The Bluestocking and the Rake by Norma Darcy

Author:Norma Darcy [Darcy, Norma]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2015-02-17T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

MISS BLAKELOW OPENED LORD Marcham’s letter in the privacy of her bedchamber. As she broke the seal and unfolded the wafer, several pieces of torn paper fluttered to the floor. Frowning, she picked them up and turned them over; they seemed to be bills for tailors and chandlers and wine merchants. Then she saw a thicker docket with her brother’s strong handwriting, declaring his intention to hand over Thorncote to Lord Marcham in lieu of gambling debts. The docket had been ripped in half.

Dear Miss Blakelow,

These are the bills for all your family’s debts, which I acquired as a means to have Thorncote. They belong to you. Your debt to me is from this moment dissolved. I hope this will relieve you of the necessity of having to leave your home and of ever having to see me again, which was the fervent wish you expressed this morning.

Your ever obedient servant,

Robert Holkham

Miss Blakelow slowly lowered her hand to her lap, his lordship’s letter still between her fingers. She could hardly believe her eyes. Why would he do this? The money he was owed ran into thousands. Why would he give up his advantage and Thorncote? She went to her writing desk and seized her pen.

Dear Lord Marcham,

I return these bills to you along with my sincere apology for the hateful words I said to you this morning. I hope you know that you will always be welcome at Thorncote.

I am grateful for the sentiment but I cannot accept your gift. It is too much. You must allow me to repay my debt to you in full. I will arrange payment for sixty-two pounds, which I believe takes care of my father’s hat-makers’ bill. The rest I will pay you as soon as I am able.

Yours affectionately,

Georgiana Blakelow

The letter was given to her maid, and it was dark when that lady returned to Thorncote in his lordship’s gig, driven by his lordship’s head groom. Betsy’s excitement at having a ride in such a “bang up” equipage was such that it was many moments before Miss Blakelow ascertained that she had another letter for her from Lord Marcham. She almost snatched the note from the maid’s hand.

My dear Miss Blakelow,

While I cherish your note, you must allow that sending torn pieces of paper to each other is rather futile. So instead, I have placed all the bills onto the fire.

As to payment—you know what I want,

R

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