The Magnificent Masquerade Read Online Free Page A

twenty thousand pounds penniless?"
    Lady Birkinshaw gaped. "Twenty thousand-?
Whatever are you babbling about?"
    His lordship chortled triumphantly. "You
heard me." His lady threw off her comforter and rose from the bed, looking
awesomely threatening despite the demure innocence of her long-sleeved white
nightgown. With arms akimbo and hands on her hips, she peered closely at his
leering face and demanded, "Thomas Jessup, are you soused?"
    "Sober as you, my dear," he answered
with a self-satisfied smirk.
    "I very much doubt that. Anyone who can claim
that a ne'er-do-well like Toby Wishart possesses a fortune must be raddled ...
or at least tiddly."
    "I am neither soused, raddled, nor tiddly,
ma'am. And I did not say the boy has a fortune now. But he will have it on the
day he marries our Kitty. Edgerton himself gave me his word on it."
    Her ladyship sank down on the bed, silenced.
Twenty thousand pounds! A sum of that size changed the picture completely. It
was perhaps not the most enormous fortune of anyone now on the marriage mart,
but it certainly wasn't a sum to be casually tossed aside. Lady Birkinshaw
realized at once that the situation was now one she had to reconsider.
"Good God," she muttered, "if word gets round that Edgerton
means to be so generous to Toby, every matchmaking mama in
London
will be after the scamp!"
    "Won't make no difference," her
husband assured her complacently. "Kitty's to have him. Edgerton and I
shook hands."
    But his wife hardly heard him. Her mind was
busily occupied in weighing the advantages of the proposed match against the
difficulties. That there were many advantages was now indisputably clear. For
one thing, it was unlikely that their Kitty, attractive and spirited though she
was, would find very many suitors of better-or even equal-prospects. Among the
eligibles, there were only three or four at most whose fortunes were greater;
on the other hand, there were dozens of young bachelors circulating among the
ton who couldn't lay claim to half such wealth. And Kitty was so contrary that
she might, if given a choice, attach herself to one of the latter.
    Like her husband, Lady Birkinshaw considered
her daughter to be quite unmanageable. She had been dreading for years the
troublesome necessity of bringing her daughter out. Although she was a fond
mother and was second to none in her admiration of her daughter's looks,
coloring, charm, wit, and spirit, she knew in her bones that Kitty would be
rebellious and perverse during the come-out season. Kitty was the sort who
would resent the rigid propriety that was expected of young ladies during their
"presentations." The girl would certainly balk at having to go to
fittings, she would want to choose shocking ball gowns in dreadful colors, she
would fall into scrapes at just the times when her behavior should be irreproachable,
and she was certain to make her poor mother's life a purgatory. It would be a
decided advantage to be able to avoid the entire experience.
    Her ladyship threw her husband a speculative
look. "I've been thinking, my dear," she admitted reluctantly,
"that there may be some merit in your plan. The boy is a handsome devil,
his family is among the best in
England
,
and with a fortune of that size he must be considered a good catch."
    "That is my view exactly." Her
husband grinned, sitting down beside her on the bed. "We might go through
a whole season without her getting herself a better offer." "Knowing
Kitty's propensity for contrariness, we have to consider the possibility that
she might do a great deal worse," Lady Birkinshaw agreed.
    His lordship, having won the day, puffed his
chest up proudly. "A great deal worse," he seconded. Then, taking his
wife's hand in his, he added with a mischievous glint, "Do you know what
else occurred to me, Hermione, my love?"
    "What?" she asked, glancing up at
him.
    "If we marry her off now, we wouldn't have
to bring the girl out! Save ourselves months of storm and strife."
    Her ladyship