'To Tavora House. Are you going to woo her now that Bathurst is dead?' Amelia teased, knowing of her brother's tendre for their cousin.
'She's not worth my time now that she's used goods,' he said in an affected manner, Isabella's relationship with Bathurst the stuff of gossip. 'But I may pay a visit on her-and give her the benefit of my advice.'
'Used goods, indeed,' Abigail sniffed. 'She was out and out Bathurst's whore.'
'But Lady Jersey slept with the Prince of Wales for years and now Lady Hertford does and the Duke of Devonshire has a mistress living in his house along with his wife and any number of nobles do-'
'For heaven's sake,' Abigail exclaimed, directing a blistering glance at her younger daughter. 'How in the world would you know such scandal?'
'From Maude, of course. You know how informed she is, Mama, and that's the reason you keep her. And if I'm going to be married soon, I should understand how the world goes along.'
'Herbert! I would wish you to inform our daughters that immorality is wrong regardless of rank.'
It took a moment for Herbert Leslie to gather the proper severe expression when he knew very well how the beau monde conducted itself. Fornication and flirtation had long been the amusements of the leisured class. 'Listen to your mama, girls. She knows best.'
'A little more sincerity, if you please, Herbert.'
'Cut bait, Abigail,' he brusquely retorted. 'As if you don't know how the ton play at life and the world be damned.'
The girls snickered and Harold smiled, but none dared confront their mother openly. She managed the household with an iron fist, and even Herbert rarely interfered in his wife's domain.
'We'll have no more talk of disreputable people at this table.' Abigail scanned the faces of her family with a penetrating gaze. 'Now then,' she said in her most proper tone, 'what if we all attended Mrs. Bambridge's tea tomorrow-as a family.'
'I have to work, as you well know, Abigail.'
'And I'm bound for the races, Mama.'
Abigail frowned at her husband and son. 'It wouldn't hurt you to show yourselves at some of the girls' parties.'
'Not old lady Bambridge's tea though, Mama. There's no one of consequence there.'
'Mrs. Bambridge has hired an opera singer. And she has hopes that Baroness Tellmache may appear, for she likes Madame Dolcini's voice above all things.'
'Mama, don't bother. Harold would lief walk to his races before he'd listen to an opera singer. And Lucinda and Emilie will be there, which is quite enough for us to have fun.'
'Luanda's maid knows the dresser for Lady Jersey, so she always has the most divine gossip about the royal family,' Amelia added, grinning at her sister.
'There you go, Abby, the girls will have a great good time without us men to bother with. And as a little compensation for my busy schedule at the bank, why don't you girls go shopping for new gowns and bonnets.'
'Oh, Papa!' his daughters both squealed, indifferent to their father's company but charmed by his purse.
'You're the greatest papa in the world!' Amelia cried. 'I know exactly what I want. Remember, Mama, that darling primrose gown that you wouldn't let me buy because it was too dear. Is that all right now, Papa?' she cajoled.
'Of course, poppet.' For all Herbert's grasp on reality, he had hopes that his girls would make good matches- maybe even titled gentlemen if ones could be found who were necessitous enough. 'Abby, you see that our daughters look up to snuff, now.' He winked. 'And I'll see that the bills are paid.'
The rest of the dinner conversation was taken over by a discussion of various gowns and milliners, while the men enjoyed their roasts and wine without further interruptions. And once the women had gone from the table and father and son were left to their port, Herbert said, 'I'd like a word with you about your cousin.'
'I thought I might call on her after the races. Tavora House is only a few miles from Newmarket.'
'I've sent some men to follow her there. With Lonsdale out of the picture, and very luckily, since Bathurst is near dead, I thought you might like to consider marrying Isabella.'
'Mother won't allow it. Her reputation after Bathurst-' He shrugged at the impossibility.
'Just leave your mother to me. We're talking eighty thousand a year, my boy. I'll see that she understands one way or another. Isabella could be kept in the country until the season is over, I was thinking. No one need know you're married.'
'I
'Don't put on airs with me, son. I know how you feel about Isabella. And now with the threat of Bathurst over, we can return to our original plans. The money should be kept in the family anyway, by Jove,' he gruffly noted. 'And if George hadn't had his head turned by your cousin's sweet ways, he would have done the right thing. Call on her, by all means, when you go to Newmarket.'
'Is her bodyguard still in place?'
Herbert lifted his brows. 'There's two of 'em now. But you needn't make more than a social call. See how she seems. Whether she's friendlier. Reconnoiter, as it were.'
'Until such a time as we find a means to carry her off?'
His father nodded. 'Exactly.'
'If Bathurst kept her,' Harold slyly murmured, 'she's bound to be well trained.'
'And capable of giving you a go for it in bed, eh, my boy?' his father replied with a soft chuckle. 'Nothing wrong with that.'
'A man wouldn't dare give her much freedom-if she's such a hot little piece.'
'No need to give her freedom, son. She'll be your wife. You can keep her locked away in the country or in the mews behind the house if you like. And if I didn't trust your mama's sterling reputation, I'd do the same.' It was bluster, of course. Abigail would have his hide if he dared cross her. Or her brothers would, and they were more powerful and influential bankers than he. 'Fortunately, Isabella is without family to come to her aid,' Herbert said in a musing tone. 'We can be grateful for that.'
'Lonsdale proved very convenient, didn't he-killing Bathurst like he did.'
'And he had the decency to die as well,' Herbert observed, lifting his glass to his son with a smile. 'To the noble art of dueling.'
Harold raised his glass. 'May they both rest in peace.'
'Not likely with Lonsdale-or Bathurst, for that matter. Hell's likely waiting. Now, just a word to the wise on the issue of honor. Such sublime principles may be well and good for the aristocracy, but don't let me ever hear of you involved in anything so dangerous. We can hire men to fight our battles, as anyone with half a brain does.'
'Don't worry, Papa. I know better than to risk my life.'
'You're a sensible young man.' He smiled. 'As my son should be. I never brought you up to foolishly spill your blood on the dueling field.'
'I prefer the pleasures of life, Papa. Like this very good port.' He held the rich ruby liquor up to the light.
'Shipped in from the Douro despite that damnable Peninsular War that's bleeding England dry. If they'd let the bankers run this country, we wouldn't be fighting to keep some damned king on his throne. Making money for England and ourselves. That's what counts.'
'And I'll do my best to bring Uncle George's money back into the family,' Harold said with a grin.
'Hear, hear.' Herbert saluted his son, and lifting his glass to his mouth, drained it in one gulp.
Chapter Nineteen
FOR THE FIRST FEW DAYS at Dermott's manor house on the island, his survival remained questionable. Dr. McTavert kept the earl heavily sedated to alleviate as much of his suffering as possible, but despite the powerful narcotics, Dermott was still in agony. He tossed and turned, trying to escape the pain, his agitated movements causing his wounds to break open, the renewed bleeding further weakening him. The doctor tried having him tied down, but the restraints only worsened his restlessness, so the small staff kept at the house were pressed into service, everyone taking turns holding the earl as still as possible.
