“Lucy dear, I’ve been wondering about those five schools you attended.”
Lucy said cautiously, “What about them?”
“Why did you leave?” There was a short silence. Lucy shifted uncomfortably and avoided her eyes. Alice added gently, “It wasn’t because you misbehaved, was it?”
Lucy swallowed. “No.”
“Was it something to do with money?”
Lucy nodded.
“Every time?”
Again, Lucy gave a shamefaced nod. Alice felt a sharp spurt of anger at the father who had consistently put his growing daughter in such an invidious position. She hadn’t intended to press Lucy any further, but suddenly out it all came.
“He always picked the most exclusive schools he could get me into—he lied, you know, giving me grand imaginary relations. And he was always very openhanded with money at the start.” As he had been with Alice.
“But the money always ran out,” Lucy continued bitterly. “It was so embarrassing. The headmistress would call me down for little talks in her office—whatever address Papa had given her no longer worked. Her letters and bills were returned. It was so uncomfortable—none of them ever believed that I knew as much as they did about Papa’s whereabouts.”
“So what happened then?”
“They gave me jobs to do to pay my way: helping in the kitchen, looking after the younger pupils, cleaning—you name it.”
Alice cringed on her behalf. The snobbish girls would have shown her no mercy at her fall in status. No wonder Lucy hated “ladies.”
“But your father always came for you in the end.”
Lucy nodded. “Usually weeks later. He’d swan in with no apology, declare his daughter ‘too good for this rubbishy institution’ and announce that he was withdrawing me to place me in a much better school.” She grimaced. “Which he did.”
“And the same thing happened again.” It wasn’t really a question. Five different schools, and each time, nothing at the end but humiliation for Lucy. Alice had no doubt that this had also happened with the Austrian opera singer and the French comtesse. And now her.
“Yes.” A slight breeze rustled the leaves. Lucy folded her arms and shivered, although it wasn’t cold. After a minute she turned and faced Alice. “The money’s run out, hasn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so,” Alice said regretfully. “Of course, your father might be arranging to send more even now—”
“He won’t. He never does. He flashes it around at the start, but that’s it.” There was a long silence, then she took a deep breath. “I suppose you want me to leave now.”
“Of course I don’t,” Alice said indignantly. “You forget, I made a vow when I became your godmother.”
Lucy said dully, “Yes, but that wasn’t real. It was just one of Papa’s schemes.”
“It was real to me. I made a promise before God, and I meant every word.”
Lucy stared at her a moment, then her confusion cleared. “Oh, of course—the blackmail. I’d forgotten for a moment. You can’t afford to let me go.”
“It’s not that at all. Of course I am worried about what your father will do with the letters, but it’s your father I blame, not you. Money or not, you are staying right here.”
Lucy bit her lip, then took Alice’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry for all this trouble, Alice. I promise you, I’ll find a husband as fast as I can and get out of your way” She took a deep breath and added, “I’ll even marry a lord if you can find one who’ll have me.”
Alice would have laughed if the poor girl wasn’t so bitterly ashamed and in earnest. “There’s no need to go that far,” she said in a bracing voice. “Blackmail or not, I’m not letting you go to anyone but a gentleman who will love and cherish you as you deserve to be loved and cherished.”
Lucy’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “You are so good to me, Alice. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t need to thank me. We might have started off badly, but my life was quite drab and uneventful when we first met. Now scarcely a day goes by without something exciting happening, and I’ve met all sorts of interesting and unusual people.”
Lucy gave a cynical snort. “Blackmailers, liars—”
“Yes, indeed, not to mention poets, pedants and passionate pig breeders.”
It surprised a reluctant laugh out of Lucy. “You can blame your nephew for those ones.”
“Oh, believe me, I do. But my point is, your coming to live with me has brightened my life immeasurably. And despite the difficulties—and the blackmail—I’ve enjoyed it more than I would have believed possible. In fact”—she linked her arm through Lucy’s—“I’ve come to love you like a daughter. So I won’t hear another word about your leaving—unless it’s on the arm of a handsome, thoroughly besotted man. Now, shall we go in and see what Mrs. Tweed is preparing for luncheon?”
“Oh, Alice.” Lucy’s eyes flooded with tears and she hugged Alice tightly. “No one has ever been as good to me as you, and yet you have every reason to hate me.”
Alice hugged her back. “Nonsense. You’ve done nothing to be blamed for, and besides, there’s enough hate in the world. I refuse to add to it. Now come along and wipe your eyes. It’s time for luncheon!”
* * *
* * *
After luncheon, Alice called on her nephew at his lodgings. It was one thing to refuse to allow Lord Tarrant to help her when it was just about the blackmail. But to let Bamber abandon his daughter to poverty and humiliation again? No indeed. She wanted the wretched man tracked down and called to account.
And if that was at the expense of her own dignity, so be it.
“You’ve made the right decision, Aunt Alice,” Gerald said when she explained.
She’d given him her permission to take Lord Tarrant into his confidence and was still feeling quite hollow and a bit sick at the thought of Tarrant’s reaction. But it had to be done. Bamber had left her with no choice.
“When do you think you’ll speak to him?”
“Tarrant? Oh straight away, I should think.” Seeing her surprise, he added, “He arrived in London last evening—I saw his carriage pull up outside Tarrant House last night and three little girls tumble out. He’s had plenty of time to get himself and his daughters settled in.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I’ll call on him this evening.”