Read Online Carola Dunn by The Fortune-Hunters - Free Book Online Page B

right people, but it was all a hum.”
    “It was?” Jessica asked cautiously. Quiet, shy Miss Pearson appeared to be ready to open the floodgates to a torrent of confidences.
    “Yes, for though her father was a baron, she was married to a clergyman and never set foot in London for thirty years. We only went to one party all Season, and that was horrid. No one spoke to us. So this year Papa decided to buy a house in Bath.”
    “And do you like Bath better?”
    “Well, it’s true that I go to all the balls and I have danced with any number of gentlemen, but I never know what to say to them. And I hate sitting with Mrs. Woodcock, waiting for Mr. King or Mr. Guynette to find me a partner and never sure whether the partners they find really want to dance with me at all.”
    “I know what you mean. I felt that way at my first assembly.”
    “Mrs. Woodcock says some gentlemen ask for an introduction only because they know I am rich. She told Papa that Mr. Barlow and Lord Alsop are fortune hunters. Of course I know Sir Nathan is not, nor Mr. Walsingham. He is Lord Stone’s heir, and Lord Stone is almost as rich as Papa, but I always feel that Mr. Walsingham is laughing at me and I cannot be comfortable with him.”
    Jessica’s guilt at the girl’s trust in Nathan’s respectability gave way to uneasiness as she recognized the name of the “Captain Sharp” her brother had mentioned. She herself had danced with Lord Alsop once and managed to avoid him thereafter. A gaunt gentleman of perhaps fifty years, he had a dissipated look about him, and a manner at once leering and ingratiating. His dandified dress, with high shirt points, padded shoulders and wasp waist, did nothing to counteract the unpleasant impression he had made on her. Though she considered herself more than a match for him, she could easily imagine him persecuting Miss Pearson with his attentions.
    “The assemblies are much more fun if you know some young ladies to talk to between the sets,” she said. “Will you sit with me at the next ball?”
    “Oh, Miss Franklin, that would be beyond anything!”
    Jessica smiled at her, a little overwhelmed by her gratitude. If they were to sit together, she decided, something must be done about the vulgarity of her dress. Though old-fashioned, Mrs. Woodcock’s gown was decently black, as became a widow. Perhaps “Papa” was responsible for the appalling lack of taste.
    “I have not met Mr. Pearson at the assemblies or in the Pump Room. He is not an invalid, I trust?”
    “No, he...” she hesitated, then went on in a burst of candour “... he does not go because he does not want to spoil my chances. You see, he is what people of your station call a Cit.” Her eyes were huge with apprehension.
    “Ah, that explains a good deal,” said Jessica slowly, patting her hand. “Cheer up, I shall not immediately cut the acquaintance, you know. But if your father wishes you to make a good marriage, you must not be so free with your confidences.”
    “Oh no, I have not told anyone else. I feel... I felt right away that I could trust you. But Papa does not mean to keep it a secret, only not to seem encroaching. He is already well known in Bath among the better class of merchants. In fact, before he retired he used to do business with one of the aldermen.”
    Feeling in need of time to sort out this flood of information, Jessica was delighted to see her brother and Mr. Walsingham crossing a lawn towards them. They were an attractive pair, Nathan not tall but with the proud carriage of a soldier, his gold hair gleaming in the sun as he raised his hat in greeting; and Matthew Walsingham lean and broad-shouldered, his limp in no way impairing the jauntiness of his stride.
    “Good day, ladies,” said Matthew, grinning. “What a surprise to meet you here.”
    “It is indeed,” Jessica riposted, “since I was under the impression that you intended to spend the afternoon driving some fortunate young lady in your