Page 45 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
Henry chuckled and stepped forward with the letters, handing them to William. He shook his head as he did so, showing he had no intention of doing as William asked.
“It is not my place to address you as such.”
“Are you not friends?” Becca called from across the room, sitting down in a chair with a page of her work in her hand, though she still fidgeted, betraying her need to pace nervously.
“That we are,” William answered fast.
“Why is there an objection to calling him such then?” she asked this question to Henry who smiled softly.
“For I fear if I addressed him by his Christian name, it would become my habit. When he has guests from thetonhere in the future, what would they make of me addressing him in such a way?”
William sighed once more, looking up at Henry from his seat. Once again, his butler was trying to protect him, but he had no need or want of protection.
Perhaps there had been a time where he craved the good opinion of those in theton,where he had thought their approval wasthe one thing that mattered to him the most, but strangely, over the last few weeks, their approval had seemed less and less important.
When he woke up in the mornings, he did not dread the mention of his name in the scandal sheets. Far from it! Instead, he thought of what time Becca would be coming to call and if they would have to work all day or if they could steal a few minutes alone together to explore even more pleasures.
“It does not matter to me, Henry,” William said solemnly. “You are my friend, and I’d rather you address me by my first name.”
Henry’s eyes met his, and there was a new softness in them.
“Maybe someday,” he whispered. “For now, I will keep to the titles. Now, what do you make of your book?” He gestured to the papers in William’s lap. “Has Miss Thornton done a fine job for you?”
“A very fine job indeed.” At William’s praise, she jumped up from her seat. She blushed so much and smiled that William wished to cross toward her, to kiss her, to whisper in her ear how talented she was and how much he admired her. Henry’s presence, however, kept him glued to his seat. “There is just one thing more I wish for in this tale that I feel is not yet there.”
“What is that?” She crossed toward him hurriedly. “If there is anything more you want in the text, Will, tell me, and I shall make it happen.”
William jerked his head around, noting that Henry’s lips had fallen apart. It was the work of just a second to realize why.
She addressed me as Will. What will Henry make of that now?
Yet Henry said nothing.
“We are lifting the lid on my father’s disgraces, a good thing indeed, believe me,” William said, doing his best to move past the now awkward air as Henry continued to stare. “Yet we do not mention this previous marriage at all. This marriage certificate that we found.” He reached into the drawer of his writing bureau and pulled out the yellowing certificate detailing his father’s name besides Miss Sarah Brackley.
“You wish this to be known?” Becca asked cautiously, taking the certificate from him.
“That is a risk, my lord,” Henry said carefully, walking around William to peer at the certificate, too. “Think what secrets you could be revealing.”
“Or I could be revealing none at all if the poor lady is dead.”
“Or the certificate could be fake.” Henry frowned as he looked at the certificate. “Who knows the truth?”
“Exactly,” William spoke with sudden passion and stood, sliding back the chair behind him. “I wish to discover the truth. God damn it, if I am going to reveal to the world everything there is to know about my father, then I need to know what there is to know. Let him be known for every ill thing he did, no matter how bad it was, and…and…Becca, why are you smiling at that?”
She made an attempt to flatten her lips together, though there was still plain humor in her eyes.
“Just admiring you, my lord,” she whispered.
“Admiring?” He blushed, feeling a heat in his cheeks, and was rather glad when Henry pretended to be interested in the certificate in front of him.
William longed to take Becca into his arms, to kiss her again, to escape this horrid world in her arms. He breathed deeply, noting that she did the same, her chest rising and falling. It made him recall the way she had breathed the evening before as he had pleasured her, driving her to that final moment, that climax of athrill. Oh, how she had moaned his name was imprinted on his memory!
“There is perhaps one way we could find out more,” she said, looking away from him and back down at the certificate.
“What is that?” he asked, pulling at his collar and doing his best to stop thinking of her in such a way. Slowly, she took the certificate from Henry’s grasp and ran her finger along the name of the parish.
“The parish of Stockbridge. That’s near Winchester, is it not?” she murmured quietly.
