Page 107 of The Art of Sinning
So Samuel hadn’t lied about not knowing of his son until he was already in gaol. That was rather surprising.
I know we parted on bad terms, but I don’t like to think of any child of mine being raised in such a place. I’m enclosing documents that should help you get money in another way to keep you and little Elias in a better situation. They prove we were married at the time of his birth.
Blakeborough raised his head to gape at Miss Moreton. “You were married?”
She looked grim. “Keep reading, my lord.”
The forger who made up the papers said they should hold up well enough to convince my brother, and I’m sure your acting abilities are up to the task of playing the long-suffering wife. Forgive me for resorting to such a subterfuge, but Edwin is hard-hearted and unlikely to give you any aid unless he thinks the child is legitimate.
Blakeborough’s voice faltered at that. After a few moments, he set down the letter. “Everything else is personal.” He leafed through the other sheets. “And these must be the supposed documents of a runaway marriage in Scotland.”
“Good God,” Bonnaud muttered. “Your brother is quite a piece of work.”
“Yes, that’s Samuel for you,” Blakeborough said tonelessly.
“But Eliasishis?” Jeremy asked Miss Moreton. “Or you believe him to be?”
“I know him to be,” she said stoutly. “I was a faithful mistress to Samuel when we were together.”
“So you admit you weren’t married to my brother,” the earl said.
Paling a little, she shook her head. “I wrote to him concerning his son a couple of times, but got no answer. I heard later that he’d been cut off by your father, so I suspect he didn’t get the letters.I didn’t know how or where else to find him, and I didn’t want to incur your father’s wrath by presenting myself there. I wasn’t sure he would help anyway. Then once I heard Samuel was in gaol...” She shrugged. “There seemed no point in pursuing anything.”
Jeremy felt compelled to champion the child, if only for Yvette’s sake. “Blakeborough, your brother couldn’t have known Yvette would try delivering the letter in person rather than posting it. So whatever he wrote about the child is probably true. Unless you think he’s playing some double game.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Bonnaud said.
“Nor would I.” Blakeborough glanced over to where a grubby Elias sat on the floor, stacking up a set of worn wooden blocks. “But I have eyes. And, despite what my brother thinks, a heart. I believe he was being honest about his paternity.”
He looked at Miss Moreton and steadied his shoulders. “So, madam, I understand you wish to marry soon.”
And that was that. From there, nothing was left but to negotiate the handing over of the boy. They were done and out the door in a matter of moments, with Blakeborough promising to send a servant to fetch the lad the next morning. He said he needed time to prepare for placing the boy.
On the way home, they were a rather somber threesome. Or rather, the earl was somber; Jeremy and Bonnaud were merely reluctant to intrude upon his silent reflection.
But as they neared the Keane town house, Blakeborough roused himself. “I need to go on to Meredith’s and settle with her if she will take Elias.”
“Do you think she will?” Jeremy asked.
“I believe so. She was grateful when we agreed to provide for her and her babe, and this will be no financial imposition. It will also give her son an older brother. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like Yvette to go with me. She’s better with Meredith than I am. But we’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“That’s fine.” Jeremy gazed at the man, wondering how he’d endured his brother’s shenanigans for so long. “It was good of you to take the child. Yvette will be relieved.”
“Which is why I’m doing it. Theonlyreason I’m doing it.”
Jeremy didn’t believe that one whit. He’d seen Blakeborough’s haunted expression when the man had seen Elias. It made him wonder about the earl’s relationship to his own father. Given what Yvette had said, she probably hadn’t been the only one to feel neglected.
When they stopped, Jeremy told the earl he’d go in and fetch Yvette. Then he and Bonnaud climbed the steps together.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Bonnaud said. “Does this mean no more trips to the stews?”
“I don’t know what it means.” That was the God’s honest truth. “But I suspect that in future my choice of subjects may... er... shift a bit.”
Bonnaud laughed. “No doubt.”
As they entered, it struck Jeremy that the place was unusually quiet. The chatter of four women planning a wedding ought to have raised the rafters, but he heard nothing. Just as he wondered if they’d gone to do some shopping, Yvette appeared in the hall.
He walked toward her. “You’ll be pleased to know that everything went well. Your brother is waiting outside. He wants you to go with him to Meredith’s to arrange for—” He halted as he noticed her swollen eyes and red nose. Alarms clamored in his head. “What’s wrong?”
