Page 77 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
A ripple of scandalized whispers went through the crowd. “Yes, breach of promise,” Mrs. Pike went on triumphantly. “Richard Playford was to marrymebefore my younger sister Cassandra enticed him. Yes, she brought the family name into disrepute and was forced to run away to save her shameful condition being made public. Is it any wonder I have felt nothing but pain and resentment at having to bring up her child?” She indicated Venetia, who looked as if she were about to faint as she gripped the basket, which was suspended a foot from the ground.
The crowd shifted uneasily, murmurs of uncertainty passing among them. Some nodded in sympathy with Mrs. Pike’s tale, their expressions hardening as they glanced accusingly at Rothbury. Others exchanged skeptical glances, eyes narrowing as they perhaps recalled past instances of Mrs. Pike’s less-than-honest dealings. The Dowager Duchess of Richmond pressed her lips together in a thin line of suspicion, while young Lord Darcy whispered something to his companion that made the latter’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
“No, Mrs. Pike, you were never formally engaged to Miss Playford’s father. While I understand that certain lettersbetween the two of you have been read by Miss Playford which certainly attest to the fact that you were once sweethearts, the correspondence I discovered amongst my father’s papers indicate that the relationship was severed by Richard Playford after you were discovered stealing money from his desk. You then attempted to blackmail him with falsehoods about his family’s business dealings.”
“Lies, lies, lies!” cried Mrs. Pike, but her demeanor lacked the conviction of someone truly blameless, Caroline saw with a thrill as Henry gripped her hand tighter.
And as the attention of everyone was so firmly upon the drama being played out before them, Caroline boldly raised her hand to cup his cheek. The look he slanted down at her was filled with such love she thought she would melt in a puddle on the spot.
“Caroline,” he whispered, putting his cheek to hers. “This is your doing, you realize.” His breath was warm and sweet. His words of admiration, even sweeter. “You are the real heroine this evening.”
And suddenly Caroline felt that the future she had dreamed of really might come to be.
But the combat was not over. Lord Windermere stood his ground, his hand resting in a savage and proprietorial manner upon Venetia’s shoulder.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Pike was still shrieking her defense to the crowd.
Lies, which Mr. Rothbury countered at every turn.
“Everything I claim can be substantiated.” He tapped the leather satchel on the pommel in front of him. “You are the one who has been telling lies, Mrs. Pike. Yes, telling the world that Venetia Playford was penniless, that she had no dowry, that you cared for her out of charity, out of the goodness of your heart. But there was no goodness in your heart. In fact, thatwas the very reason Richard Playford switched his allegiance to your younger sister, to Cassandra Pike, who, I hasten to assure everyone, married him on the Continent well before the birth of their only child whom you see before you.” He indicated Venetia with a sweep of his hand. Silent and in obvious shock, she stood trembling in the basket, her face drained of color yet somehow luminous with hope, while Windermere’s features had hardened into a mask of fury, his eyes darting between Rothbury and the rope tethering the balloon as if weighing his chances of escape.
“All of this has no bearing on the fact that Miss Playford has consented to be my wife,” Lord Windermere now said, his voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. He took her hand and raised it to the sky, turning slightly to smile menacingly at the aeronaut. “I said, for God’s sake, untether this balloon.”
“Do not obey, sir, for I have not yet finished.”
Caroline had to admit that Mr. Rothbury was rather impressive when push came to shove. He had seemed such a mild-mannered man, unwilling to intervene when she and Amelia had first approached him, but clearly, he had worked tirelessly to secure the information that would prevent Venetia’s future being placed into unscrupulous hands.
He raised his voice but the crowd was already quiet.
He had promised them more, after all. As if what had played out was not exciting enough.
“I have news to impart, that as of this very evening—”
“News that pales into insignificance when compared with the joyful fact that tonight Miss Playford consented to be my wife!” Lord Windermere interrupted to a volley of gasps.
“Might I remind everyone that while Miss Playford may have been provided for in her earlier years,” Windermere went on, almost shouting to be heard, “I have nevertheless been prepared to wed a young lady who has no dowry.” He nodded at the quieting crowd. “Yes, her father’s funds were exhausted after herschooling, but I care nothing for that, as I feel only the greatest love for such an admirable paragon of virtue.”
“Not true!”
Caroline put her hand to her mouth in shock as her brother, Sir Frederick, materialized amongst the crowd. When had he arrived back from his country estates? He’d all but dismissed Caroline’s assertions as the ravings of a lunatic.
But now he was here and adding his weight to Mr. Rothbury’s claims.
“For reasons unknown, Windermere was determined to wed Miss Playford,” Frederick went on. “And he was, in fact, so determined that he used every means possible to tarnish the reputation of my old friend and neighbor, Mr. Henry Ashworth, in order to sever his betrothal to Miss Playford.”
“Good Lord,” Caroline heard Lady Townsend murmur to her friend Lady Pendleton, who nodded with undisguised satisfaction, her eyes gleaming with the vindication of long-held suspicions. “Even Sir Frederick says it true.”
“My good wife,” Sir Frederick continued, “who is unable to be here this evening for very happy reasons, went herself to quiz the mysterious so-called ‘princess’ who apparently was wronged by Mr. Ashworth. And who do you suppose this supposed princess was? Why, it was an actress James Barnaby paid to create the impression that Henry was a philanderer.” Frederick’s voice rang with righteous indignation. “And when further scurrilous methods were needed to discredit poor Henry, Mr. Barnaby forged bank records, which he then claimed were in Henry’s hand and at his request. All these efforts were to discredit Henry Ashworth so that Miss Playford would beforcedto call off her marriage to him so that Lord Windermere could then take control of the fortune he hoped she might one day inherit.”
Clenching his fist and shaking it at Mr. Rothbury, Lord Windermere’s eyes were dark as flint. “None of it is true!”
“It’s all true!” Charlotte’s voice cut through the murmurs, clear and resolute as she stepped forward, her face pale, her expression frightened but determined. “I overheard Barnaby speak about this plot to discredit Henry by paying an actress to pretend she was a maligned Hungarian princess whose broken heart she laid at my brother’s door. At the time, I believed everything, because Barnaby made life unpleasant if I did not.” She narrowed her eyes as she raked him with her disgust. “Then he threatened that my brother would face worse if I spoke a word. I was a coward, and for that, I can never fully atone, but I speak the truth now.” Her voice broke and Caroline shivered in Henry’s arms.
Finally, Charlotte had proven herself.
Barnaby’s defamation was complete, his face a picture of thwarted fury as guests drew back from him as if his shame were contagious.
“Why go to such trouble if Miss Playford were penniless and may not have inherited a penny?”
