Page 74 of Her Impeccable Scoundrel
Anger rose in her and an overwhelming sense of betrayal.
She managed a nod. “I’ll go and get that letter.”
When she tried to pull away, he gripped her hands more firmly.
“Show me again how to open the panel, please.” He freed a hand and stroked her cheek. “Morley will not be a problem, my love. Jarrow, though, is a magistrate and may feel honor-bound. If he asks any difficult questions, I will answer for you, if you will allow it.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed them shut against the unwanted moisture.
“I won’t have you lie for me, Graeme. I will answer for myself. Just promise me...” She struggled for words, choking. “The children.”
“Blythe.” She found herself pressed against his shoulder, the uncontrollable shaking she’d experienced that morning threatening. “I’ll take care of the children. I’ll take care of you. No matter if you refuse to marry me. No matter if I never have you in my bed. You have my love and my loyalty. Always. Forever.”
As the astonishing words poured over her, she held very still, soaking in the warmth of him, the solidness of him until her heart and body stopped quaking.
Love and loyalty. Love was precious, often short-lived, and easy enough to be counterfeited. But loyalty—oh, that was a priceless treasure. That was something she yearned for.
She stiffened her spine. Graeme barely knew her. Time would tell if he would give her his loyalty, and if love could last.
She pulled away and patted his chest. “I’ll only hold you to the promise to take care of the children. Now, let me show you again how to operate the panel, and then I’ll go and fetch that other letter.”
Graeme insisted on following her to her bedchamber so that he could escort her into the meeting.
Morley and Jarrow rose when she entered and offered her one of the more comfortable overstuffed wing chairs. She declined and took a seat on a straight-backed chair that Graeme brought over for her. He pulled another chair close to hers, offering her a support she dearly appreciated.
She wouldn’t lie today, though she firmly intended to dance around the truth until she had to drop from exhaustion. She’d had so much practice at that in her marriage.
Graeme nodded to her and began the meeting. “I told Lady Chilcombe what I learned at our gathering this morning, though it was a mere summary. What I didn’t discover was how you, Jarrow and Morley, came to both be in attendance with Mr. Fleming, my solicitor.”
“I wasn’t being deceptive when I left here this morning,” Jarrow said. “I paid an early call at White’s to see who might have recommendations for physicians. As it happens, I ran into Ashley and Wellington and Sir William. The meeting this morning was hastily arranged. Morley happened along and joined us. We all agreed it was advisable to move the matter to another locale where Lord Vernon had fewer—or no—acquaintances. Morley also thought to invite Fleming, who he’d spoken with just that morning. And of course you needed to be included, Chilcombe. Sir William knew you would respond to an urgent request on his letterhead.”
“Which just proves,” Morley said, “that even when it comes to government matters things can be done quickly at times.”
“Lord Ashley is keen to go after Diddenton,” Jarrow said. “Word is he’ll find a pocket borough and take a seat in the Commons at the next election. Woe betide Diddenton and others of his ilk when Ashley inherits the earldom.”
The three men recounted the discussion from the meeting while Blythe held her tongue and listened silently.
In truth, she was glad she hadn’t been present and subject to their scrutiny. This was bad enough.
When they were finished, she glanced at Graeme and nodded. “You will want to see this letter,” she said, handing over the money demand she’d received from Lunetta. Graeme had read it before leaving her bedchamber, a frown on his face.
Now, he adjusted his face to conceal his emotions, but he watched Mr. Morley and Mr. Jarrow carefully as they took turns reading.
“Who is Maddy?” Mr. Morley asked.
“A maid molested while in service at Wickworth Hall after it was purchased by Diddenton, and cast out after she was found to be increasing.”
“Ah.”
“She died in childbirth at Bluebelle Lodge. Nicholas is her son.”
“Miss Casale knew you were looking for her,” Mr. Jarrow observed. “Had you made contact before?”
“No. I had a boy ask around about her at the sort of establishments where one might expect to find her, places that I myself could not risk visiting. He was, of course, unsuccessful. I suppose word was passed on to her.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“The day my late husband, died. The servants summoned me to Risley Manor because his time was near. Your father, Mr. Jarrow, was in attendance, along with the doctor. They removed Lunetta from the room and allowed me to stay.”
