Miss Westlake's Windfall by Bárbara Metzger Page B

meager dinner on a tray in her bedroom. She was not going to look a dowd in front of the viscount’s tonnish guests, whatever it took, including losing a pound, or ten.
    Jane had also sent her uncle Filbert off in the carriage to fetch Cousin Algernon home from school. Ada found out when it was too late to recall Mr. Johnstone. What did an education matter, Jane demanded, when so many heiresses would be so close to hand? From the amount of studying the dunderhead ever did, likely nothing, Ada had to agree. Algie was only in school at Ada’s insistence and by Chas’s influence anyway, after he’d wounded a grazing horse, hunting for hares. The clunch needed spectacles, not a wife.
    Still, dinner was a delight with Ada and Tess alone for once. Ada had never seen her sister happier, buoyed by Leo Tobin’s interest in her opera. Of course the opera was now a book to be copiously illustrated, whetting the public’s appetite for seeing the story set to music. They’d have twice the sales that way, Tess predicted. Leo, it seemed, agreed, although Ada had hardly heard him utter a word. The ship captain was going to take Tess aboard one of his boats on the morrow so she could sketch the settings, with a maid along for propriety’s sake, Tess added, at Leo’s suggestion.
    Did Ada think that Lady Ashmead might like Leo and her to do a reading from the story for her company? Tess wondered. Ada thought Lady Ashmead would rather see her husband’s dead body exhumed and eaten by crows.
    Jane might be correct, Ada reflected as she untied her dressing gown, that Leo Tobin had quaffed too much of his cargo. Or else, as Ada supposed, being Chas’s half-brother only gave him half Chas’s intelligence. Either way, the man seemed smitten with Tess. As for Tess, she declared that she would not accept any invitations to the Meadows if Leo were not also invited.
    Ada doubted if Lady Ashmead would be devastated by that news. The last time they had attended an evening gathering hosted by Chas’s mother, Tess had danced the waltz. Lady Ashmead had never forgiven her, not because the viscountess was such a high-stickler, and Tess had never received the nod from any of the Almack’s hostesses before performing the daring dance, which was an absurdity, considering Tess’s advanced age. No, what had sent Chas’s mother into paroxysms was that Tess hadn’t waltzed at a ball; she’d danced at a musicale, in front of the hired orchestra and fifty seated guests. Without a partner.
    Chas would see that Tess received invitations, nonetheless. Leo might be another matter. Ada yawned. She’d worry about that another day, too.
    Before getting into bed, she knelt on the stool alongside, to say her prayers. “Thank you, Lord, for a lovely day,” she began, wondering if it were quite proper to thank the Almighty for Chas’s kiss. She decided to keep that to herself, thanking God for the health and prosperity of her household instead.
    “And thank you, lord, and Rodney too, if you made it to Heaven, for letting me have a day’s rest from Jane’s nattering about the money. She feels that since it was found on Westlake property, it belongs to all of us equally, but I cannot agree. Lord, if you meant it as a gift from heaven, I really wish you had sent it on a bolt of lightning or something, so we would be sure, not left it in a tree. Please guide me to do the right thing with it.”
    The money was safely locked in her father’s old desk, but it still worried Ada. She simply could not be comfortable claiming someone else’s fortune, or smuggling profits. She was also bothered by the niggling urge to take some of the money and buy pretty gowns for her and Tess to wear at the upcoming social gatherings. She’d get rid of the money tomorrow, before she succumbed to such a base temptation.
    “Please keep me from giving in, at least until I reach the Customs office. Oh, and do watch over Emery, Lord, and keep him safe, with all of his friends and