Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,75

see you, my lady.’

‘Me?’ Rosa glanced down at her one and only shabby gown collected from her old lodgings by a footman. ‘Please tell her I am not at home.’

‘Oh, dear,’ said a gentle voice behind the butler. ‘Didn’t Stanford tell you he’d asked me to call?’ She glanced at the butler, who swiftly withdrew. ‘He asked me to come and talk to you about the wedding arrangements.’

The heat of embarrassment scorched her cheeks. She laughed, albeit uncomfortably. ‘He left before I awoke this morning. I had no idea he planned to discuss my circumstances with you.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘Please sit down. Would you like tea?’

‘No, thank you. I cannot stay long. I have several more calls to make this afternoon. He plans for you to be married at my house. Do you have a date?’

‘Not as yet. It is extraordinarily generous of you to take such a personal interest in my predicament.’

‘Not at all. Stanford is my husband’s best friend.’

‘The last time I saw Stanford and your husband they were at daggers drawn. Or rather, fists raised?’

A brief smile tilted Penelope’s lips. ‘I gather it is what male best friends do. I hope we will also become friends and behave with far more civility.’

An offer of friendship? Rosa could barely believe her ears. She smiled. ‘You are too kind.’

‘Not at all. I would count it an honour to befriend the woman who captured Lord Stanford.’

Captured. Almost as bad as tricked. ‘It was a mistake.’

‘I wasn’t criticising. It was more…admiration.’ She smiled her sweet smile. ‘About the wedding. Are there family members you wish to invite?’

She would love to invite her sisters, but the headmistress would not allow them to leave until all the debts were settled and that would take a few days. Garth wanted the ceremony to take place right away.

Also, her sisters were still hoping she would find the will. She didn’t yet have the heart to tell them that it didn’t exist and she had married instead. She shook her head. ‘No one.’

‘Who will give you away? Stanford said your grandfather is in town.’

Rosa lifted her chin, the old anger at her only living relative swiftly heating her blood. It was partly Grandfather’s fault she was in this predicament. ‘No.’

‘Then leave it to Mark.’ She beamed. ‘Another of Stanford’s friends can serve as groomsman.’

‘Won’t it all seem terribly odd to the ton?’

Penelope waved an airy hand. ‘We’ll pass it off as a great romance. My husband is very well thought of in political circles and in society. If he approves of the match, many others will follow. Perhaps not those with the highest of insteps. It may be some time before you receive tickets to Almack’s, if ever, but you will hardly care about that once you have a husband.’

‘I will be seeking husbands for my sisters.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She seemed a little nonplussed, then tipped her head and tapped her bottom lip. ‘But not this year, I think. The Season is almost over. You will have lots of time to prove you are the very best of ton over the next few months. You must do exactly as I tell you and we can bring it off. Stanford, too.’

Did Garth account for the note of doubt in her voice? ‘I will do everything I can to live up to your expectations. I am very grateful.’

Penelope took her hand. ‘You were kind to me at Lady Keswick’s house. I am more than happy to return the favour. I really do hope we will become the best of friends.’

‘Me, too.’ For the first time in a long time, Rosa felt as if her feet were on solid ground, no more threats of prison hanging over her, the prospect of a good future for her sisters and now a friend. ‘I will never be able to thank you and Lord Smythe enough.’

Penelope hesitated. ‘There is one more thing I want to say. I am not quite sure how to put it.’

Rosa felt a prickle of wariness across her shoulders. ‘If we are to be friends, I would like you to feel free to speak your mind.’

‘Stanford is not the steadiest of men. No one was more surprised than my husband at his intention to marry.’

Rosa’s spine stiffened.

‘Not that you aren’t lovely enough to turn any man’s head,’ the other woman said. ‘Oh, dear, I am making a pickle of this. What I mean is, you should not have to marry out of necessity, if you do not like to