Author: Anne Stuart

For a moment Elinor closed her eyes as the enormity of their situation washed over her. And then she pulled herself together. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll see to everything. I have a plan.”

“You do?” Lydia said hopefully.

“I do,” she said, hoping to God that Lydia wasn’t going to ask for details. She’d come up with something soon enough, even though right now her mind was a total blank. “Have you seen the doctor today?”

“Etienne keeps asking for me,” she said, and there was no missing the reluctance in her voice. “I’ve pretended to be asleep.”

The panic she’d squashed down began to rumble in the pit of her stomach. She’d forgotten Lydia’s look of dislike. “You did?” she said carefully. “I thought you liked Etienne.”

Lydia managed a weak smile. “Oh, I do. I like him very much. But I know what he wants, and I cannot give him the answer he’s looking for. Not yet.”

“What does he want, sweetheart?” she asked gently, trying to keep the despair from her voice. If Lydia hated the thought of Etienne then that was the end of it.

“To marry me,” Lydia said, making it sound like a death sentence.

All the language of the stable came roaring back to Elinor’s head, but she kept her face passive. “You don’t wish to marry Etienne? I thought it would be a good match. He’s handsome, dependable, he adores you.”

“Yes, he’s all those things,” she said sadly. “The problem is, I’m not in love with him.”

“Love is…” Elinor trailed off, words failing her. She swallowed, then continued. “Love is highly over-rated, my sweet.”

Lydia turned to look at her, her eyes still swimming with tears. “Do you want me to marry him, Nell? Because I will, of course, if you think it’s the best thing to do. I know I’ve been selfish, daydreaming. If you want me to marry him then I certainly will. You’re right, he’s all that’s kind and proper, and I should make a very good doctor’s wife.” She even managed a sunny smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

For a moment Elinor didn’t move. It was the wise thing to do. Hadn’t she learned in the last, increasingly hideous few years that you had to take the lifeline when offered? Here was safety dangling in front of them. She had little doubt Etienne would welcome her into their household as well, simply because she could be useful. They would never have to worry about where the next meal came from, which creditors to duck, whether they’d freeze to death in the night.

She looked down into dear Lydia’s face, at the determinedly cheerful expression. “Except that he’s so damn stuffy,” she said.

Lydia exploded with laughter. “Your language, Nell!”

“I haven’t got Nanny Maude to keep me in line anymore. You know I spent too much time in the stable when I was young. Don’t marry Etienne, Lydia. Tell him no, in the most gentle of ways.”

Lydia looked at her. “Are you certain? What else shall we do? I hadn’t thought it through clearly. We seem to be out of resources and possibilities.”

“You forget, there’s Cousin Marcus. I have yet to find out what our small bequest is, but with luck it’s enough to keep the two of us and Jacobs. If not, our cousin might be disposed to be charitable.”

“Dearest,” Lydia said, “you know as well as I do that the bequest is for you, that the cousin is yours.”

“Dearest,” Elinor responded fondly, “you know as well as I do that everything I have is yours.”

“I could still marry Etienne. I think he’d have me.”

“Have you?” Elinor scoffed. “The man would be lucky to kiss the hem of your garment. In truth, I don’t want you to marry Etienne. His lectures would drive me mad. I expect we can rely on Cousin Marcus. Otherwise…” She failed to think of any way to complete the sentence.

“Otherwise we’ll become adventuresses!” Lydia said. “Why not? We have no reputations to lose. We’ll travel Europe and be very mysterious and very gay, and men will adore us and women will want to be like us. We’ll dress in the finest clothes and be very witty. I think we should go to Venice first.”

Elinor blinked. “And how are we to support this new life?”

“We’ll have to find protectors, of course,” Lydia said brightly. “Wealthy men in need of a mistress. We’ll pick and choose, of course. Only the most handsome and most amiable of men should be allowed anywhere near our bedrooms. They’ll give us fabulous jewels, which we can sell off when times are difficult. Don’t you think it would be glorious?”

“Glorious,” Elinor echoed. “And totally impractical. I’d have you married to Etienne before you became a courtesan, no matter how stuffy he is.”

Some of the wicked light left Lydia’s eyes. “You’re right, of course. And a few months of passion is no fit trade for a lifetime of safety and sobriety.”

She could blame the shocks of the last few days and her own exhaustion for not having put things together before. Lydia’s fanciful idea hadn’t been plucked from thin air. It took Elinor but a moment.

“You’re in love with Mr. Reading.”

Most people would have believed Lydia’s light, silvery laugh. Elinor was not most people. “How absurd, Nell! I barely know the man, and while there is no denying he’s very handsome he’s far from agreeable and not very flattering, and he’s hardly the type of husband one could look for.”

“Hardly,” Elinor echoed, remembering him from her night at the château. “He would, however, make a fitting partner for an adventuress. For a month or so.”

Lydia’s smile still didn’t read truthful. “Don’t worry, Nell. You said you had another plan as well as applying to your cousin. What is it?”

Her stomach dropped, but she managed a cheery smile. “Let us see if I can get in touch with Lord Tolliver first,” she said. “He was most amiable when I met with him, and I would think he would be the answer. If I could convince him to give us a small cottage on one of the estates, perhaps a tiny stipend that we could augment with pianoforte lessons. And you’d be bound to marry, and there’d be no financial incentive to force you into making the wrong choice.”

“And he said he’d offer you this cottage?” Lydia asked, looking skeptical.

“We didn’t get that far…Mama—” oddly enough her voice seemed to have developed a catch “—had one of her fits, and he left. But I have no doubt he’ll hear of our misfortunes and be more than happy to provide assistance. He would have no reason not to help us, and he would dislike the disapproval of society if he abandoned us.”

“If you say so,” Lydia said, looking unconvinced. “What shall we do in the meantime?”

“In the meantime I shall speak to my Lord Rohan about sending a message to my cousin. I despise having to rely on Rohan’s charity, but I cannot decide which would be worse, sleeping in his house or taking money to sleep elsewhere.”

Lydia looked around her. “If this is hell, it’s quite cozy,” she said. “Where are you sleeping? I asked for you, but no one would give me a clear answer.”

“This house is massive—I’m on another floor and in another wing. I’m certain they’ll have no objection to my joining you here.” She was certain of no such thing. She was certain of nothing at the moment, and the lack of control was making her mad.

She prepared to rise, dreading the pain. “I’ll go speak to our host. Perhaps he’s already made arrangements—he could hardly want two properly brought-up young females in his household when he’s about to commence on a…” She let her voice trail off.

“About to commence what?”

“Something neither of us need to know about.”

“You know, for the King of Hell he’s quite charming.”

“No,” she said flatly.

“No, what? I’ve told you, he has absolutely no interest in me. I’m not naive. I know when someone has lustful thoughts about me. Lord Rohan treats me like his sister.”

Now it was ice forming in the pit of her stomach, freezing away the panic. “How many times have you seen him?”

“Just twice, dearest. Once at the house, and then this morning. He told me about Nanny and he was very kind.”

“Ha,” Elinor said. “The King of Hell doesn’t know what kindness means. He was doubtless being ironic.”

“Perhaps he was. You certainly seem to know him better. All I know is he calmed me down, expressed his sympathy and made certain I was well taken care of.”

“He’s good at that,” Elinor grumbled.

Lydia said nothing, looking at her sister for a long moment. “You might consider looking at the truth,” she said.

“What truth?” Elinor said, alarmed.

“You are far from uninterested in the man. If I didn’t know you so well I would say you’ve fallen in love with the King of Hell. But that’s impossible. You’re much too levelheaded, when such a thing would lead to disaster.” She peered more closely at her sister. “Aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Elinor said truthfully. “The very notion horrifies me. He’s a man who likes to play games, and on occasion his malicious interest alights on me. Particularly since I do my best not to let him win. But trust me, there is nothing I would like better than to get as far away from him as I possibly could.”

“Indeed,” Lydia said, watching her. And then she shook her head. “I believe you. He’s a fascinating man, but you’re not interested in fascinating men, are you? You want someone strong and stable. I’ll give you Etienne,” she offered.

Elinor laughed. “In fact, he was sent for me in the first place. Rohan thought I should be married. But Etienne took one look at you and forgot Rohan’s games.”