A Reputation for Notoriety. Diane Gaston
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are bills.’
‘They are bills, but do not fret. I have funds to pay some of them.’ Celia moved the stacks of bills to pay farther away from those that would have to wait. ‘Including the modiste. So you may order a new gown or two.’
Adele shook her head. ‘I do not need them. I can make do with my old ones.’
Celia rose from her chair and went over to the girl. ‘Indeed you may not!’ She took Adele’s hands. ‘It is very important for you to put in a good appearance! Your grandmother and I agree on that score. Besides I’ve—I’ve found some funds I did not know we had. We are not so poverty-stricken after all.’
Adele looked sceptical. ‘I hope you are telling me the truth and not shielding me as if I were a child.’
Celia squeezed her hands and avoided the issue. ‘Of course you are not a child. A child does not have a Season.’ Adele was nineteen years old. Celia herself was only twenty-three, but she felt ancient in comparison.
‘I am sending Tucker out with the payments today.’ Tucker had been one of the footmen who had served the Gales for years. Without overstepping the boundaries between servant and master, he’d been loyal to Celia through her marriage and widowhood. He was now her faithful butler.
‘Where did you find the money?’ Adele asked.
Celia pointed to the coins. ‘The silliest thing. I was looking for something else and I discovered a purse full of coin. Your father must have packed it away and forgotten about it.’
Adele’s expression saddened. ‘That was a fortunate thing. Had he found it he would have lost it gambling.’
What would Adele think if she knew where the money had really come from?
Only three people knew of Celia’s trip to the Masquerade Club—Tucker, her housekeeper, Mrs Bell, and Younie, Celia’s lady’s maid. Younie was lady’s maid to all three women since Lord Gale’s death.
What would Adele think if she knew Celia planned to return to the gaming hell tonight?
An image of Rhysdale flew into her mind. Would he watch her again? Her heartbeat accelerated.
The Dowager Lady Gale, Celia’s mother-in-law, entered the room. ‘There you are, Adele.’ She did not greet Celia. ‘We must decide what you are to wear to the musicale tonight. It cannot be the blue gown again. Everyone has seen that gown twice already. It will be remembered.’ She finally turned to Celia. ‘She absolutely needs new dresses. You are excessively cruel to deny them to her.’
Celia pasted a smile on her face. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Gale.’
Like Celia, Lady Gale wanted Adele to have a successful Season, ending in a betrothal. The difference was, Celia wanted Adele to find someone who could make her happy; Lady Gale cared only that Adele marry a man with a good title and good fortune.
Celia adopted a mollifying tone. ‘You will be pleased to know Adele and I have been talking of dresses. I have payment for the modiste, so Adele may order two new gowns.’
Her mother-in-law, silver-haired and as slim-figured as she’d been in her own Season, narrowed her eyes. ‘Only two? I cannot abide how tight-fisted you are!’
Celia forced herself to hold her tongue. Engaging in a shouting match with the dowager would serve no purpose. ‘Only two for now, but I am confident our finances will soon improve and Adele may order more.’
Her conscience niggled. How many times had her father purchased something, saying he’d win enough to pay for it?
Lady Gale pursed her thin lips. ‘And I am to wear my old rags, I suppose.’
Celia’s smile froze. ‘You may order two gowns for yourself, if you like.’
‘Will you come with us tonight, Celia?’ Adele looked hopeful. She was too kind to say she did not find her grandmother’s company altogether pleasant at such gatherings.
Celia calculated what time the musicale would end. It would still give her time to attend the gaming house for a few hours of play. ‘If you wish.’
‘I do!’ Adele’s countenance brightened.
Her grandmother rolled her eyes. ‘You will dress properly, I hope.’
‘I will, indeed.’ Celia always dressed properly. Her most daring gown was the one she’d worn to the Masquerade Club the night before. Its neckline had always seemed too low. She’d only worn it because she thought no one would recognise her in it, as if anyone at these society events noticed what she wore. None the less, she would change into it to wear to the gaming house tonight, as well.
She turned to Adele. ‘Why don’t you see if Younie has any ideas of how to alter one of your old gowns for tonight? She is very clever at that sort of thing.’
Adele jumped to her feet. ‘An excellent idea! I will do that right away.’ She started for the door. ‘I beg your leave, Grandmama.’
Lady Gale waved her away. ‘Go.’ She called after Adele. ‘Younie is in my room, Adele. She is mending.’
Adele skipped away and Lady Gale turned to Celia. ‘I do not see why my granddaughter and I must share your lady’s maid.’
Celia kept her voice even. ‘Because we do not have the funds to hire more servants.’
‘Money!’ the older woman huffed. ‘That is all you ever talk of.’
Money had consumed her thoughts, Celia would be the first to admit. Except this day thoughts of money were mixed with combinations of hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds.
Would Rhysdale be pleased at her return? Celia wondered.
She gave herself a good shake. Why was she even thinking of the man? It was not a good thing that she had come to his notice, no matter how attractively masculine he was. She planned to win and win often.
What if he accused her of cheating?
Lady Devine’s musicale was a sought-after event and Celia’s mother-in-law said more than once how lucky they were to have received an invitation. Celia, Adele and Lady Gale were announced amidst Lady Gale’s grumbling that they ought to have had a gentleman escorting them.
They strolled through the rooms where the pink of the ton were assembled. Celia recognised some of the men as having been at the gaming house the previous night and she wondered how many more of these people—ladies especially—had been there, as well, but wearing masks as she had done.
Some of the gentlemen’s faces at this entertainment had been quite animated at the gaming house, impassioned by the cards or the dice. Here in this Mayfair town house their expressions were bland. It seemed as if the risks of winning or losing made them come alive.
She did not know their names. The ton were known to her only from newspaper articles or books on the peerage. When her parents had been alive she’d been too young for London society. By the time she was married, her husband chose to keep her in the country so as not to interfere with his other ‘interests.’ The arrangement had suited her well enough. She preferred him to be away.
If she had been with him in London, though, she might have had some warning of his profligacy and the condition of his finances. She would have seen in him the telltale signs of gambling lust. Her childhood had honed her for it.
Her mother-in-law ought to have known how debauched her son had become. Lady Gale had spent most of her time in London as part of the social scene. In fact, it was because of Celia’s mother-in-law that they received as many invitations as they did. But her mother-in-law would never countenance anything negative being said about her only son.
Except his choice of a second wife.
One of the men who had been at the gaming hell passed close by. Celia had an impulse to ask her mother-in-law who the gentleman was, but Lady Gale gestured to her dismissively before she could speak.