Chapter Seven #2
“And you can honor her memory by telling the truth,” Lockwood coaxed. “For suitable compensation, of course.”
“Baron,” Mrs. Bellamy interjected, her tone warning, “What’s in it for me? You have this information because of me and Kitty. And as you know, everything comes at a price.”
“Come now, Bellamy.” Lockwood fixed her with a knowing look. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
The proprietress’s lips thinned. “Kitty, dear, fetch us some fresh glasses, would you?”
Once the younger woman had departed, Mrs. Bellamy leaned across the table, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Tread carefully, Baron. I don’t take kindly to being double crossed.”
“Nor do I,” Lockwood growled. “You best remember to keep quiet about this until I’m ready.”
“What are you going to do? Travel to Ireland and look for evidence—or should I say, lack of evidence—of their marriage?” Mrs. Bellamy retorted.
“Furoe would probably pay anything to keep the details of his bastard from going public. He’s in need of a wealthy wife.
No father would want a man with a bastard daughter.
” Her eyes hardened. “This could be most profitable for both of us. I want out of this life too. I’m getting on in years.
A nice cottage in the country would suit me. ”
Lockwood’s smile never wavered, though a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You misunderstand me, dear lady. I merely seek to restore what’s mine.
Lord Furoe robbed me of my rightful winnings, humiliated me before my peers and I want my family home back.
If his past offers a means of redress, who am I to ignore such providence?
” His lips formed a sly smile. “And if I can use this information to become wealthy, why shouldn’t I? It’s not my fault Furoe was a sucker.”
“And the child? Would you destroy her future for your petty revenge?”
Something flickered across Lockwood’s face, a momentary hesitation, quickly suppressed. “Maybe I can keep the child’s secret if it’s worth it to me,” he said dismissively. “What have you heard about his ex-fiancée, Lady Courtney?”
Mrs. Bellamy regarded him with undisguised contempt. “She is letting him court her, I believe. Furoe needs her dowry, and she’s mourned him for five years. I suspect she’s still madly in love with the man.”
He tapped his fingers together. “Interesting. That might be a way in.”
“What are you thinking now?” Mrs. Bellamy asked.
But before he could answer, Kitty returned with fresh glasses, her expression carefully neutral, though her hands trembled slightly as she set them down.
“Thank you, my dear,” Lockwood said, his voice silky. “Now, tell me more about your friend Ava. Everything you can remember. Leave nothing out.”
As Kitty began her reluctant recitation, Lockwood’s mind whirred with possibilities.
This could be the leverage he needed not just to recoup his losses, but to destroy Furoe entirely.
The scandal would be delicious: the noble viscount, living in sin with a brothel girl, passing off his bastard as legitimate.
Society would devour him alive. What would he pay to stop that secret coming out?
His London house and sister’s hand in marriage?
Or could he take a different tack. Lady Courtney loved Furoe. She had a very large dowry and was the daughter of a Marquess. What would she pay to keep her lover’s secret? Lockwood wouldn’t mind Lady Courtney as his wife. What a rise in status that would be.
And more importantly, Furoe would learn what it meant to cross Baron Lockwood.
He might still be able to get Danvers House by buying it from Furoe when he didn’t find a wealthy wife in time.
Hell, once he married Lady Courtney and had her dowry in his hands, he could still reveal Furoe’s secret and see the man ostracized and lose everything.
“One more thing,” he said, interrupting Kitty’s narrative. “Did this Ava ever mention a cousin? Someone who might have accompanied her and the child to London?”
Kitty’s eyes widened slightly. “I believe her cousin, Caitria, arrived to care for Ava-Marie when she became ill.”
“And this Caitria—would she recognize you? Would she know of Ava’s…profession?”
“I don’t know. She lived in Cork, a long way away from Dublin. She might not know the story.” Kitty shrugged.
Lockwood’s mind whirled. “I’ll send someone to Ireland immediately.” He raised his glass in a mocking toast. “To Lord Lucien Furoe and the house of cards he’s built around himself. May it collapse spectacularly.”
Mrs. Bellamy’s body hummed too. She’d survived in her business by knowing when to speak and when to remain silent.
And something in Lockwood’s eyes tonight—a merciless gleam, cold as winter—suggested silence was the wiser course.
She would bide her time and get what she wanted from Lockwood when she found out how much he received for this knowledge.
Alternatively, she could do some blackmailing of her own.
Kitty, however, could not contain herself. “What are you planning, my lord? I don’t want Ava’s child harmed. Whatever Ava did, the girl is innocent.”
“Innocent?” Lockwood repeated, the word twisting on his tongue as if it were foreign.
“No one is innocent, my dear. We’re all tainted by the circumstances of our birth, the choices of our parents.
” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur.
“But don’t fret. I won’t harm the child…
physically. I’ll simply ensure that society knows exactly who—and what—she is, if I have to.
But I believe Furoe will pay to keep her secret. ”
“That’s cruel,” Kitty whispered.
“That’s justice,” Lockwood said, correcting her.
“His justice, for what he’s done to me.” His eyes gleamed with unholy satisfaction.
“And when I’m finished, when the mighty Viscount Furoe is brought low by his own deception, when his precious daughter bears the stain of illegitimacy that no amount of wealth or privilege can erase…
then perhaps he’ll understand the cost of humiliating Baron Lockwood. ”
He drained his glass in one fluid motion, setting it down with a decisive click. “Now, Kitty, I’ll need you to write down everything you remember about Ava and this gentleman she claimed as her husband. Every detail, no matter how small.”
Glancing briefly at Mrs. Bellamy, Kitty said, “I can’t write, Baron.”
Lockwood merely grunted. “Then I’ll get my lawyer to draft up a note that you can leave your mark on.”
Kitty looked even more uncomfortable. She jumped to her feet. “I must depart, Mrs. Bellamy. You won’t see me here again—I hope. Good day, Baron Lockwood.”
Once Kitty had left, Mrs. Bellamy watched Lockwood with growing unease.
She’d seen many men consumed by revenge during her years in the demimonde.
Noblemen, merchants, soldiers, all twisted by their thirst for retribution.
Few ever found the satisfaction they sought, and many destroyed themselves in the process.
But Lockwood…there was something different about him.
A cold calculation beneath the veneer of wounded pride.
A patience that boded ill for young Lord Furoe and his little family.
Lockwood would find a way to line his pockets with this information.
Appeasing his wounded pride would always be secondary to money because the baron needed coin more than pride.
And she intended to get her fair share of whatever the baron earned from this information she’d help reveal.
Or perhaps there was another way. Perhaps she should call on Lord Furoe.