Page 55 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
Venetia drew a shuddering breath. “I cannot marry Henry,” she finally said, her voice barely audible.
Caroline felt her heart skip—a treacherous flicker of hope immediately smothered by concern. “What do you mean? The wedding is little more than a week away.”
“I must call it off. Tomorrow.” A tear slipped down Venetia’s cheek. “I have no choice.”
“Who has been threatening you?” Caroline didn’t try to keep the anger from her voice.
“My aunt.” Venetia finally met Caroline’s gaze. “I found the letters from my father, Caroline. Yes! They exist and they were bad enough. And then Aunt Pike showed me more.”
“Love letters?”
Venetia nodded miserably. “Theywereto be married, it seems. Until my mother… until she…” She faltered, then continued in a rush, “My mother fled to the Continent with child—with me. My father followed out of duty, but they did not marry until after my birth.”
Caroline’s mind raced to comprehend the implications. “You mean—”
“I am illegitimate,” Venetia whispered, the words seeming to physically pain her. “My parents returned from abroad, pretending they had married before my birth. But it was a lie.”
Caroline squeezed Venetia’s hand, barely able to grasp the terrible enormity of such a discovery.
“My aunt has threatened to tell everyone the sordid truth if I do not break my engagement to Henry tomorrow. She says no respectable family would want such a connection.” Venetia’s voice hardened with certainty. “Windermere said the same on the dance floor last night. And, of course, I know that to be true.”
“Yet Windermere is willing to marry you? Despite… such a revelation?” Caroline asked.
“He says that although he knows the truth, he is willing to marry me despite it.” Venetia gave a bitter laugh. “How magnanimous of him.”
Caroline toyed with her bonnet ribbons, mind whirling with conflicting emotions. Part of her—a part she despised—felt that quiver of hope at the thought of Venetia breaking her engagement. But she had risked too much to protect Venetia from Windermere.
“There must be some way to verify these claims,” she said. “Did your aunt show you proof beyond the letters?”
“What more proof do I need? The letters are in my father’s hand.”
“Love letters, yes, but what of the rest? Where is the proof that your parents were not married before your birth?”
Venetia looked up, a flicker of something—not quite hope—in her eyes. “I… I don’t know. She has only shown me the letters between her and my father.”
“Then we cannot be certain of anything else she claims,” Caroline declared firmly. “Your aunt has always wanted you to marry Windermere. This could be an elaborate deception.”
“But why would she fabricate such a thing?” Venetia gulped. “And how do I tell Henry? Of course, he won’t want to marry me when he knows the truth.”
“Butisit the truth?” Caroline shrugged, then shook her head. “Do not, I implore you, break off your betrothal to Henry just because your aunt has been feeding you these… unfounded stories.”
“The rumors are damning enough. We know how mud sticks,” Venetia went on despairingly. “I don’t know how much longer I can resist my aunt and Lord Windermere.”
“Please, Venetia, stay strong a little longer,” Caroline implored her as her friend began to cry. And then, even though it wasn’t quite true, she added bolsteringly, “Henry and I think we have nearly discovered the reason Windermere wishes to marry a penniless girl.” Oh, dear Lord, she did hope they had. “And then everything will be revealed.”
“You and Henry?” Venetia frowned, then her face lit up. “I cannot believe what wonderful friends you both have been to me. Why, if you truly can discover Windermere’s motivation, I think I shall just have to marry Henry out of gratitude… even though I don’t love him.”
Caroline shifted awkwardly. “Just as long as you don’t marry Windermere. Believe me, Venetia, there is some mysterious reason your aunt and Windermere are working together.” She rose, giving Venetia’s hand one last squeeze. “And I believe we are nearly at the bottom of it.”
*
Caroline left thepark feeling more despondent than when she’d arrived. What had she been hoping for? Unless she discovered information that remained aggravatingly elusive, her dearest friend really was on course to marry the man Caroline loved.
Or would be forced to marry Windermere?
She was so deeply engrossed in these thoughts as she trudged the pavements with her maid beside her that she would have missed Henry entirely had he not called out from across the street, “My dear Miss Weston! What a coincidence!”
“Henry!” she called out, not hiding her pleasure. As they were passing a small park, Caroline indicated they step inside the open gates.
