Page 9 of The Baron's Return
“What happened that night no longer matters. Nothing we do or say now can change it. You wouldn’t believe anything I have to say.”
“No, I wouldn’t. So then tell me, Lady Holbrook.” She winced at the use of her title and he continued. “Why am I here? If you’re curious about how I’ve improved in the bedchamber, I’m sure I have an hour to spare before I move on to more important things.”
She straightened her shoulders, unfazed by his attempts to wound her with his casual dismissal. “We have a daughter.” Her words were rushed.
“Surely one of the servants can look after your daughter. It’s too bad you couldn’t provide the old man with a son. Then you’d be at your estate right now instead of in this much smaller house.” He leaned forward. “I know that Holbrook banished you from the estate to one of his smaller holdings. So tell me, was the sacrifice worth it? Did you gain everything you’d hoped for?”
Her breathing was shallow as she shook her head. “You mistake me. I don’t mean that Holbrook and I have a daughter. I mean that you and I have one.”
Silence descended as he found himself incapable of speech. She couldn’t mean… No. His mind shied away from that possibility. Her child wasn’t his. She was hoping to gain something from him with this lie. Money, no doubt, since he’d discovered she had very little of her own.
He stood, not caring that it was rude to do so first. “This meeting is over. I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I don’t believe you.”
He turned to leave, cold fury washing over his body.
“Gideon—”
He whipped around to face her. “No!”
She froze, tears now streaming down her face.
“You lost the right to call me that years ago. I am Baron Cranston now. The boy you could so easily manipulate in the past died the day you called him a fool for thinking he was good enough to marry you.”
This time he made it all the way to the hallway when he was forced to stop. The front door opened and two people entered. A young girl and an older woman who was likely her governess.
The girl was laughing at something the woman said, and then she turned and looked at him.
The world stopped, and the only sound he could hear was the roar of his own blood in his ears.
The girl dipped into a circumspect curtsy before smiling up at him. “You have green eyes just like me.”
He was staring down into a pair of pale green eyes that were identical to his own. And he realized then that Abigail hadn’t been lying. No, this child was his. The same dark hair, the same eyes.
He turned to stare at Abigail, who called her daughter—no, their daughter—to her side and dismissed the governess with a small nod toward the stairs.
He had to get out of there. His thoughts were a jumble, and a tight ache had lodged in his chest. He’d thought he’d already suffered loss but knowing that the woman he’d once loved had chosen to raise his daughter as another’s was a pain beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
He fled from the house, unable to deal with this latest betrayal.
His daughter’s words floated after him as he bounded down the three steps to the street. “Did I say something wrong, Mama?”
Chapter 7
Cranston considered going to his empty town house and drowning himself in spirits until he could no longer think. Could no longer hurt.
Instead, he told his driver to take him to Mayfair. Ashford had already left that morning on his wedding trip with his new bride. And even if he hadn’t, Cranston wouldn’t impose on the couple during this special time.
But the Marquess of Lowenbrock was staying in London for now. His wife was with child and wasn’t well enough to endure the long carriage ride back to their estate in Yorkshire.
The news of Amelia expecting hadn’t really come as a surprise to Cranston. It seemed he was fated to be surrounded by happily married couples while his own life continued to grow bleaker.
He was a regular guest at the house, and the butler admitted him without the formality of announcing his visit. He told Cranston that he would find Lowenbrock in the study.
“And Lady Lowenbrock?” he asked. The last thing he needed today was to walk into his friend’s study and find the two of them in an embrace. Or worse.
“Her ladyship is resting. Should I ask a maid to inform her of your arrival?”
With a shake of his head, he thanked the man and made his way down the hall. He rapped on the study door and entered when John called out.
