Chapter Nineteen
Lucien sat by the fire in his study with a large brandy in hand, mentally exhausted.
Wolfarth had taken him to the House of Lords today.
It was as if he’d never sat in the house before and trying to learn the etiquette and rules drained him.
He was staying in tonight and Courtney was supposed to have joined the family for dinner, but she’d cried off.
A bad headache her note had said, probably due to tiredness.
She needed time to recover from the journey home from Dorset.
But still, something in her manner was off.
He missed her. He couldn’t wait until they married, then she would be here with him all the time.
He smiled as he remembered her laid out like the delectable feast she was, on his bed the night before they left Dorset.
He’d finally thought the horror of the past five years were over and he was starting down a path that he should have walked before he was injured.
He had found a way to save his family and so far, no one had questioned his time in Ireland. He could finally begin to let his guard down. But he still had to tell Courtney. Did he? Wouldn’t she be better off not knowing?
Or were his trust issues clouding his judgement?
She had spoken of trust. If they married and she found out later that he’d withheld this important information…
would she be able to forgive him? He took another drink and admitted to himself that Courtney would never look down on his daughter.
She had such a big heart, and he knew she already looked on Ava-Marie as her soon-to-be daughter.
He sat gazing at the flames in the hearth. Tonight marked the first time in ages that he had a moment to himself to truly reflect on how much his life had transformed.
His daughter would have a life he’d never dreamed of giving her, and once he married and paid off the debts, he’d work his land and investments to ensure his family’s legacy was in good shape for his sons.
He hated how he needed to marry Courtney to achieve his goals, but he would work hard to provide her a life she loved.
He would make her happy and never disappoint her.
Love. What a word. It held such trepidation but also such hope. He thought about Ava and what she’d done to him—to his family. The five years she had stolen from him. But he had to admit they were happy years. He’d been content. And he had Ava-Marie, the love of his life.
“I forgive you, Ava,” he whispered into the silent room. He understood being desperate and that Ava grabbed the opportunity his injury presented. Wasn’t he doing the same with Courtney? The fact she’d loved him and probably still did played in his favor.
He had deep feelings for Courtney, but he’d only known her for a few weeks. His body craved her. He could still remember her scent, her soft skin, her understated sensuality drew him. His possessive instincts rose at the idea of another man making love to her.
She’s mine.
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed ten as Lucien poured himself another brandy.
The amber liquid caught the firelight as he swirled it in his glass, his mind still wrestling with his pending confession to Courtney.
Tomorrow, he resolved. Tomorrow, he would tell her everything about Ava-Marie’s birth.
A sharp knock at the front door echoed through the quiet house, followed by Phillips’ muffled voice in conversation with a visitor. Lucien frowned. It was well past the hour for social calls, and he wasn’t expecting anyone.
The study door opened without announcement, and Phillips appeared, his usually impassive face betraying a hint of discomfort.
“My lord, there is a…woman who insists on seeing you immediately. A Mrs. Bellamy. I informed her of the late hour, but she claims the matter is most urgent.”
“Mrs. Bellamy?” Lucien repeated, the name unfamiliar. “Did she state her business?”
“She said it concerns Baron Lockwood and Lady Courtney, my lord.” Phillips lowered his voice. “She appears to be of…questionable character.”
Lucien straightened, alarm flaring at the mention of Courtney’s name. “Show her in.”
Phillips hesitated only briefly before bowing and withdrawing.
Moments later, an elegant woman swept into the study, her bearing refined despite the late hour.
She was perhaps fifty years of age, with silver threading through dark hair that was still lustrous and expertly arranged.
Her dress of deep burgundy silk was tasteful and well-made, speaking of prosperity rather than ostentation.
Though time had softened her features, the bones of striking beauty remained evident in her high cheekbones and graceful neck.
Her shrewd, intelligent eyes held the wisdom of a woman who had seen much of the world—and learned to navigate its darker corners with both dignity and pragmatism.
“Lord Furoe,” she said, executing a curtsy that managed to be both practiced and inappropriate. “I appreciate you receiving me at this unconventional hour.”
Lucien remained standing, making no move to offer her a seat. “You mentioned Baron Lockwood and Lady Courtney. Explain yourself.”
Mrs. Bellamy gave a knowing smile. “Direct, aren’t you?
I heard you were different since returning from Ireland.
I remember you as a young man. You visited my house often.
You were very skilled at playing the game of social niceties.
” She glanced meaningfully at the chair opposite his.
“This conversation might be better conducted sitting down. Shall we?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Lucien gestured toward the chair. “Speak plainly, Mrs. Bellamy. Who are you, and what connection do you have to Baron Lockwood?”
She settled herself with grace, arranging her skirts before fixing him with a calculating stare. “I run a business—a rather substantial business. The baron, as have most of London’s upper classes, has been a patron for many years.”
“A brothel,” Lucien stated flatly.
“I prefer ‘house of pleasure’,” she corrected, unruffled. “But yes. And in my line of work, information is as valuable as the services we provide.” She leaned forward. “Baron Lockwood has been gathering information about you, my lord. About your time in Ireland.”
Ice formed in Lucien’s veins. “Go on.”
“Through one of my girls, Kitty, he learned certain details about a woman named Ava.” Mrs. Bellamy’s eyes never left his face, watching for his reaction. “Kitty knew her in Dublin, before she relocated to Malahide with a gentleman suffering from memory loss.”
Lucien’s hands tightened on his glass. “And what exactly does Lockwood intend to do with this information?”
“He plans to ruin you,” Mrs. Bellamy said bluntly. “Or rather, to blackmail Lady Courtney into breaking her engagement to you and marrying him instead.”
The glass nearly shattered in Lucien’s grip. “What?”
“He visited Lady Courtney yesterday morning, revealed what he knows about your…unconventional arrangement with Ava, and demanded she accept his proposal or watch as your daughter is branded illegitimate and your family name dragged through the mud.”
Lucien set his glass down carefully, afraid he might crush it in his mounting rage. “That’s impossible. Courtney would have told me immediately.”
Mrs. Bellamy’s laugh held no humor. “Would she? When Lockwood threatened to expose your secret the moment she warned you? When he made it clear that your sisters’ prospects and your daughter’s future would be destroyed if she didn’t comply?
” She shook her head. “No, my lord. Lady Courtney is protecting you, as women often must protect the men they love.”
The realization hit him like a physical blow. Courtney’s sudden headache, her canceled dinner engagement—she wasn’t tired from travel. She could be buying time, trying to handle Lockwood’s threats alone rather than risk him doing something foolish.
“Why are you telling me this?” Lucien demanded, suspicion cutting through his shock. “What’s your stake in this affair?”
Mrs. Bellamy’s expression hardened. “Lockwood promised me a percentage of Lady Courtney’s dowry for the information my girl provided.
A substantial sum that would have allowed me to retire from my current profession.
Instead, through my contacts in Rotton Row, I’ve discovered he intends to cheat me out of my fair share. ”
“So, this is about money,” Lucien said, disgust evident in his voice.
“Isn’t everything?” she countered. “I’ve spent twenty years in a business where I’m scorned by the very men who seek my services. I’ve earned my retirement.”
“And you expect me to pay you instead?”
Mrs. Bellamy shrugged. “I’m a businesswoman, my lord. I’m offering you valuable information in exchange for compensation.”
Lucien crossed to the window, staring out at the darkened garden as he gathered his thoughts. “What exactly does Lockwood know? How detailed is his information?”
“He knows Ava worked in a brothel in Dublin before finding you injured after the rebellion,” Mrs. Bellamy replied. “He knows she claimed to be your wife, when no such marriage record could be found. And therefore, your daughter would, by law, be illegitimate.”
“And your…employee…is willing to publicly confirm these details?”
“Kitty has no loyalty to Lockwood. She liked Ava and wishes to protect your daughter.” Mrs. Bellamy smoothed her skirts. “She was fond of Ava, actually. Feels guilty about betraying her memory. But guilt doesn’t put food on the table.”
Lucien turned back to face her; his expression cold. “What’s to stop me from simply denying everything? It would be my word against your girl’s. An earl’s son.”