Page 80 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
“Ah yes,” Thornton accepted the cup of tea Eugenia poured for him, their fingers brushing momentarily in the exchange. “A most fortunate young lady in more ways than one. It’s not every day one not only comes into a substantial inheritance, but is spared marriage to a villainous kidnapper who is now—I came to tell you specially—ensconced in the Marshals debtors’ prison.”
“And all thanks to Mr. Rothbury’s timely intervention,” Eugenia added, clapping her hands. “I confess, I did not take proper notice of that gentleman before. So unassuming, yet so decisive when the moment demanded action.”
Lady Pendleton sniffed. “I always thought him a sensible sort. Not given to the excessive displays one sees in younger men these days, but steady. Precisely the sort of man a young heiress might need to guide her through the pitfalls of her new station.”
Eugenia caught the gleam in Thornton’s eye and knew he, too, had detected Lady Pendleton’s shift. How quickly the good lady had adjusted her assessment now that Venetia’s circumstances had changed!
“I wonder,” said Eugenia, setting down her teacup, “if Mr. Rothbury will present himself as a suitor now that Miss Harrington’s circumstances have so dramatically altered.”
Thornton leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “That, my dear Eugenia, is the very question I came to discuss with you today. For I have it on good authority that Mr. Rothbury has withdrawn from London society entirely. One rumor has it that he plans to go to sea again. Another, that he intends to take up a post in Italy translating a nobleman’s library of Sir Walter Scott novels.”
“Withdrawn from society?” Lady Pendleton echoed. “But why would he do such a thing when every door would now be open to him as the hero of the hour?”
“I believe,” Thornton said slowly, his eyes never leaving Eugenia’s face, “that the gentleman fears his motives would be misconstrued should he express any interest in Miss Playford now. Having performed such a service for her, he is acutely aware that any attention might be perceived as fortune hunting.”
“How absurd!” Lady Pendleton exclaimed. “The man saved her from ruination. One would argue that it was at great personal risk, even given the black eye he sported for some time following that unseemly tussle with Mr. Barnaby. Surely no one would question his honor?”
“Society can be cruel,” Eugenia murmured, thinking of the many times she herself had been the subject of speculation. How many seasons had she endured whispers behind fans about why the wealthy Lady Townsend remained unwed? How many pointed comments had she weathered about her advancing years making her an object of pity rather than pursuit?
“And Miss Playford?” she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present. “How is she enjoying her newfound independence?”
“Like a bird unexpectedly freed from its cage,” Thornton replied. “She has taken up residence at Harrington Hall and,by all accounts, is reveling in her liberty. I hear she has even spoken of establishing a salon for intellectual discussion, much in the manner you once did, Eugenia. She is very changed from the vivacious debutante I remember from your famed Ghostly Gathering, Lady Pendleton.”
“Changed, indeed?” Eugenia couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. “How delightful to think of Harrington Hall filled with lively minds rather than dusty traditions.”
“Perhaps another bluestocking in the making,” Lady Pendleton observed, though her tone lacked its usual disapproval. “Still, a woman needs a husband, especially with such extensive properties to manage.”
“Does she?” Eugenia challenged gently. “I have managed quite well without one.”
“I dare say,” Lady Pendleton said, dubiously.
Thornton cleared his throat. “Which brings me to the matter of our wager, Lady Townsend.”
Ah, here it was at last. Eugenia straightened. “Yes, Lord Thornton. I hope you are prepared to honor our agreement. Miss Playford did not, after all, wed Lord Windermere.”
“Indeed, she did not,” Thornton agreed, his eyes twinkling with an expression Eugenia couldn’t quite decipher. “Though you cannot claim full victory, as she has not wed Mr. Henry Ashworth either.”
“A technicality,” Lady Pendleton interjected. “The young man clearly had eyes only for Miss Caroline Weston all along.”
“Precisely why I propose an amendment to our settlement,” Thornton continued. “The terms of our wager stated that if Miss Playford wed Lord Windermere, the Persephone painting would be mine. However, as neither of us correctly predicted the ultimate outcome, I suggest a compromise.”
Eugenia leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Compromise, my lord?”
Thornton reached into his coat and withdrew a folded document, placing it on the table between them. “This, my dear Eugenia, is my proposal.”
With slightly trembling fingers, Eugenia unfolded the paper. As she read, her eyes widened, and she looked up at Thornton in astonishment. “You cannot be serious.”
“I assure you, I am entirely serious,” he replied, his expression now earnest. “I have secured passage for two on theNeptune’s Folly, departing for Venice next month. The journey includes stops at several Mediterranean ports, with ample opportunity to explore ancient ruins and historical sites.”
“Venice!” Eugenia breathed, her heart quickening at the thought. “I have long wished to see the floating city.”
“I know,” Thornton said simply. “You spoke of it that day in the balloon.”
“What exactly are you proposing, Thornton?” Lady Pendleton asked.
“I propose that instead of enjoying Eugenia’s Persephone on my wall, that I enjoy Eugenia’s company on this voyage. The painting can remain where it has always been—where it can be appreciated by both of us… on my visits here.”
Eugenia felt heat rise to her cheeks at the curious tone of his voice.
