Page 3 of Betting on a Baron
“Bah. If us shopkeepers don’t look out for each other, we’d all be working for free.” Miss Lennox walked over to the curtain and peeked behind it. The dressmaker shook her head and snapped the curtain closed behind her. Who was on the other side of the curtain?
Daphne looked Miss Lennox square in the eye. “Is the amount Harlowe owes really that substantial?”
“Based on me calculations, his lordship is in for a monkey.”
“Five hundred pounds!” Her knees felt weak at the news.
Miss Lennox gave her a supporting hand and led her over to a chair nearby.
Daphne mumbled to herself. “How could this be? Ambrose rarely visits gaming hells and more often than not invests in the same schemes as Papa.” Daphne looked up and wrung her hands in her lap. “Please don’t tell me Papa is in a similar situation.”
“Egad!” Miss Lennox looked over her shoulder and then back at Daphne. Worry lines formed on her forehead.
“Is he? Is my papa indebted to you?”
Miss Lennox shook her head. “Oh good lord, no. Yer father settles your account monthly and adds a generous sum at the end of each season. Tis I who is indebted to yer family.”
Hmm. Unless Harlowe invested in a scheme her papa hadn't, how could the man have emptied the Harlowe coffers? Every summer Ambrose would come to visit her papa to discuss the merits or pitfalls of a new investment. His visits were usually the highlight of her rather dull and lonely days for two reasons: Alice always accompanied him; and she didn’t have to fight with a gaggle of ladies to gain Ambrose’s undivided attention. Without the distractions and responsibilities that came along with the Season, Ambrose was attentive and relaxed. It was inevitable that her love for him was reignited after a long Season of being ignored.
A pat on Daphne’s shoulder from Miss Lennox broke her train of thought. “Like I said, me lady, Harlowe needs to find a wife and right quick. Ye have a large dowry, do ye not?”
“Ambrose would never marry me.” It was a fact that Daphne had come to accept over the past year.
“Why not? I reckon the two of you would make a lovely couple.”
Daphne had delusionally thought so too, for many years. Unable to remain seated, Daphne stood and began to pace the length of the fitting area. “Lord Harlowe rarely acknowledges me and when he does, it's only when I’m in the company of his sister.”
Miss Lennox matched her step for step and asked, “Do ye fancy his lordship?”
“What?” Daphne stopped and she faced Miss Lennox. “Me…fancy Lord Harlowe? Of course not.”
“Then why are ye blushing?”
Her cheeks burned whenever she attempted to lie and today was no different. Hoping the question was a rhetorical one, Daphne shrugged.
Miss Lennox eyed Daphne and then proposed, “If ye get Harlowe to agree to court ye, I’ll pretend his accounts are in good standing.”
She mulled over the idea and then replied, “You do realize courtships do not always end in marriage.”
“If ye really want to be of help to yer best friend, ye best convince Harlowe to marry you. Can ye imagine Miss Alice happy in last season’s gowns?”
Miss Lennox’s words hit Daphne right in the center of her chest. Did the seamstress know of Daphne’s secret desire to be of use in some way, or had it been happenstance that the woman selected the string of words that would motivate Daphne the most?
“Think upon me offer and send word by tomorrow eve. I’ll need to know if I shall be delivering Miss Alice her new gown or working on repurposing it for another.” Miss Lennox walked out of the fitting area. “Ladies, my apologies for the delay. Who's next?”
Daphne followed the woman out front and wasn’t in the least bit surprised that the patrons, her peers, were still abuzz with the news of Harlowe’s hardship. The gossip burned her ears. She needed to leave.
Exiting out onto the street, both her maid and Charlie, one of the family Sumnerson footmen, approached.
Charlie waved his gloved hand to point a little way down the street. “The carriage is this way, my lady.”
“I wish to take a stroll and ponder over a matter.” Daphne turned to face her maid and asked, “The park or the streets?”
Her maid, Sue, glanced over her shoulder at Charlie who shrugged. “I believe at stroll in the park would be quieter and safer, my lady.”
Daphne marched in the direction Charlie had indicated and said, “Very well, we’ll take the carriage to Hyde Park then.”
When they reached the Sumnerson carriage, Charlie opened the door and without protest Daphne entered and sank into the forward-facing seat. She peeked out the window and caught Sue grinning broadly as her maid followed Charlie around to the back. She’d have to help Sue, for Charlie was oblivious to her maid’s sweet blushes and bright smiles when he was near. Men—utterly clueless unless you were falling into their arms.
