The Return of Lord Conistone by Lucy Ashford Read Free Book Online

his stories, and his zest, and his unquenchable optimism—and how secretly fearful she was as she faced life without him, under a mountain of burgeoning debt.
    Lady Frances Sheldon was still determined to marry off her daughters, and wanted to take Verena and Deb to London as soon as the minimum period of mourning was over. Verena told her mother that they simply could not afford the expense of a London Season; Pippa, usually Verena’s staunch ally, was by then expecting her twins, so Verena took on the full brunt of her mother’s anger.
    ‘I would hate to think you are jealous of Deb’s prettiness, my dear,’ said Lady Frances.
    ‘Jealousy, piffle! I am not going to London, Mama!’ declared Verena. ‘And you should not either!’
    But Lady Frances had insisted on taking Deb to London that autumn, for an extended stay with a rather foolish friend of hers, Lady Willoughby. Verena remained at Wycherley, trying to hold the estate together and to fend off their mounting debts. She was startled one afternoon to see a hired chaise rattling into the courtyard; when she’d hurried to see who it was, Deb and Lady Frances were climbing out.
    ‘Deb! Mama!’ Verena had cried. ‘I had not expected you back so soon!’
    Lady Frances, hurrying towards the house, waved herhand dismissively. ‘The disappointments, Verena! Lady Willoughby is
no true friend
, and I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of her! Pray have tea sent up to my room while I recover from the journey!’
    Deb, her pretty face clouded with ill humour, was about to follow, but Verena had barred her way. ‘Deb. What on earth’s happened?’
    Deb had burst into tears.
    Oh, Lord
, Verena had thought, ordering the staring Turley to unload the luggage. ‘Deb. Come inside. Tell me everything’.
    But Verena had rather wished she’d been spared at least some of the details when Deb told her in the parlour, between fits of tears and outbursts of anger, how she’d met Viscount Conistone at one of Lady Willoughby’s parties and that he had made severely improper advances.
    Verena had been stunned. ‘No!’
    Deb had started crying again. ‘Oh, yes! I thought I would be
safe
with Lucas! After all, last September
you
used to ride around the countryside with him, didn’t you, Verena? Often with only one of us for company, and no one said a thing! He—he took me into a side room, and gave me wine to drink—and then he attempted to
kiss
me, and murmured that we must meet, later! Oh, I would die if anyone else knew of my shame!’
    Until then, there had always been the faint hope in Verena’s beleaguered heart that the stories she heard about Lucas were somehow false, and that the Earl’s comment that Lucas had called her a silly fortune-hunter was a wicked concoction.
    But—
this?
For a start, what was Lucas doing at one of Lady Willoughby’s entertainments? He was part of the Carlton House set—he would never normally attend such a shabby affair! And—what did it matter? Any lasthope had died within her. She’d felt cold, alone and afraid. ‘Deb. Deb, listen to me. Maybe Lord Conistone had been drinking—’
    ‘Oh, you
would
say that! You are jealous; I might have known!’
    Verena bit her lip and tried again. ‘I’m only trying to say that you must pretend it never happened. Lucas—Lord Conistone—will say nothing either, if he has any sense of honour. Does Mama know anything of this?’
    ‘Mama? No, of course not! She insisted that we leave London because she fell out with Lady Willoughby over some petty business of who should pay for the theatre or some such thing. And some unpleasant people were starting to say that I should not be appearing at parties and routs, since I was not properly out…. But, Verena, listen. You don’t think—’ Deb had lifted her pretty, petulant face enquiringly ‘—that Lucas might perhaps really care for me? That if I’d stayed in London, he might have continued his attentions in a more proper fashion?’
    ‘I