Page 104 of Ne'er Duke Well
“Yes.”
It was a perfectly dazzling, perfectlyPetersort of plan. No subterfuge or secrets. Everything out in the open, a kind of reckless honesty. She would take responsibility for Belvoir’s. Her library would behers, finally, after all this time. Everyone would know it. And everyone would know too about the Venus catalog—and perhaps, out of fear for their own reputations, they would not condemn her for it.
If this plan failed, it would fail spectacularly. They would be banished from every drawing room in London. Peter’s political career would be in shambles; even the most open-minded members of Parliament would hesitate to work with him.
If it failed, they would not get the children.
But they might succeed. This was, perhaps, the only way they might succeed.
“I must go to Belvoir’s,” she said, rising. “I must see if the Eldons are on the rolls. I do not mean to blackmail them, Peter”—she’d caught the way his eyebrows had risen—“but I must know whether they are aware of the catalog. I think… oh, I think Lady Eldon is on our side. But I do not know if this plan will tip her toward us, or away.”
Before she could leave the room, he caught her about the waist. “Don’t be afraid,” he said.
“I am, Peter. I’m terrified.” His arms tightened, pulling her into him, and she went willingly. “But it’s…” She fought for the words. “It’s good. Not to be alone.”
“Never,” he said, his warm breath ruffling her hair. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Chapter 27
Dear Selina—I think it an excellent plan. I wish I were there to help you see it through. Things grow tense here in Brussels—no more for now. Be brave! (Not that you need any encouragement on that front.)
—from Will to Selina, posted hastily before the regiment’s departure
The next morning, she stood in the front drawing room at Rowland House, sick with dread.
Peter had offered to come with her—as he’d come with her to Belvoir’s the night before—but she’d declined. “I want to do this myself,” she’d told him. Sheneededto do it herself. It was a penance, she supposed, for lying to her family these last two years. For not trusting them. And if they cast her out onto the front step—if Daphne said she could not let Selina be around the boys any longer—well. Selina could understand that. But she did not want Peter to see.
They came into the drawing room in a whirlwind of chatter.Aunt Judith was speaking sternly to Nicholas, who appeared to be hiding slightly behind his wife. Thomasin dimpled at Aunt Judith, holding out her hand to the other woman as though inviting her to dance. The love and partnership between them glowed as bright as the afternoon.
All of her family. All of them but Will, and Selina felt his absence like a wound.
“Selina, there you are,” Daphne said. Her chestnut curls were slightly more tamed than usual, and she smiled broadly at Selina. “We think Teddy has been missing Lu. He’s been unusually fussy, and we’re pretty sure he keeps saying ‘poke stick.’”
“Rapier, I rather think he means,” Nicholas put in.
Selina bit down hard on her lower lip. “I’ll bring her next time.”
“Is something the matter, darling girl?” This was Thomasin—always Thomasin, gentle and serene. “Let me pour you a cup of tea.”
Thomasin served them all as Selina gathered her courage. She seated herself on the blue chintz settee and wrapped her fingers around her steaming cup.
“Before the guardianship hearing,” she said, “there is something I would like to tell all of you. It has to do with Will—and me—and something we did together two years ago, which I have been carrying on in his absence.”
No one spoke. They watched her patiently, her family.
Please, she thought.Please don’t be ashamed of me.
With a shaky indrawn breath, she told them about Belvoir’s. She told them about Ivy Price, and the Venus catalog, and the house she and Will had bought for Ivy and her son. She told them about the Earl of Alverthorpe and Peter’s audacious plan.
She didn’t tell them about Georgiana’s novels. She trusted them implicitly, but that wasn’t her information to reveal.
And she didn’t cry. It was easier this time, after telling Peter and Lydia. The story of Belvoir’s was no longer a private thing, between herself and her twin. It was simply a fact, out in the world now with the Cleeves and Lydia’s lady’s maid and all those emerald-green books.
And now they knew.
There was a pause when she was done speaking, as though they all waited to see if she had more to say. No one looked at one another, and for some reason Selina took pride in that. They were not the kind of people whose reactions depended upon the judgments of others.
“Well,” said Nicholas, “that explains a great deal.”
