Something Scandalous. Christie Kelley
in frustration.
“Unless the entire family was wiped out by those savages they have over there. Besides, it really should not matter to you,” Caroline commented. “You will either be a burden on us or the new duke.”
A fact not lost on her. Elizabeth had only the very small allowance left to her from her fath—the late duke. “I realize that, Caroline. I suppose I shall live with one of my sisters once the duke is installed.”
“As if they want you,” Caroline sneered.
“It is nothing to concern yourself over,” Elizabeth snapped. Her sisters were so much older that she barely knew any of them, save Jane. And none of them had ever taken the time to invite her to stay with their families for more than a week.
“And I don’t,” Caroline retorted with one brown eyebrow arched. “But if I were you, I would be looking at all the eligible gentlemen.”
Self-serving Caroline would only be looking for the richest and highest titled gentleman she could hope to snare. Elizabeth didn’t want that. If she found herself in a position that required marriage, then she wanted to find a man who would love her for who she was…or who she wasn’t.
“Nonetheless, Elizabeth,” Richard started in a slow, warm voice, “we only want what is best for the estates. Your late father’s steward could be robbing the family blind, for all we know. Someone must take over things until we hear from the new duke. My solicitor will petition the prince so that I may oversee the estates until such time as Edward either makes an appearance here, or is deemed deceased.”
Elizabeth stared at Richard. With gray hair and tired lines creasing his forehead, he looked every bit his sixty years. She released a long sigh. “I have been checking over the books from each estate every month, Richard. My father’s steward is an honest man.”
Caroline gave a quick shake of her head. While her husband looked on the verge of elderly, Caroline was only six years older than Elizabeth’s twenty-six years.
“You are looking after the books?” Caroline asked in a high-pitched tone. “I thought you were a lady.”
“I am quite competent when it comes to mathematics. Unlike either of you, I grew up on the estates. Who better to know what they need?”
“Of course, cousin,” Richard said quietly.
Elizabeth knew she was defeated. Unless she petitioned Prinny himself. But she doubted the prince would even listen to her. He would want what was best for the estates, and that meant a man controlling the lands, not her. She was a bit surprised the prince hadn’t managed the situation before now.
“If your sisters refuse to take you in, I suppose you could stay here,” Richard said.
“Richard!” Caroline’s voice pitched higher. “In a few months, there won’t be room in the house.” She rubbed her rounded belly.
Richard shook his head and rolled his eyes. “This house is large enough for a passel of children, Caroline. I cannot have my cousin on the streets.”
“But—”
“Enough, Caroline.”
Elizabeth might have felt a spark of hope, except Richard’s tired tone was scarcely convincing.
“And yet, we all know she isn’t truly your cousin,” Caroline muttered before standing to leave.
Before Elizabeth could think of one decent retort, the couple left. It wasn’t surprising that they knew about her past. The rumors regarding her lack of inheritance had been the talk of the ton for months now. Most assumed it was due to a disagreement with her father over a suitor—a rumor she had started and encouraged.
But a few might have guessed the truth.
Silence finally filled the house as Elizabeth sat on the brocade sofa with a sigh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this tired. Picking up her small glass of sherry, she took a sip, letting the fruity essence rest on her tongue a moment before swallowing. Her head lolled back against the fabric as she stared at the ornate ceiling of her small salon. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of horses clomping past her home.
Only it wasn’t her home any longer.
She had to do something, but at this point, her options had just about run out. Tomorrow, Richard and Caroline would return. This time with a solicitor in tow, no doubt. Elizabeth understood their desire for the house—greed and position. Nevertheless, the house wasn’t theirs, and she would do everything in her power to make certain it stayed that way. She’d never trusted Caroline, and lately, Elizabeth questioned Richard’s reasonableness. In the past four months, he had been spending more time at the gaming hells, and according to the gossips, losing serious amounts of money. Money she knew he didn’t have.
Some days, she even wondered if the new duke had ever attained notice of his inheritance. Her father had died ten months ago, and she had never received one word from her distant cousin, Edward.
Of course, he wasn’t truly her cousin.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and stared at the empty fireplace. She had to find her mother’s diary before Richard and Caroline found a legal way to have her removed, or Edward arrived from Canada. Her mother had kept several diaries, and none held the information Elizabeth desired. After finding those journals in drawers, she discovered none contained anything too personal. However, one book made a mysterious reference to a hidden diary, and that was the one Elizabeth needed to find.
She had to uncover the truth.
After all this time, she wondered if the diary even existed any longer. Her father might have found the journal and burned it. Or her mother might have given the diary to a close friend to keep it away from Father. Elizabeth doubted both ideas. Her mother had died quickly following a carriage accident. She would have had no time to give the diary to a friend, and her father never seemed to care enough to look for it. Perhaps he had no need and had already learned the name of her mother’s lover.
Elizabeth had only five rooms left to recheck. It made the most sense that the diary had been stashed somewhere in this house, since her mother rarely traveled to the estates. After checking every room in the townhome, she’d performed a thorough inspection of the other estates and uncovered nothing. Not one clue to her real identity.
Furiously, she blinked away the tears welling in her eyes. She refused to cry one more tear over something as silly as her real father’s name. In the eyes of Society, she was and would always be Lady Elizabeth Kendal.
There had to be something she was missing in her search. Perhaps there was a secret compartment in a desk, or a hidden room that she had overlooked.
“Lady Elizabeth?”
She turned at the sound of the footman. “Yes?”
“Miss Reynard is here to see you.”
Why would Sophie be here at this late hour? “Send her in and bring some tea and cakes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Elizabeth sat up and composed herself while waiting for her dear friend.
“Elizabeth, thank goodness you are here and not at Lady Tavistock’s ball.” Sophie rushed into the room and flopped to the sofa. Black tendrils clung to her forehead as she removed her damp hat.
“Why?”
Sophie shook her head. “Lady Tavistock would never have invited me to her ball and then I wouldn’t be able to speak with you. I do apologize for the lateness of the hour, though.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I am not certain. I had a vision and needed to see you immediately.” Sophie picked up Elizabeth’s hand and clutched it tightly in her own hand. Closing her eyes, she went still. “I was right,” she whispered.
“Right about what?” Elizabeth pressed her friend for an