Page 57 of A Secret Consequence for the Viscount
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Nick ate the cheese and figs and swallowed the last of his wine. When he looked at the clock it was just past nine and he knew he could not stay much longer, for more hours of smiling and pretence would simply do him in. His eyes went to the dolls’ house Lucy had played with, the front of the edifice shut now and the dolls inside.
He loved her. He did. He loved his daughter so fiercely that it hurt his heart.
They had all lied to him. That thought was what had kept him rooted to the seat when Eleanor pleaded tiredness and excused herself. Jacob fidgeted in the way he always did when he was worried and Rose looked more and more desperate.
Only Grandmama kept smiling at him, her dark eyes watchful.
‘Your grandmother would be pleased with how you have turned out, Lord Bromley, especially given your antics as a youth after the loss of your parents.’
He inwardly groaned. Was there nothing in this family that was off limits, no notice of that which was awkward or uncomfortable?
‘You knew her well?’ It was all he could think to say to try to divert her attention.
‘Like a sister. We came out together and I was her bridesmaid when she married your grandfather. She was a strong woman just like Eleanor is with her own opinions and certainty.’
He suddenly understood where this was heading. My God, did the whole entire family know what he had not? When he looked across at Jacob he saw the apprehension on his face was reflected in his wife’s.
If Eleanor had not seemed more than a little intoxicated he might have demanded to see her right there and then, but Frank and Ilona Rogerson were patently not in on the family secret and he did not wish to make a fuss in front of them.
So he did the next thing he could think of. He finished off his wine and stood to take his leave, insisting Jacob stay at the table with his cousin and that he would let himself out.
A moment later he signalled to his driver and waited till the Bromley conveyance came to a halt beside him.
‘The town house, please, Thackeray.’
It wasn’t a long drive and as the horses gained speed he leaned back and expelled his breath. He would return in the morning and demand to see Eleanor Huntingdon, that much he was certain of, for she and her brother had lied to him about everything. The implications of that rebounded in his head. How many others knew of Lucy’s parentage? Were they ever going to tell him? Was there some test he needed to pass before they considered him worthy?
A sudden noise caught his attention, the shout of strangers and the stoppage of the horses. Outside Nick saw two men running along the side of the carriage, their faces masked in cloth, weapons in their hands.
He was off his seat before he realised it, opening the door and jumping. He rolled up to a stand, not even feeling the heavy thump of the road in his anger, his arm shooting out and taking one of the hidden faces with his fist. When the man went down the second was already upon him and he felt the crunch of his nose as the man made a wild swing at him, the blood running thickly down the back of his throat.
Turning, he ripped the mask from his attacker’s face. A snub-nosed stranger stared back at him, surprise about the only thing registering before he tore himself away and disappeared into the night, the iron bar he held clanking down on the street. When Nick looked around the other attacker was running, too, for a side alley a few yards up the road.
Panting with exertion, he came down on his haunches, trying to catch a breath, his left arm hurting like hell and his nose feeling painful and swollen. Then Thackeray was there, his voice unsteady.
‘Shall I call somebody, sir.’
Nick stood. ‘No. They have gone. Just take me home.’
