The King of Threadneedle Street by Moriah Densley

Author:Moriah Densley [Densley, Moriah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Historical, Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781621351528
Google: JFkXDD2Nb-QC
Amazon: B00CDGSIIU
Barnesnoble: B00CDGSIIU
Goodreads: 17826397
Publisher: esKape Press
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare

Summer of 1872, Rougemont Park in Devonshire, England

Lord Courtenay visited Rougemont. He wanted to check on Christian, no doubt. He likely wanted to keep Alysia under his thumb as well. He conversed with Lord Devon after dinner, and the two old friends were being quite candid. They obviously had no idea Alysia could hear them. She held baby Jacob, who had fallen asleep. She had laid her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes for feeling drowsy, but she wasn’t sleeping. She kept her breath slow and relaxed her face while she listened from across the room.

“That is true, Wil, but it seems the same sort of trouble is brewing for you as well.” She knew Lord Courtenay meant Philip’s attentions to her. She held his son at the moment, aptly illustrating the marquess’ argument.

Lord Devon answered, “I am sympathetic of the trouble that results from marrying for anything other than love.”

Lord Courtenay defended, “I was not much older than Andrew when I married. I did what was demanded of me by my elders. I did my duty.”

“Then perhaps you might admire Preston’s fortitude. Happily married, one assumes he would ultimately avoid the problems you face.”

“But she is the daughter of a courtesan!”

Lord Devon countered stiffly, “Careful, Courtenay. So is my wife, strictly speaking, and you were eager to support me. Why not do it for your son?”

“Sophia is a peeress, an heiress, and properly brought up,” Lord Courtenay argued.

“Violet Villier was a countess, and Alysia has you to thank for her proper upbringing. Her fortune shouldn’t matter, but I understand it is more than adequate.”

“But Sophia’s father was a viscount—”

“Sophia’s father was deposed as a traitor and murderer. I don’t see how that is better than an unknown father, Courtenay.” Lord Devon’s voice sharpened, and she worried the two old friends would fall out over her. It was a sensitive topic now that Lady Devon was concerned.

Lord Devon continued, “I prefer to judge by one’s character. Alysia is a delight, and I would gladly give my blessing if she wanted Philip.”

Alysia nearly seized with shock for his boldness. Lord Courtenay scoffed.

“The world is changing, Courtenay. By degrees tradition gives way to democracy and capitalism. The empire as we knew it is gone.”

She heard a thud; Lord Courtenay must have struck the arm of his chair. “I cannot toss my legacy to the wind.”

“Andrew will do as he pleases.”

“True. I was too indulgent. The damage is done.”

“I get the impression she is capable of keeping him out of trouble. And think of your grandchildren, Courtenay.”

Just then Philip approached to take the baby, and he apologized when he thought he woke Alysia. She made a show of blinking, trying to look disoriented and groggy. She knew she was being watched while Philip helped her up and escorted her from the room. She was still reeling from hearing Lord Devon speak so kindly of her.

****

Alysia and Madeline sat on the bed in Madeline’s room with baby Jacob lying between them.

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