Page 15 of Thief of the Ton
“Did you never wonder what happened to cause me to lose everything?” Papa asked.
“Dickie, I hardly think—”
“It’s time she knew!” Papa cried. “Walton’s always hated me, Lavinia, because he wanted your mother for himself. But Lily lovedme, and Walton never forgave me. So he hatched a plot to ruin me. Poor, trusting fool that he was, I walked right into it.” Papa shook his head. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. When my heirlooms were auctioned off to pay my debts, Walton and his accomplices took possession of my most treasured items—gifts that your mother and I exchanged, tokens of our love. I don’t know how they did it, but they conspired to ensure that each item was sold for a fraction of its value. Two shillings each.” He bent forward and placed his head in his hands. “Two shillings! Was that all our love was worth?”
“Hush, Dickie—don’t distress yourself,” Lady Betty said.
“But—it’s like they each have a piece of Lily’s soul,” Papa whispered. “I can’t bear to think of them in their possession—to think of Walton’s grubby hands on the gift my Lily gave me as a token of her love.”
“I know, my darling, but you have what matters most—your daughter, and the knowledge that Lily loved you. Compared to those men, you’re the richest man in the world.”
“I cannot help how I feel,” Papa said. “I hate Walton with every fiber of my being. He deserves to be punished for his sins.”
“And he will be, Dickie. Trust Fate, and don’t let your hatred consume you—or he’ll have secured his victory.”
Lavinia’s heart ached at the despair in her father’s eyes. In a little under an hour, the man she’d seen on the stairs in a dapper suit, looking like the Papa she’d once known, had transformed into the defeated creature before her.
And it had been her fault.
She took his hand. “Papa, I’m sorry.”
“It’s notmyforgiveness you should beg for, daughter.”
“Dickie, no,” Lady Betty protested, but Lavinia offered her hand to the woman.
“Forgive me, Lady Betty,” she said. “Papa said we had a good friend—the only one not to turn their back on us. I’ve no right to be uncivil, ifyouare that friend.”
“Dear child!” Lady Betty cried. “You’re so like your sweet mama.”
“You knew Mama?”
“A little. Never had such a sweet woman walked upon the earth! My heart broke when she died, but I’m thankful that, at her end, she believed that we live in a good world. And, if you permit me, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you as your mama would have done.”
Papa drew out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. Then he turned his face away, as if ashamed of his outburst.
But it wasn’t Papa who should be ashamed. It was Earl Walton, and his friends—whoever they were.
“Shall I pour the tea, Papa?” Lavinia asked. “Lady Betty—would you like some cake?”
Lady Betty accepted the olive branch. “That would be delightful, my dear,” she said. “Just a small slice, and perhaps next time I visit—if you wish to invite me again—Ican bring a cake. Or a pound of marzipan? I hear it has medicinal purposes, as well as tasting delicious.”
She rattled on, extolling the virtues of marzipan, and a shop in Bath that she said simplymustbe visited, while Lavinia poured the tea and cut the cake. But though the conversation focused on frivolities, Lavinia understood it for what it was—an offer of friendship from someone who would never betray them.
Unlike Earl Walton.
As Lavinia sank her teeth into her slice of cake, she made a silent vow. One day, she would avenge Papa’s losses. She would retrieve the treasures he grieved for, and she would not rest until she had wreaked revenge on Earl Walton.
Chapter Five
Fourteen years later, Sussex, June 1814
When Lavinia enteredthe dining room, Papa was already at the breakfast table, with Mr. and Mrs. Bates tending to him.
“Morning, Miss Lavinia,” Mrs. Bates said. “Ye look like you’ve had no sleep.”
Lavinia exchanged a glance with Mr. Bates. “I took Samson for a ride before breakfast,” she said. “I fear I tired him out.”
“And yourself, I’ll warrant,” Mrs. Bates said, “though I don’t recall hearing you go out this morning.”
