Page 81 of Her Impeccable Scoundrel
Proof, Blythe supposed, that no good deed goes unpunished.
A note from Lunetta arrived a few days later. It was a stilted apology and an acceptance of Blythe’s offer to take Maddy into her home as her ward. Only impending death had broken her pride. That and perhaps Thornsby’s unwillingness to take on the child’s care.
“She told me a bit about herself today,” Radley said. “About her people and how she came to be doing that work. The usual sad story.”
“You must write it down,” Blythe said. “When Maddy is older, she may want to know.”
There was another rap at the hall door, and a few minutes later, Mr. Jarrow came bounding into the room. He called a greeting to them and went over to meet the new member of the household and pat Nicholas on the head, and then he said something to a blushing Coralie in a teasing tone.
“Ye gods,” Graeme muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Blythe whispered. “Coralie and I have discussed this.”
He sent her an astonished look and smiled. “She must have a season before?—”
“Yes, yes.” She extended her hand to Jarrow, who was in fact crossing the room to join them.
“I’ll take them all to the nursery,” Radley said, and ushered the children and the baby upstairs where two new nursery maids were waiting. Lady Hermione excused herself and went with them.
“Well, Mr. Jarrow,” Blythe said, “what will your mother say about the new member of my household?”
His smile was rueful. “She will no doubt relish the gossip, but now that matters are settled, I am sure you will see to it that you have the upper hand in our local society.”
Matters were settled? She’d been at home to callers the past two days, hoping to glean some gossip. Unfortunately, though she discovered Diddenton seemed to have more enemies than she’d previously known, no one had any rumors to impart. There’d been a hint in the morning’s newssheets about the Chilcombe matter, but she’d hardly dared to hope, assuming it might just be a story planted by one of Diddenton’s enemies.
“As long as Mrs. Jarrow doesn’t suffer an apoplexy,” Graeme said. “One parent in poor health is enough.”
“What news do you have, sir?” Blythe asked. “You seem rather cheerful.”
He smiled. “Yes, well, I have found a physician—which truly was the primary reason I came to London—and will escort him home with me. We leave in the morning.”
Blythe smiled tightly. “I hope he is able to help your father. Now, Mr. Jarrow. Mr. Morley. Lord Chilcombe.” She fixed each of them in turn with a frown. “I’ve been promised a briefing. Lord Chilcombe has been gone every day before breakfast and hasn’t returned home until long after I’ve retired. All I know of my fate is the precious little that appeared in the newssheets today. And we all know how scurrilous that can be.”
“There’ll be more in tomorrow’s paper,” Graeme said. “Diddenton has, today, formally accepted that a new will could not be found and has withdrawn his challenge to the one executed at the time of your marriage. Not quite without prejudice as he insists that a new one existed.”
“But the old one will stand?”
“Yes.”
She squeezed her eyes shut a moment and let out a long breath. And then remembered. “But his claim to Bluebelle Lodge…”
“He won’t be pursuing it,” Graeme said. “That is a longer story. I wonder… I’m famished. May we tell you over a tray of sandwiches?”
Blythe glanced at the clock. “Shall we call it an early dinner? Since you’ve been gone every night, we’ve resorted to simple fare, but if you gentlemen are willing?—”
“Yes of course,” Graeme said. “You must join us, Jarrow, Morley. Ah, and here is Captain Lynford.”
Blythe greeted her brother and then went to arrange matters with the servants and fetch Hermione from the nursery, stopping only in her bedchamber to drop off the valise with Lunetta’s treasures for Maddy.
Dinner was a less formal affair in the breakfast room. Graeme sent the servants away and he, Morley, and Jarrow, told the tale of the last few days.
Blythe found herself too excited to touch the tender piece of roast that Graeme sliced and put on her plate, until his urgings turned to teasing threats that they would tell her no more unless she took a few mouthfuls. Too exhausted to fight, she chewed woodenly.
The story that unfolded began with events that occurred before she’d ever met Archie or Lord Vernon. The Marquess of Diddenton bore a particular grudge against Archie’s grandfather dating back to the abolishment of the slave trade, which had interfered with Diddenton’s profits from his plantations in the West Indies.
Then, at Cambridge, Archie had befriended the marquess’s third son, who’d died in an accident that the marquess blamed on Archie.
So Diddenton’s antipathy toward the Earl of Chilcombe was firmly established, and he was particularly incensed when his youngest son, Lord Vernon, became fast friends with Archie.
