Mistress - Amanda Quick [74]
Barclay consulted his notes. “Miss Bright was born and reared in the village of Deepford. Very small place. Finding it gave me no end of trouble, I assure you.”
“Nevertheless,” Marcus said, “you did find it.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
And if Barclay had discovered Deepford and the lack of a late Mr. Bright, others could do the same, Marcus thought. If someone else—a blackmailer, perhaps—grew curious enough to investigate her past, he would quickly learn that Iphiginia was no widow and therefore not immune to the rules Society imposed upon spinsters and innocents.
Marcus did not know which annoyed him the most, the fact that Iphiginia was so very vulnerable or her refusal to acknowledge her vulnerability.
“Continue, Barclay.”
“Her parents, both of whom appear to have been endowed with somewhat unconventional temperaments, were lost at sea when she was barely eighteen years of age. She undertook the raising of her younger sister, Corina.”
Just as I undertook the rearing of Bennet, Marcus thought. “How did she support herself and her sister? Was there a decent income from some inheritance?”
“No. Merely a bit from the sale of her mother’s paintings and one or two pattern books that her father had produced.”
Marcus picked up his wax seal and turned it in his fingers. “Not a great deal of money, then.”
“No, m’lord, but Miss Bright appears to be rather enterprising in matters of finances.”
Marcus got a chill in his gut. “What do you mean by that?”
“The first thing Miss Bright did after recovering from the shock of finding herself alone in the world with a young sister to support was to sell off the last of her mother’s paintings and her father’s pattern books. She used the money to open an academy for young ladies.”
Marcus nearly dropped the seal on the desk. He stared at Barclay. “Miss Bright gave instruction to young ladies?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Deportment, manners, proper behavior? That sort of instruction?”
“Among other things. Apparently Miss Bright’s academy had an excellent reputation. A number of respectable gentry families in the vicinity sent their young girls to her.”
“Good God.” Marcus was nearly overcome by a crazed desire to laugh out loud. The thought of Iphiginia —notorious, free-spirited, daring Iphiginia—making a living teaching Society’s grim, straitlaced rules to young ladies was dazzling.
“Her cousin, Miss Farley, came to live with her a year after Miss Bright lost her parents. Miss Farley taught mathematics and natural history, I believe.”
“You say the school’s reputation was excellent?”
“Yes, m’lord. As was the reputation of Miss Bright herself. You may well believe that in a town the size of Deepford, any faults, transgressions, or lapses of propriety would have been duly noted and punished.”
“A single lapse would have been enough to destroy her livelihood.”
“More than enough. A teacher of young ladies must maintain the highest standards. She cannot afford even the appearance of improper conduct.”
“Poor Iphiginia.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Never mind. Carry on. What else did you learn?”
“Let me see.” Barclay shuffled some sheets of foolscap. “About three years ago, Miss Bright made another financial move which paid off rather handsomely.”
“What sort of move?”
“It appears that she and her cousin formed a pool of investors. The pool was made up entirely of widows and spinsters, women who were in much the same position as themselves. They each contributed small amounts to a fund. The money was then loaned to a builder.”
“A property speculation project?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Which property?”
“Morning Rose Square.”
“Bloody hell.” Marcus grinned appreciatively. “She must have made a packet.”
“She did,” Barclay said dryly. “She used some of her profits to provide her sister with a suitable portion.”
“What about the sister? Where is she?”
“Still in Deepford. Last year she married one Richard Hampton, the only son of an established gentry family.”
“I see. Presumably the Hamptons are blissfully unaware