Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Damn these bloody rumors and superstitious fools.” Thomas Heathcliff, Marquess of Elington, growled as he flung open the door of his study.
The sound of a merrily roaring fire greeted him, as did the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Thomas was entirely unsurprised to find himself looking into the smiling, but tired-looking face of his cousin, Frederick Felton, Duke of Caverton.
Thomas arched an eyebrow at Frederick. His cousin’s dark hair was a mess, and he self-consciously checked his own black hair. They shared the same blue eyes, though where Frederick’s were full of gentle laughter, Thomas’s were cold and piercing.
His cousin looked up at him from the armchair, his usual boyish grin stretching across his face. It tugged an answering smile from Thomas, despite his irritation.
“You certainly took your time,” Frederick teased.
“I was delayed. Besides, you seem to have made yourself at home.” Thomas gestured to the refreshments spread on the table in front of his cousin. “I trust you have saved something for me.”
“Of course, I am a gentleman after all.” Frederick gestured to the second teacup and the collection of cakes and biscuits. “I even saved you a few custard creams.”
“How kind.” Thomas rolled his eyes and shook his head, even as his lips quirked into a half smile. “I shall forgive you this time, Felty—I know that you need your strength to manage my nieces.”
Thomas thought of his two cousins as his brothers, and when they had both had children, it had felt only natural to refer to them as his nieces and nephews.
“I do indeed,” Frederick agreed. “Which reminds me, are you planning on visiting? I know the girls would love to see their uncle.”
“I will make a point of visiting when I am next in the country, though I fear it will be some time before I leave London.” Thomas kicked his feet onto the footstool and stretched languidly, rubbing at a kink in his neck.
Frederick canted his head toward him, his voice teasing. “Struggling to tear yourself from all the delights the city has to tempt a bachelor like you with?”
Thomas arched an eyebrow at him and let out a sigh. “If only my pursuits were so trivial. No, I find myself tied here for reasons far less enjoyable, but more practical. I have business that needs tending to.”
“You do know what they say about all work and no play, do you not, Elington?” Frederick chuckled. “You have gotten rather serious lately.”
Thomas shrugged. “It is hard not to become serious when you are the last bachelor remaining in our band of three brothers. I need to strengthen my finances and think about the future.”
“Which reminds me, Grandmama asked that I give you this.” His cousin handed him a thick piece of card. “She expects you to be at the ball this Friday.”
“Of course she does.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair as he pictured his grandmother’s kind but determined face, and the latest woman she wished for him to meet.
How many times must I escape her net?
“I have no plans to let her play matchmaker. Besides, I have too much to do and not enough time to do it. Not that my efforts seem to be going very well right now.”
His eyes darkened, and he clenched his jaw as he thought of the frustrating meeting that morning.
Fool of a man.
“I take it your meeting with Lord Haverward did not go well then?” Frederick’s smile faded.
“Hardly. The fool prattled on and on, making excuse after excuse until I finally forced his hand and he told me that he could not do business with a man like me.” Thomas flicked his fingers in irritation.
“What does that mean?” Frederick frowned.
“Like the rest of the ton, the simpleton thinks I am cursed. After all, it can only be a curse that would make my father and grandfather die so young and not a coincidence.” He gestured to himself. “Do I look like a man who is about to drop dead?”
His cousin looked him up and down. “No.”
“Exactly! But the man was convinced that I was a risky investment.” Thomas threw his hands up in the air in frustration, making a disgusted noise as he did. “I am the picture of health and vitality, yet he fears that I am a dead man walking.”
“Well, you did have the physician round last week,” Frederick pointed out. “That is not usually the sort of thing a healthy man does.”
“No, it is not, but given the visit was not for me, his presence seems immaterial.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair, saw his cousin’s dubious expression, and sighed. “One of the maids had been hiding the fact that she was with child for months and delivered the infant partway through dinner.”
“And why would you need a physician for such a thing and not a midwife?” Frederick’s brow furrowed.
“We did not know that this was what was wrong with her. I thought it was some sort of stomach trouble and sent for the physician. By the time we realized that we needed the midwife, it was too late, and the child was already with us.” Thomas bit into a biscuit, his eyes narrowing.
“But of course, that would be far too fantastical for the ton to believe.”
“It is a rather tall story, Elington.” Frederick poured himself another cup of coffee. “You are one of the most observant people I know.”
“Yet I am not omnipotent. And her condition escaped even my housekeeper, Mrs. Bird’s notice.
” He pictured his red-haired housekeeper wringing her hands, the picture of mingled shame and embarrassment.
“The maid was on the heavier side of things, and she took great care to hide her condition. She feared I would sack her if I discovered the truth.”
“Most men would.” Frederick leaned back in his chair. “The scandal of an unmarried pregnant servant is not something many would want attached to their name.”
“I am not most men.” Thomas’s voice was cool, and he forced his shoulders to relax. “Besides, she is not unmarried. Her husband is in the army, and this child is the result of his last period of shore leave.”
“Ah. And she thought she might never see him again?”
“Precisely.” Thomas nodded. “Of course, she cannot continue her duties now that the child has been born, and she has had no word from her husband in months. I have used some of my connections to look into his whereabouts, but in the meantime, I have arranged alternate provision for her and the babe.”
Frederick’s eyes widened. “You realize the ton will probably claim that the child is yours, do you not?”
Thomas gave his cousin a bitter smile. “I would rather that than them believe this curse nonsense. People seem far more unbothered by a child born out of wedlock than the thought that I might depart this Earth at any moment.”
“You and I both know that is not true. You are many things, but you pride yourself on being honorable.” Frederick arched an eyebrow at him.
“A pity that honor seems to matter to the men of the ton less than legacy and title,” Thomas sighed and drummed his fingertips on the arm of his chair.
“It is galling that men shirk from doing business with me because they believe in some silly curse but are happy to enter a deal with a man who has fathered half a dozen children with three different women.”
“Such is the hypocrisy of our time. A man with a wife can be trusted, even if he cares little for the sanctity of his union. A wife means heirs, security, longevity.”
“That she does.” Thomas stroked his chin and nodded. “Even if their union never bears fruit, the fact that it could assuages most fears.”
He felt something click into place in his mind. There was a simple solution to his problems, one which would not require him to produce an heir. All he had to do was make the ton think he could.
“Not least of which is the worry that a young unmarried man might tempt their wives away from the marital bed,” Frederick added.
Thomas nodded. “Then it seems there is little else for me to do.”
“What do you mean? It is not like you to give in to defeat so easily.”
“I am not giving in. If the ton needs to think that I might sire an heir to do business with me, so be it.” Thomas stood and downed his coffee. “I will give Grandmama and the ton exactly what they want: it is time for me to find myself a wife.