“I see. Speaking of Rand…wasn’t Rand the one who came to Violet with the plan to secretly save Ford’s estate? It seems to me he’s not averse to a little manipulation for a good cause. Are you telling me Rand would leave you if you meddled in his business?”
“Well, no. I am certain we would work it out. But you’re not married yet. What if Kit is so angry he calls off the wedding? Then you’ll have lost all your money, and—”
“Never mind.” There was no reasoning with either of them. Rose reached back into the carriage and hefted the bag of coins with a little grunt. Fuming, she stomped to the pawnshop’s door and knocked.
And knocked. And knocked.
She had just about decided the Whittinghams weren’t home when Thomas finally cracked open the door, his face illuminated by a single candle.
“We’re closed,” he said, then raised the candle higher. “Oh. Lady Rose.” With his free hand, he clutched the top of his half-open shirt.
She shifted the heavy bag in her arms. “I have something for Ellen. From Kit.”
He eyed the bag curiously. “Well, come in, then, will you?”
She followed him through the dark shop and up the stairs, noting his disheveled hair and wondering if she’d roused him from his bed. It was early yet, but he and Ellen were newly wedded. If Rose had her way, she’d be going to bed early every night with Kit. She could hardly wait to finish this and surprise him at his house.
“In here,” Thomas said at the top of the stairs, opening a door to a small room crammed full of furniture and decorative pieces.
“Rose!” Ellen jumped up from a chair, dressed in a pale pink wrapper. The firelight behind her left no doubt that she wore nothing underneath.
So Rose had guessed right. She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused. “I’ve brought something for you. From Kit.” She walked closer and handed Ellen the bag.
Not expecting its weight, Ellen squealed as it slipped through her hands and fell to the floor with a thud, flopping onto its side. The top opened a little, and a coin rolled out and across the plain wooden boards, finally landing with a little clink. For a moment, it just sat there, glinting gold in the firelight.
Then Ellen rushed to scoop it up. She folded her fingers around it and looked to Rose, a question in her eyes.
“Your dowry,” Rose told her. “The first thousand pounds of it. The rest is forthcoming. It’s waiting in London whenever you decide to claim it.” She handed Ellen the goldsmith’s promissory note for nine thousand pounds. “I couldn’t carry more.”
That last sentence, at least, was the truth. And if the rest of what she’d said was less than honest, it was meant well, for both Kit’s and Ellen’s good.
Rose sent up a little prayer that Kit would see it that way.
Ellen stared at the paper with the goldsmith’s name. Rose hoped she wasn’t going to fuss over the missing thousand pounds—ten thousand, after all, was a vast sum of money.
Ellen still hadn’t said a word. “Kit loves you,” Rose added simply.
“I know.” Tears flooded Ellen’s eyes. She opened her clenched fist and stared down at the coin. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Save your words for Kit. Just tell me you’ll come to our wedding.”
“Of course I will.”
Rose opened her arms, and Ellen stepped into her embrace.
“Kit needs you,” Rose murmured by her ear. “You’re his only family.”
Ellen hugged her tighter. “You’ll be his family soon.”
“It’s not the same. You’re with Thomas now, but Kit shares your blood.” Rose and her sisters bickered all the time, but even angry as she was with them now, she knew they only wanted the best for her. And they would always be there if she needed them. Always. “You need Kit, too. Sisters and brothers…it’s a bond that should never be broken.”
“I was going to make her go to your wedding, anyway,” Thomas put in.
“He was going to try to make me go,” Ellen clarified with a strained laugh. She took a deep breath and stepped back. “It was turning into our first fight.”
Rose eyed her scant apparel. “Not too serious, apparently.”
“Not yet.” This time the laugh was real, and a twinkle lit Ellen’s eyes. “We’ve been enjoying your sonnets.”
“Ellen!” Thomas protested, turning ten shades of red.
“They’re not mine,” Rose said dryly. “You’re welcome to them.”
She noticed both their gazes stray to the bag of coins and figured they were too polite to dump them all right there and wallow in their new fortune—but also that they were dying to do so.
“I’ll leave you, then,” she said. “To the sonnets and the gold.”
Thomas followed her back down the stairs. “Thank you,” he said at the door.
“Thank Kit.”
“We will. But I thank you, too. I’m aware that what Kit gives us comes out of your pocket as well.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “Kit and I have plenty,” she assured him. “It’s the love that counts anyway, isn’t it?”
He nodded as he locked the door behind her.
It had gone perfectly. She smiled to herself as a footman ushered her into the carriage.
“We’re sorry,” Violet and Lily said together before she could even sit down.
“Sorry?”
“We talked while you were gone. And you’re right,” Violet admitted. “We both gave up our inheritances for our men. And it was a good bargain.”
“The best,” Lily agreed.
Rose was stunned by their about-face. “It wasn’t exactly the same.”
“True.” Violet started a little as the carriage lurched and began the short drive down the hill to Kit’s house. “We both did it to win our men, and you already have Kit.”
Rose hoped she still would after she told him of this night’s work.
“We’ve decided,” Lily said, “that what you just did was more romantic. And noble.”
“Noble?” No one had ever described Rose Ashcroft as noble. “Noble?”
“We traded money for selfish reasons—for what we ourselves wanted. You sacrificed not for
