Alice stared at him blankly. “Why?”
“I want her to marry a lord,” he said.
“Which lord?” she said faintly.
“I don’t mind—as long as heisa lord. I have a fancy for my grandson to have a title. Lucy’s no beauty, but she’s well enough, and with your sponsorship...” He sat back, crossed his legs and regarded her complacently.
Alice shook her head, her mind numb, and yet at the same time whirling. He had no idea what he was asking. “I’m sorry, but—”
“I’m sure thetonwould love to read these letters, Lady Charlton,” he interrupted in a silky voice. “I could make a pretty penny by publishing them. Quite lubricious they are, and not just the bits where he’s writing about Mrs.Jennings’s many charms. He writes quite a lot about you, too. Not quite so juicy, but... fascinating all the same.”
There was vomit in Alice’s throat. She forced it down.
Bamber continued. “Your husband left his mistress quite well-off, didn’t he?” He glanced meaningfully around the room. “She’s not selling off her paintings and pretty bits and pieces. She didn’t need the money and had no plan to sell the letters... until I mentioned the possibility of publishing them. Quite excited that thought made her.” He paused to let it sink in. “She really has it in for you, don’t she, your ladyship?”
It was true. Mrs.Jennings was a butcher’s daughter and the widow of a stonemason. Thaddeus had wanted to marry his beautiful mistress, but his father, the old earl, was outraged at the notion and insisted he take a bride from the aristocracy—a pure young girl who would bear him an heir—or be cut off without a penny.
Thaddeus might have loved his beautiful mistress, buthe loved money more. For that, Mrs.Jennings had always hated Alice.
Your husband left his mistress quite well-off.And all this time, Thaddeus’s legal wife had been battling with his debts, the result of his carelessness and financial irresponsibility. Several times Alice had teetered on the brink of ruin, but she’d always handled things, made some arrangement, found something to sell. And finally she was almost debt-free.
Now, none of it would matter. This ghastly man and his packet of vile letters was going to plunge her into a different kind of ruin.
Crossing his legs, he leaned back and gave her a long, pensive look, before adding with casual relish, “Wouldn’t your fine society friends enjoy reading all these letters. All those fascinating, intimate, explicit details.”
Her stomach cramped. They would. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves.
She would never be able to look anyone in the face again.
“But if you agree to sponsor my daughter into society and help her find a lord to marry, nobody need ever know.”
Alice’s breath caught in her throat. Could he possibly mean it? He’d just give her the letters. And not publish them? “What are you saying?”
“The day my daughter marries a lord, I’ll give you these letters, free and clear. You can burn them or do what you like with them.”
Her heart sank. She was desperate—more than desperate—to get those letters, but with the best will in the world, what he was asking was impossible. She opened her mouth to explain why, but his next words robbed her of breath.
“I know it’s expensive to launch a young lady in society, and I’ll cover all the costs.” He pulled out a thick wad of banknotes from a pocket and laid it on the table. “That for her board and lodging.” He laid another bundle of banknoteson top of it. “That to cover her dresses—from a proper high-class mantua-maker, mind. The special dress for the royal presentation—”
Royal presentation?Only girls of the highest birth were presented at court. “That’s completely out of the quest—”
“This for shoes and fans and shawls and all the rest of the folderols that ladies require.” He added to the pile of notes on the table before her. “And naturally I’ll pay you a fee for your own expenses.” With a dismissive glance at her dress, he set the last bundle of banknotes down with a flourish. “Can’t have my daughter’s sponsor looking shabby, can we?”
Alice stared. She’d never seen so much money in her life. But what he asked was preposterous. “I told you—”
“Of course, once she’s married, as well as the letters, you’ll get a bonus, depending—I want a proper lord, mind. A duke would be best, but there’s not many of them around, so something a bit lower down will do. But I won’t stand for nothing lower than a baronet. My grandson will have a title, or I’ll want to know the reason why.” He sat back and eyed her smugly. “That’s opened your eyes, hasn’t it, my lady?”
Alice couldn’t deny it. He talked of shopping for a lord as if it were as simple as choosing cabbages from the market. “Mr.Bamber, even if I agreed to do what you asked, society doesn’t operate like that.”
He snorted. “Of course it does. Money talks to toffs the same as it does to everyone else.”
Alice eyed the stack of notes wistfully. Ironic that after all the scrimping and saving she’d done since Thaddeus had died, here she was having to reject an offer of a huge sum of money. But money was no longer her priority. The letters were the only thing that mattered to her now, and she would do almost anything to get them.
But he didn’t know what he was asking.
How could she make him understand? The ton wasexclusive, meaning its members actively worked toexcludepeople. Entry to the highest levels of society was not simply granted to people with money—it was all about birth and blood and breeding. Connections. Belonging. The daughter of a poor vicar with an aristocratic lineage was welcomed, whereas a rich man’s daughter of no particular background would be rigidly excluded. There were hundreds of unspoken rules designed especially to keep out people like this man and his daughter.
“I’m sorry,” she began, “but it’s just not possible.”
