Chapter 3 #2
“Right. Anyway, once he was notified, the will Father had on record was the one they used, and it gave Yates complete control over their money and their persons. But I fear that my bachelor cousin accepted—and continues to fight me for custody—because he wishes to make use of their income for his own purposes. Why else would he agree to be the guardian of three boys he’d only seen a handful of times in his life? ”
“It is odd, I suppose.” And why would his father have done such a thing to them?
“They belong with me!” When she winced at his raised voice, he said, more calmly, “It’s possible to have a guardian who’s only in charge of their persons, who feeds and clothes and educates them.
My attorney thinks that is the first step in gaining full custody—to convince the court that I should at least be their guardian of nurture.
It’s the same guardianship Mother had until she died, since women aren’t allowed to handle financial matters for their children. ”
She frowned. “Unfortunately, France also thinks women cannot do such things.” That was how she had ended up under her uncle’s thumb before she had run away to Verdun.
“So, if I want to prove that the boys’ income is being siphoned off by Yates, I need to have them with me. That way I can question them about what’s going on and be sure they’re safe if things get ugly.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she said.
“That’s why I need you. And this could work for both of us. I solve your problem; you solve mine. Everyone walks away with what they want.”
She was not fully convinced of that. “But will not the court remove custody of your brothers once we end our betrothal? Truly, I shall not go so far as to marry you, my lord.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, you won’t have to marry me,” he grumbled. “Once I expose my cousin’s treachery, the courts won’t care if you jilt me. They do not look kindly upon financial misconduct in a guardian. Proving my cousin’s guilt is the one way to ensure they give me full and permanent custody.”
Something worrisome occurred to her. “You do not have designs on their property yourself, do you?”
Outrage filled his features. “Now you’re deliberately insulting me,” he bit out. “What kind of scoundrel do you think I am?”
She tipped up her chin. “I am not sure what kind of scoundrel you are. That is what I am trying to determine.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “If you were a man, Miss Bernard, I would call you out for that. I should hope you would know my true character by now.”
Clearly, he meant that. And if she were being fair, she had to admit she had always thought him honorable in most things. She simply was not sure how honorable he was toward women.
With some effort, she softened her tone. “And you should know that when a woman is involved, men have a habit of hiding their real intentions.”
He searched her face, then took a deep breath. “I suppose that’s true. But I swear to you on my honor as a gentleman that my intentions are pure, both toward my brothers and toward you.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
He broke it first. “Just out of curiosity, why wouldn’t you wish to marry me? If I were offering for you, I mean.”
Because I have no desire to be chained to a rich rogue with a roving eye the way Maman was. And because I have been around Tory enough to know what is expected of a titled Englishwoman.
As a third son, Tory’s husband had spent nearly half his adult life with Giselle’s scholarly real father, so he was comfortable with both aristocracy and gentry. Even Captain Scovell, a marquess’s son, though not the heir, was still a naval officer and spent plenty of time with lower-class sailors.
Lord Heathbrook, on the other hand, was raised to be an earl. No doubt he had rigid expectations for a wife.
But she said none of that. He did not wish to marry her, after all.
“Maman requires so much of my attention that it would be unfair to a husband. And only think what would happen if the press heard of my true status as an Englishman’s by-blow?
I would never wish to drag you and your family through such a scandal, not to mention my own family. ”
He arched an eyebrow. “Jon and Tory would never reveal it, and Scovell and I take our vow of silence on the subject quite seriously. So, the press will never hear of it.”
“Perhaps not.” She eyed him closely. “But you still have not answered my question, sir. Why are you not ‘looking for a wife’? I thought all English nobles wish to sire heirs as soon as possible.”
“And spares, yes,” he said dryly. “I mean to do that eventually myself. But right now, as with you and your mother, my brothers need me, and I must focus on regaining their birthright for them.”
She was sure there was more to it than that, but considering she was keeping her own secrets, she should allow him to keep his. “Very well. So, assuming I agree to your absurd arrangement, how would it work exactly?”
He looked relieved by her half capitulation. “First, we would have to make sure Society knows of our engagement.”
“No,” she said firmly. “First, you must speak to Mr. Beasley and the government.”
“Right,” he said, and ran a hand through his gorgeous hair. “I’ll have to show Beasley the sketch. He may even know whom I should consult about getting proper papers. I’m sure he didn’t forge his own passport—that would have been foolish for an accomplished engraver.”
“True.”
“And speaking to the government about acquiring papers for the two of you will go easier when I say you are my fiancée.”
“That sounds very wise.” And she was relieved he was indeed planning to do his part of the bargain.
“After that, we should attend some Society functions to establish you as my betrothed.” He paced the Aubusson rug.
“Most people have gone to their estates in the country for hunting season, but I, for one, am not fond of shooting. So, if we can find the best London event to attend, we can unveil our betrothal to the world.”
“ ‘Unveil’ is a good word for it, my lord. Because this betrothal will definitely be a painted likeness of an engagement.”
He grinned. “A masterpiece, if I have anything to say about it.” Hurrying over to his desk, he began sifting through a stack of envelopes.
“Now, let me see what invitations I currently have. A dinner at the Huntleys . . .” He set the ornately inked card aside.
“Too small. It would take forever for the gossip to get around.”
In much the same way, he went through the other varied shapes of cream-colored invitations, sparing only a glance for each, muttering such things as “not enough gossips will be there,” “none of the younger set,” “too many blackguards,” “too few women,” and so on.
She had begun to think nothing would meet his peculiar requirements, when he came to an invitation larger than the others.
“Aha!” he cried, waving the card. “A party connected with the Lord Mayor’s Show. Perfect. Not usually something my father or I went to, but ideal for you and me and our purposes.”
“Is the Lord Mayor’s Show a play?” she asked.
“More like a parade. Combined with a feast and a boat ride and pageantry . . . It has a little of everything. It’s when the new Lord Mayor of London travels by boat from the Guildhall to Westminster to swear his allegiance to the crown.
Then he returns in a procession through the city and holds a lavish dinner at Mansion House for various important people. ”
“So, it’s a ceremonial event?”
He chuckled. “Not exactly. There are costumes and tradesmen in their regalia, elaborate carriages and drummers and trumpeters . . . It’s rather a mad procession, full of spectacle.
” He shook his head. “I loved it as a boy. Father hated it. Too much noise, too many people . . . It wasn’t to his preference. ”
“Still, it sounds very entertaining.”
“And you sound surprised,” he drawled.
She shrugged. “I often think of the English as . . . well . . . a bit dour and rigide. Rather like your father was.”
“Yes, Father was definitely hidebound,” he said, a trace of resentment in his voice, “as much as or more so than your own father.”
That reminder of her secret illegitimacy made her wince. “I suppose the old earl would have disapproved of me as your fiancée. My stepfather was in trade, after all. And if he’d known of my bastardy—”
“He wouldn’t. Because I wouldn’t have told him.”
“Because you would have been too ashamed.”
He snorted. “Because his opinion stopped mattering to me even before he died.”
“Then why would you not have told him?”
“Because I suspect that you care.” When that statement softened her heart, he added, in a colder voice, “Fortunately, my father no longer gets a voice in what I do and whom I marry, anyway.” When she stiffened, he added hastily, “That is, who I engage myself to.”
He forced a smile. “In any case, a party for the Lord Mayor’s Show is the perfect place to introduce you to my London acquaintances. And half of the city will be in the streets observing the spectacle.”
She blinked. “You do not mean to introduce me to half of the city, do you?”
“Of course.” When she muttered a French curse, he laughed. “Relax. To do that, we’d have to spend our whole lives at the Lord Mayor’s Show. It’s long, but not that long.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ll merely introduce you to a few hundred or so Londoners.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “How am I to trust a word you say when you are so often joking?”
He sobered. “Don’t worry about the introductions. I’ll be at your side every moment. I mean that.”
“Still, I do worry. Do you think Lewis Nash will be at this party?”
“It’s unlikely, but I hope so. Then you can point him out to me, and I can have a word with the fellow.”
“There, in public? I do not like the sound of that. What if he tries to fight you?”
“Then I’ll fight him back.” When she frowned at him, he reached out to pat her shoulder. “Do not fret. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise.” His smile faded. “Too much is at stake for that.”