Page 95 of The Pleasures of Passion
Oh, Lord, she couldn’t breathe. How had he figured out so much? From Papa, perhaps? Did that mean Papa trulywasguilty and was once again turning to his brother for help?
But somehow she couldn’t see her uncle believing any lies Papa might tell about being “framed” for a crime. Unless . . .
Unless Uncle TobyknewPapa wasn’t being “framed,” because he, too, was involved in the scheme.
Her heart stumbled. That made far more sense. Uncle Toby wouldn’t go so far as to risk his own reputation to help Papa. But to keephimselffrom getting caught . . .
“Framing my father for what?” she asked. “Being a terrible gambler is hardly illegal.”
“I don’t want to say until I’m sure, but it’s serious. Something that would . . . send your father to the gallows.”
It took all her meager skills of dissembling to look shocked. “The devil you say!”
“I suspect that Margrave is in league with Baron Fulkham. That’s therealreason Margrave has been courting you. Not because he wants to marry you, but so he can sniff around your father’s friends and . . . pin some nonsense on my brother that Fulkham has cooked up.”
That was a bit too close to the truth for comfort—which made her wonder all the more if Uncle Toby was the real culprit. She couldn’t let on that she knew anything, especially since he refused to tell her exactly what “nonsense” Lord Fulkham had “cooked up.” It was paramount that she play dumb.
Forcing herself to look concerned, she leaned forward. “Are you sure about this? I mean, Lord Margrave and Lord Fulkham have certainly met in society a time or two, but I had no idea that they wereparticularfriends.”
He snorted. “They’re members of the same club, you know. It would give them ample opportunity to hatch their plan to paint your father as a criminal.”
“But why?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m trying to figure out what their game is. All you need to know is that they’re attempting it.”
She stared at him, her mind racing. Somehow she had to find out what had roused his suspicions without revealing her part in everything. More information was more ammunition, and Niall was going to need that.
“I can’t imagine that Lord Margrave would do such a thing,” she said, hoping her uncle would elaborate.
He huffed out a breath. “Look, you are a lovely woman, my dear, whom any man would be lucky to marry. But you said it yourself the last time we spoke—you’re a widow with a son, and your dowry, while attractive, is hardly enough to entice an earl to marry you. Not when he could have any heiress in the city. I tell you, Margrave has an ulterior motive for his attentions to you. And Fulkham is the one providing it to him.”
She shook her head as if unconvinced. “Even if that’s true, what do you suggest I do about it?”
“Break off the engagement, of course. Tell him you don’t like his gambling. That should be enough to convince him.”
“And then I will gain a reputation for being a jilt,” she pointed out.
Her uncle waved his hand dismissively. “A woman as pretty as you can get away with refusing a man for any reason.”
He wasn’t even bothering to make sense anymore.
“Weren’t you just pointing out that I’m a widow with a son and averysmall dowry?” she said dryly. “Jilting an earl is hardly going to enhance my appeal.” When he shot her a suspicious glance, she continued, “I’m just saying that breaking the engagement is sure to have consequences.”
“And letting this man get your father hanged will have consequences as well!” He clenched his hands into fists on his knees. “Surely you don’t want to do anything that would hurt your father.”
“Of course not,” she said.
“Besides, Margrave has no intention of actually marrying you, anyway. Not after he’s proved that your father—” He caught himself most tellingly. “Or rather, has made itlookas if your father is guilty. Why would he marry the daughter of a criminal?”
Because he loves me.
The thought flashed into her mind with such clarity and truth that it shone a light on all her fears about marrying Niall, showing them to be as foolish as he had claimed.
He was trying to uncover the counterfeiters precisely because he wanted to ensure their future happiness, to free himself of Lord Fulkham’s machinations so they could live in peace. He knew that the scandal could damage his own reputation and that of his family, but he didn’t care. He’d offered to save her father if that was what she wanted. He’d even defied Edwin to tell her the truth about the duel, knowing full well he was risking a great deal to trust her with it. What kind of man did that?
A steady one. Who would be there for her . . . and Silas and their children, the way he’d been there for his sister. If she would only let him.
“Are you listening to me, niece?” her uncle asked sharply.
