn't arrived on schedule, she might have feared she was increasing. Luckily, after her senseless tryst with Jackson Bennet, she hadn't suffered that catastrophe.

Her bewilderment was due to her chat with Nell Parsons. Clearly, she'd been stumbling around in the dark, not focusing on anything that mattered.

For half of a year, Miss Parsons had been Arthur's mistress. He was so enamored that he'd rented her a fashionable residence near the theater where she worked. She had six servants, plus a hefty stipend, so she could purchase whatever she required. She adored chic clothes and she spent most of it on her fabulous wardrobe.

Theo was fuming over how Arthur pinched pennies whenever she, Theo, requested some money. Other than her paltry allowance, he'd refuse to give her a farthing, and he'd be so, so sorry that he couldn't oblige her.

Recently, she'd been eager to move out on her own and have her own lodging, and he'd refused yet again, but at the same juncture, he was perfectly willing to pay for a beautiful, expensive lodging for his paramour. He would pamper Miss Parsons, but he wouldn't lift a finger to provide Theo with what she yearned to have.

It was enough of a snub to make her consider homicide as an option.

The most galling part: Georgina knew about the affair and the disbursements. Arthur's conduct was the precise sort of immoral mischief that the Matron's Brigade had been formed to prevent. Miss Parsons was the precise sort of doxy the group loved to pursue, but there was an unwritten rule that the members didn't annoy the trollops who were attached to the sons, brothers, or husbands of the other members.

Theo had been frozen, but now, she was burning with wrath, her innards so boiling hot that—if an unsuspecting man bumped into her by accident—he'd be scalded.

She and Mr. Coswell went inside the teahouse and were escorted to a table. They sat down, staring silently as they waited to be served. He was thirty-five or so, a fussy little oaf, with unremarkable brown hair and eyes. He was dressed in a cheap brown suit, a bowler hat, and spectacles. If he hadn't mentioned he was a lawyer, she would have guessed anyway.

On numerous occasions, he'd tried to speak with her, but she'd always deftly evaded him. She wasn't sure why she'd humored him this time, but she was stunned by her conversation with Nell Parsons, and she didn't dare cross paths with Arthur or Georgina until she'd calmed down and decided how to proceed.

Once the serving girl finished and they were alone, Theo said, "Well? What gossip are you so keen to share with me?"

"It's not gossip. Should I tiptoe around the issues? Or would you prefer me to be blunt?"

"Please be blunt—and brief."

"All righty then." He inhaled a deep breath, as if for courage, then he blurted out, "Everything your stepmother has told you about your life is a lie. You probably assume I'm mad, but that's basically where we are."

She studied him caustically. "You're a cocky fellow. We're not acquainted, but you presume you possess vital information about me. You're rather arrogant, aren't you?"

"I do possess it, vital information that is."

"You have some nerve to accost me on a public street."

"I would have accosted you at home, but I didn't suppose I ought."

"Why is that? It's usually viewed as normal behavior to knock on a person's door."

"I'm terrified of Mrs. Cronenworth, and even if she'd let me in, she wouldn't have permitted me to confer with you. It's why I've resorted to subterfuge."

He dug into a satchel and retrieved a thick document. He placed it in front of her and she read the inscription at the top: Last Will and Testament of Harold Cronenworth.

The sight of it was shocking and bizarrely frightening. She gaped at it as if it were a venomous snake, but she didn't reach for it. She was too scared to touch it.

"I figured there had to be a Will," she murmured, "but Georgina denied there was one. How is it that you have a copy?"

"It's a gripping story."

"It certainly must be." She pointed to it. "Tell me what's in there. Give me the short version."

"It will change your circumstances forever. In a good way though."

"Mr. Coswell!" she snapped. "You're annoying me. Tell me at once!"

"Fine. Here it is: Arthur Cronenworth doesn't own HH Imports."

She frowned. "Who does then?"

"You and your sister, Charlotte."

Theo gasped. "No, no, no, that can't be correct. You're deranged to suggest it."

"It is correct and I'm not deranged."

"Why are you in the middle of this situation?"

"My sister, Emma, was your father's mistress."

Theo choked on that one. "She was his what?"

"His mistress. She's listed as a beneficiary and was to have received a large cash gift on his passing, but it was never paid to her. She died over the winter and I am her sole heir. She didn't want to fight with your stepmother over what she was owed, but I'm delighted to take up the sword and go to battle on her behalf."

Theo was dubious about the whole unlikely tale. "How long were they attached?"

"Ten years or so? You were very young when it began and it continued until his death."

"You're extremely confused. My father married Georgina when I was eight, and he was the most pious, moral, and righteous man in the kingdom. He would never have cheated on her."

Mr. Coswell shrugged. "It's hard to fathom, but Emma was the love of his life."

Theo scoffed derisively. "Harold Cronenworth had a great love ? That's a laugh. He didn't love anyone, not even himself. You're pulling my leg and you're exhausting me. I'm about ready to depart."

"Let me hurry then. Mrs. Cronenworth hid the Will from you, but in it, an elderly Cronenworth cousin, Benedict Cronenworth, was named as trustee."

"He was my father's friend, but he's deceased."

"Yes, and before he died, he shifted the administrative duties to her. According to his old neighbors, he was ailing and a tad addled toward the end. It's my opinion that she coerced him into designating her as the trustee in his stead."

The facts were sinking in and starting to sound true. "Arthur is in charge at the company. He and Georgina claimed Father gave it to him. They showed me papers where he specified it."

"Forged," was all Coswell said.

He leafed through the pages and indicated a paragraph for her to read, and there it was, spelled out in black and white. She and Charlotte had inherited HH Imports and it was supposed to have been managed by Benedict until they were married and had husbands to run it for them. No wonder Georgina had constantly pushed for Theo to wed Arthur! He had no authority to control the business or squander the assets with his gambling, but if he became her husband, he would have all the authority.

Coswell indicated another paragraph and it showed that funds had been set aside for their dowries. The news was more astonishing than the news about the company. She and her father had never been close, and he'd never seemed to like having daughters, but on discovering that he hadn't forgotten them, she nearly burst into tears.

"Where might the dowry funds be located?" she asked. "In a bank or where? Have you any idea? Charlotte and I are still unwed, so they were never spent on us."

"I'm terribly afraid Mrs. Cronenworth will have stolen them. She and her son are living far beyond their means and they would have needed a fiscal cushion."

"She's relentlessly urged me to wed Arthur."

"Yes, I know. I've had you thoroughly investigated."

Theo finally grabbed the document and thumbed through it. On the last page, her father's signature was there with several witnesses, including Benedict. A stamp had been affixed to it, so it must have been filed as an official record in a court. It looked legal and real and she almost slid off her chair in a stunned heap.

"How did this wind up in your possession, Mr. Coswell?" she asked.

"Your father didn't trust your stepmother and he worried that she would interfere somehow in the bequest to my sister. He gave her a copy."

"Father has been dead for nine years. Where have you been? Why are you only now coming forward?"

"As I just explained, Emma didn't want to raise a fuss. There would have been a fight with your family and she couldn't bear to hurt Mrs. Cronenworth by proclaiming herself a harlot and demanding her share. Emma passed away over the winter and I have no qualms about quarreling with your kin. I realize I'll sound greedy, but I could really use the money."

"Georgina must have the original Will stashed somewhere."

"She probably burned it."

"She must know about Emma."

"She knows." He smirked with disdain. "I've contacted her numerous times, and she's repeatedly refused to hand over what is owed—after threatening me with bodily harm."

"Oh, my. This is too much to absorb."

"I recognize that it is, and I hate to dump it on you like this, but I didn't dare knock on your door. It's why I've stopped you on the street, and I apologize for harassing you, but I was at a loss as to how I should approach you."

She gestured to the Will. "May I have this?"

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't let it out of my sight."

"I understand."

He assessed her, then said, "I shouldn't overload you more than I already have, but I've heard from your mother."

Theo blanched. "My mother? Sybil Cronenworth? I'm sure you wouldn't have. She died when I was a girl."

He froze and frowned. "She didn't die. Who told you that?"

"My father. He was very certain about it."

"He lied to you. After her amorous misadventure, he chased her down in Paris and locked her in a convent as punishment. In Scotland?"

Theo started to violently shake. "That can't be right."

"He had a judge declare her to be a criminal adulteress, then he divorced her. She's been there for eighteen years."

Theo squealed with dismay. "Eighteen years?"

"Yes, but Arthur quit sending her fees, so she's being evicted next month. She's named in the Will too, but the language is about guaranteeing she's never released. I'm very concerned about the implications of Arthur's lapse. He must be broke."

"My mother is alive? You're positive?"

"Yes, there's no doubt."

It was the limit for Theo. She collapsed to the floor and huddled on her knees, gasping for air because she couldn't breathe.

Coswell leapt to her side and lifted her onto the chair. The serving girl rushed over to assist and the other customers gaped and tittered. Coswell hovered and forced her to down an entire cup of tea, then he refilled it and made her drink that too. The simple act of swallowing calmed her down, so her lungs began working again.

Coswell seated himself and he waited patiently for her to regroup. Ultimately, she was able to ask, "How should I proceed, Mr. Coswell? What would you advise?"

"Well, we have to wrench the company and the bank accounts away from your relatives. I'm happy to be your solicitor in the matter."

"I can't pay you."

"I don't require compensation now, but I hope you'll come square with me after we succeed. I've been preparing to confront them, but I couldn't move against them until I'd conferred with you."

"We should probably hurry," Theo said. "Arthur is a gambler. Were you aware of that? If we don't rein him in, there might not be a single item left to retrieve."

"From what I've learned, he's deeply in debt."

"He can afford a mistress though," she bitterly muttered. "I just found out that he's been supporting her in grand style."

"He can't continue on with her, eh? Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have plenty to say."

Theo peered around the busy restaurant, and people glanced away, not eager to be caught staring.

After talking to Nell Parsons, she'd felt dizzy and off-balance. With the information Mr. Coswell had supplied, she was even more befuddled. Her situation, the one she detested, the one where Georgina and Arthur were wedged in the middle of it, had ground to an instant halt.

She'd always comprehended that Georgina was greedy and covetous, that Arthur was lazy and spoiled, but apparently, she'd had no idea of the depths of their duplicity. Mr. Coswell seemed smart and competent and she was convinced he would rid her of them. She'd been praying for a miracle to happen and it finally had.

"Should I travel to Scotland?" she asked him. "Should I fetch my mother away from that convent?"

"I think you should. She'll be kicked out with just the clothes on her back and she has nowhere to go."

"Eighteen years," Theo murmured. "She's been locked away for eighteen years! Father pretended she was dead! Can you explain that type of cruelty to me?"

Mr. Coswell sighed. "My sister liked your father, but then, he constantly showered her with gifts. As for myself, I thought he was a hard, pompous ass."

"You're correct about that. Does Georgina know where my mother has been?"

"Yes, most definitely."

Theo bristled with rage, then she stood and gathered up her belongings. "I've had enough conversation for one day. I'm off to have a very difficult discussion with my stepmother."

"Should you speak with her by yourself? Would you like me to be there?"

"I'm not afraid of Georgina and I don't need you to protect me."

He handed her his card and said, "My office is on the other side of the city, but I'll get working on this immediately. It may take a few weeks to push them out of your life, but I swear I'll accomplish it. I'll keep you posted."

"Is the town house mine?" Theo asked.

"Yes, everything is yours—and Charlotte's."

"I want them out. Can we evict them?"

"Certainly."

"Good. Please make that your top priority."

"I will." She whipped away and marched out and he called to her. "You're in a bad condition, Miss Cronenworth. May I escort you?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Coswell. In fact, I'm better than fine. Lately, I had been a tad low, but you've infused me with an invigorating energy that will carry me very far."

Her temper was boiling, her fury barely contained. She walked out and down the block to where her rented cab was parked, her driver loafing and waiting for her to return.

"Take me home," she said to him. "Take me home as fast as you can."