She slipped inside and latched it. She didn’t know what time the servants rose but she didn’t want anyone disturbing her. They would tell on her to Father, and that would lead to questions she couldn’t answer.
Regina pulled open the curtains to her father’s study. The moonlight spilled through, illuminating the room. It wasn’t as good as a candle but it would do.
She began to carefully look through the papers on the desk. Surely information about the Duke of Whitefern had to be in there somewhere.
In looking, she found far more than she’d expected.
Father had been right. According to these lists of expenses, their income had been slipping every year. There were tallies of debts far greater than Regina had suspected.
Poor Bridget. She had known about these. Had she not thought to confide in someone? Why had she taken on this burden alone? Regina would have been happy to help.
She understood now why Bridget had spoken to her that morning. She glanced at the clock. Well, yesterday morning. She had known the debts would only get worse.
Regina looked at the papers again. At this rate, it was only a matter of a few years before Father was bankrupt.
How could they have let this go on for so long? Surely Bridget could have stood up to Father and forced him to stop.
The moment she had that thought, Regina dismissed it. She could not force blame onto others. She too had been ignorant. She had sat sewing and reading, oblivious to the issue. They had all known Father’s weakness. She was as much to blame as anyone for her inaction.
She set the papers aside and continued her search. Finally, she found it: in a stack of calling cards that Father kept. She recognized many names, including Lord Pettifer and Mr. Denny. It seemed this was a compilation of the men with whom Father played cards.
Regina took out a piece of paper and wrote down all the names. Then she copied down their addresses. If her plan was to succeed she had to know all the possible men involved.
The Duke of Whitefern was in there as well. It listed him as Lord Harrison, then his title, and an address. Regina was surprised to see the address was in London.
She went to the registry and looked up the Duke of Whitefern. All titled peoples were listed in the registry. There it stated that Whitefern was located on the opposite side of London from her own house.
Regina checked the address again. Perhaps Lord Harrison had an apartment in London? It was not unheard of.
To be certain, she wrote down two copies of her letter. One would go to the estate of Whitefern and the other would go to the London address.
She thought carefully over what she wanted to say. It wouldn’t do to spell out her entire plan. If the letter got into the wrong hands it would spell scandal for her. Well, more scandal than her family was already in.
In the end, she kept it brief:
Dear Lord Harrison,
Pardon my forwardness in writing you. As you may tell from my hand, it is a woman writing and not Lord Hartfield. I hope you allow me to call upon you on your earliest convenience. I think I have means by which my Father may be delivered from scandal. But I shall need your assistance. I hope that you will agree to my request. I promise I shall find a way to repay you for your time.
With best regards,
Miss Regina Hartfield
She addressed and sealed the two copies of the letter just as the sun was staring up over the hills. Every joint ached. Her eyes itched. She wanted to sleep for days.
Instead she made sure the desk was as she’d found it. Then she slipped out of the study and placed the letters in the box to be mailed. She made sure to sign the return address as from Lord Hartfield.
If it was discovered that she, an unmarried woman, had written to an unmarried man—the rumors that would start up didn’t bear thinking about. But there were many reasons her father would write to a man such as Lord Harrison.
After that was done, she retired up to bed. She could hear the sound of the scullery maids setting the fires. Regina had been up until dawn before, reading in bed. But that felt different. Curled up in bed with a gripping story was one thing. Dealing with scandal and secrets was another.
She slipped back into bed and pulled the covers up. Her letter would reach Lord Harrison within a day or two. He would help her. He had to help her. Then she could win their fortune back.
That thought was the last she had before sleep claimed her.
Chapter 7
Thomas Harrison stared down at the letter in front of him. His breakfast lay untouched on the table. It was probably getting cold but he couldn’t tear himself away.
Of all the things—he had not expected this.
When he had gone through his letters and saw that one was from Lord Hartfield, he had not been sure what to expect. Perhaps the man was writing to apologize? Or perhaps to thank him for assisting his daughter?
Instead when he had opened it he had seen that the letter was in fact from the daughter he had helped. Miss Regina.
She had been quite a pretty thing. None of her elder sister’s regal bearing or confidence, of course. But nevertheless she had a sweet face. Her eyes were the most striking thing. They were a dark brown and seemed warm and inviting.
The rest of her had been nice as well. She had a fine figure. Her hair was dark red, like her sister Bridget’s. She had a tiny face and delicate button nose. Also quite a lot of freckles. He’d thought those endearing.
Her manner had been quite contradictory. All he had heard of Miss Regina suggested a shy temperament. His admiration for her sister Miss Bridget he had ill-concealed. Bridget was witty, capable, confident, and beautiful, all that a man could want in a companion.
But in pursuing Bridget, he had learned about her family as a matter of course. Louisa, the second eldest, he had found to be even-tempered and thoughtful. She was well liked by all.
Natalie, the third, he had danced with once or twice. She was a spirited flirt. He hoped she would learn soon enough that treating men like puppets dancing attendance did not end well.
Elizabeth was the second youngest. He had not talked with her directly but he had heard many stories. While Natalie collected men’s hearts, Elizabeth collected their pride. There was hardly a man about who had not been cut by her wit.
Regina he had not seen until the other night.
“A mouse,” Miss Charlotte Tourney had said. “Terribly awkward. But I suppose it’s natural. She’s the youngest of five sisters. Must be quite competitive. And she’s not a beauty.”
Thomas had to disagree with Miss Tourney on that account. Regina was not a beauty like Bridget or Natalie, true. But she was also far from plain. She reminded him of a little fairy from his childhood stories.
Others had said similar things to Miss Tourney. Rarely leaves the house. Quite boring. Hardly speaks. No interest in dancing. Blurts out the most frank observations. Clearly the governess gave up on that one. Does nothing but sew. I do believe she is dull-witted.