Just when I was so close to finding you...
“You have featured more than I have,” Alexander said, referencing the sheets. “Tell me how a man should navigate this situation to bring it quickly to term.”
Bastian looked like he was about to laugh, before thinking better of it. “Our exposés are hardly comparable. They have only written that I was a jilted lover, making me look quite sympathetic. The story of you is of an entirely different nature. You would be a fool to believe that thetonwill quickly lose interest in this tale, considering Miss Pembroke’s situation and her recent betrothal. They will hang onto this until Miss Pembroke is married at least.”
“Married to Lord Faversham?”
“Well, yes. Assuming he still wishes to marry her after he learns of her would-be ruin.”
“And if he does not?”
Bastian looked at him sympathetically – an idea glimmering in his hopelessly romantic eye.
“Now you have lost your mind,” Alexander protested.
“It is something to consider,” Bastian said. “But I would keep my distance for now. Allow the shock of the scandal to dissipate on its own. Do not go to Miss Pembroke. Do not add fuel to the fire.”
Alexander looked down at the pocket watch on his desk. He might have agreed, once, but the seconds were ticking by...
And his once indefatigable patience had all but run out.
CHAPTER 9
“What do you mean, the Duke of Langley is here? The same Duke of Langley who... who has...” Katherine choked on her own question, putting a hand over her mouth as she fell back into a dining chair. “Impossible...”
Margaret digested the news painfully. When she dared another look at her mother, she couldn’t tell whether Katherine was smiling or frowning behind her hand. The uncertainty made her want to faint. She relished the thought of slipping into that dark and unconscious place, where she wouldn’t have to come face to face with the duke again, where she wouldn’t be subjected to her mother’s Machiavellian scheming...
Scheming which was unavoidable now that a duke was in play.
“How can he be here?” Margaret asked, her head swimming. “He was in Wiltshire not days ago and made no mention of coming to Lon?—”
She cut herself off too late. Baron Faversham and her mother gawked at her, having just been given proof that at least some of Margaret’s protestations had been lies. Her mother sighed quietly at her indiscretion, rubbing her temples.
“Just send the man away,” Lord Faversham said, using the table for support. “You will not speak to him, Miss Pembroke. That is an order. You have cast shame on me once. You will not shame me twice by accepting him into this house!”
“My Lord, please,” Katherine said.
“Viscountess, I will not be persuaded otherwise. Command your daughter to obey me.”
Margaret scowled, turning slowly to meet Lord Faversham’s demanding face. What right did he have to order her to do anything? They weren’t married yet, and after what had been revealed, it became less certain that they ever would.
“It would be more shameful to turn His Grace away. He will already have been seen coming,” Margaret said to her mother, ignoring Baron Faversham. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried far enough. “Mama, please. He will not have come here out of malice. He is a victim of the press as much as I am. We must hear what he has to say.”
“Miss Pembroke, I told you no. You will not speak to the duke on this day, or ever,” Baron Faversham snapped, rising further out of his chair before his body gave way. He wheezed from the exertion, face red with his anger, a withered hand curling aroundthe tablecloth. “Tread carefully, Miss Pembroke. Your actions betray your partiality to the scoundrel. Defend him again, and I will know what you are.”
Margaret glanced at her mother, pleading for her support. Katherine gave a long, knowing look, colored with indignation. Regardless of Katherine’s feelings, she would not stand for Baron Faversham accusing her daughter of misconduct.
“My daughter is right, My Lord. It will do us no good to ignore the Duke of Langley now that he has come. If Margaret claims that she is innocent, we should believe her and admit the duke. A guilty man would not present himself so readily at the house of his accomplice.” She rose with determination. “All parties must work together in this trying time. Pray, forgive such dissent, My Lord. On this matter, I stand with my daughter.”
“You are a foolish woman. Both of you, fools." Baron Faversham pointed a finger at Margaret. “But I will not be cast out for the fact of reeling him in.”
“Certainly not,” Katherine said. “You are within your right to remain and let your thoughts be known, My Lord.”
Margaret chose not to question her mother’s motives. By that time, the baron looked too weary to argue. He may not have valued Margaret past her womb, but he obviously still retained a modicum of respect for Katherine – or else he intended to remain to protect his pride.
“We will accord His Grace five minutes. Please see him in, Mr. Rathbone,” Katherine told the butler. “After which, you will ensure that Eliza remains upstairs.”
The butler gave a modest nod as he retraced his steps.
