Page 57 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
“Mr. Rothbury, it was kind of you to agree to see us,” Caroline replied as she and Amelia sank into the two chairs he indicated in his study, Amelia taking the most comfortable.
Of course, a married man would have ushered them into the drawing room, but Mr. Rothbury was a bachelor and Carolinesuspected his study was the most respectable—and guest-ready—room available at such short notice.
Most people she knew would not have accepted such an impromptu visit at such an unfashionable hour. Caroline knew very little of Mr. Rothbury, personally, other than the brief encounters in ballrooms. No doubt he assumed that Amelia—respectable and married Lady Weston—was the one who had matters to discuss with him and that Caroline had merely tagged along.
“And no doubt you are curious as to the reasons we are here, when our acquaintance is so very limited,” Amelia spoke smoothly. She was, of course, the elder, and a married woman. Caroline was merely a debutante, not able to speak for herself if convention were to be followed.
In an unusually subdued tone that quite betrayed her nerves, Caroline whispered, “Yes, you are very kind to receive us like this, Mr. Rothbury.”
She knew decorum required that Amelia lead the conversation, but it was so very hard to keep her agitation at bay and not blurt out everything that that led to this visit.
“And how can I help you today?” Rothbury smiled, though a flicker of concern crossed his features. “Since you have intimated this is not just a social visit.”
“No, I am here to speak to you about the Playford family and your father’s dealings with Miss Playford’s father,” said Amelia, coming straight to the point. “I recently learned your father was Mr. Playford’s financial advisor many years ago, and I have some questions.”
Mr. Playford sent them an enquiring look. “It is true that my father served Mr. Playford a great many years ago but I went to sea when I was very young, so I am afraid I have little knowledge of the years of which you speak.”
Amelia flicked a glance at Caroline. Clearly, she was unsure how to proceed.
“Did you ever meet Mr. Playford and his wife? Venetia’s parents? Venetia herself, in fact?” Caroline asked, boldly using her friend’s Christian name to see if it elicited any reaction.
To her astonishment she saw the color burn his cheek before he looked away briefly, resuming his quiet contemplation of the question before he went on, “I did meet Mr. Playford and his wife on a number of occasions before I went to sea, yes.”
“What do you remember of Miss Playford, then?” Caroline asked. Yes, she was onto something, she was sure of it. “She’d have been a child, wouldn’t she?”
“Yes, a child of eight. Very sweet disposition.” Mr. Rothbury smiled. “Very talkative, I remember. She told me many tales of her dolls’ imaginary adventures, though, as a boy of fourteen, I was perhaps not as attentive as she would have liked.” He cleared his throat. “Clearly, she does not recognize me from those days, and why would she? Her parents died just after I went to sea, and I did not see her again until this season.”
“But you remembered her.” Caroline couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice, eliciting curious expressions from the other two.
“Of course.”
“And has she changed?”
Mr. Rothbury blinked at the oddness of her question. “She is not as… lively as I remember. But she has grown into the beauty I would have expected. Like her mother.” He rose. “In fact, I have a likeness of the late Mrs. Playford amongst my late father’s papers.”
Caroline twisted her head, expecting to see him rifle through files of paperwork. Instead, the likeness was at hand upon his desk.
It was Amelia who said, mildly, “Perhaps you might make a gift of it to Miss Playford if it has no value to you?”
He reddened again as he resumed his seat. “Oh, it has value. But I had, in fact, planned to do as you suggest though… was unsure of when it might be appropriate to approach her.”
“Why? Because she is to be married?” cried Caroline. “Why should that prevent you? She would want to receive it fromyou.”
Again, Caroline realized her passions were somewhat inexplicable to Mr. Rothbury, and she put her hand to her mouth as she murmured an apology for her outburst, finally throwing caution to the wind and saying, “I’m sure she’d be very appreciative since her aunt kept all mementos of her parents from her on the grounds that Venetia has been nothing but a drain on her finances since she first took her in.”
“I beg your pardon?”
This last had the effect of making Mr. Rothbury lean forward and Caroline, thinking he was grieved to learn of Venetia’s ill treatment, went on, “Yes! Her aunt wants to coerce her into breaking her engagement to Henry Ashworth in favor of Lord Windermere for reasons that cannot be fathomed and which she explains only as that Lord Windermere is prepared to accept her without a dowry.”
“Please, Caroline, I think that was a little too much information,” Amelia admonished in an undertone. “Mr. Rothbury will not appreciate your wild talk.”
“But it is not true.”
Ignoring Caroline, Mr. Rothbury, clearly too agitated to remain seated, rose and again went to his papers, shaking his head as he said, “Miss Playford was well provided for when her parents died.”
It was as if a great wall of snow had suddenly doused Caroline. For a moment, she was too shocked to speak.
Then, both Caroline and Amelia burst out in unison, “What?”
