“Thank you, Lord Yardley.” Owen kept his tone neutral. “Was there something specific you wanted to discuss?”
“Direct as always.” Yardley chuckled. “Actually, I thought you should know. Ran into Richmond at the club last night. He was asking rather pointed questions.”
Owen’s grip tightened on his quill. “What sort of questions?”
“Oh, the usual gossip. When exactly the child was born, if anyone had visited during the Duchess’s confinement. That sort of thing.” Yardley leaned forward conspiratorially. “He seemed particularly interested in whether you’d been seen traveling to Carridan Hall during those months.”
“And what did you tell him?” Owen asked while narrowing his eyes.
“Nothing! Well, nothing useful. I said I assumed you visited your wife regularly, as any devoted husband would. Private matters and all of that.” Yardley’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “But between us, Your Grace, it did seem odd. No one in London saw hide or hair of the Duchess, but she was seen in country events around Carridan.”
Owen put down his quill with deliberate care. “During her pregnancy, my wife’s health was fragile. We kept her confinement private as per the doctor’s orders. She was able to go out and about only after the birth.”
“Of course, of course. Very proper.” But Yardley’s expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Still, Richmond seemed quite determined to piece together a timeline. Made me wonder what his aim was.”
“Perhaps he should find better uses for his time than gossiping about other men’s wives.” Owen said icily. “A gentleman doesn’t speculate about such delicate matters.”
Yardley had the grace to flush. “No offense meant, Your Grace. Just thought you should know.”
“I appreciate the information.” Owen stood up, signaling the meeting was over. “But I trust this conversation will go no further. My family’s privacy is not a subject for club room discussion.”
“Naturally! Wouldn’t dream of it.” Yardley scrambled to his feet. “Lovely to see you. Give my regards to the Duchess.”
After he left, Owen stood at his window, thinking.
So, Jasper was actively investigating, trying to find holes in their story. The timeline was their weakest point. Nine months existed when Owen had been firmly in London and was never once seen traveling to Carridan Hall.
He needed to act. Fabricate evidence of visits that had never happened. Letters dated from Carridan Hall, perhaps. Witnesses who could be persuaded to remember seeing him there.
Or he needed to find out what Jasper suspected and why he cared so much about a baby who shouldn’t concern him.
Owen returned to his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. He had contacts in the less reputable parts of London. Men who specialized in finding information others wanted to keep hidden. It was time to learn more about what the new Duke of Richmond had been doing in the months before Nicholas died.
And perhaps, while he was at it, Owen could begin the search for Adele. Carefully, quietly, he would find her without alerting Jasper to another avenue of investigation.
The game was becoming more complex. But Owen had spent years learning to play with stakes this high. He wouldn’t fail now.
Not when Evie’s future depended on it.
He sealed the letter and rang for Peters. There was much to be done, and time was not on their side. But as he handed over the correspondence, he thought of Iris sleeping on the edge of her bed, ready to run at a moment’s notice.
Perhaps it was time to give her something to run toward, instead of away from.
Perhaps it was time to start building the family they pretended to be.
CHAPTER 15
“Your Grace, I’m afraid Mrs. Pemberton has been taken ill.”
Iris looked up from her morning tea to find Sally wringing her hands in the doorway. From the nursery above, Evie’s cries were already beginning to escalate.
“Ill? What’s wrong with her?”
“Fever, Your Grace. The doctor says she needs rest. She won’t be able to help with Lady Evangeline for several days, at least.”
The crying grew louder. Iris set down her cup with more force than necessary sending tea sloshing onto the saucer.
“This is my fault,” she whispered. “I’ve been relying on her too much. I’ve had her up at all hours, helping with Evie because I couldn’t find a suitable nurse.”
