Next, he went to the town home she rented in Mayfair, but the staff there insisted she’d gone to Paris.
Georgina didn’t even speak French.
The longer Leo went without being able to find Georgina, the angrier he became. She was clearly hiding from him. So, in an effort to flush her out, he called in Masterson’s markers. But that only succeeded in bringing Harold to his door.
God, he detested Harold.
Harold had begged. Pleaded. Blamed his lack of funds on the American girl his uncle had had the bad fortune to marry. Interesting, considering it was Georgina’s dowry that had kept Masterson’s estate afloat. WhenHaroldfound Georgina, the earl had whined, his debt to Leo would be repaid in full. She was on the Continent, according to her solicitor, because her family wouldn’t welcome her return to America. No doubt Georgina was living extravagantly. Spending the sum in her account she’d coaxed his uncle into giving her which rightfully belonged to Harold.
The fortuneLeohad given Georgina. He’d nearly corrected Harold. Lind had been instructed some time ago to never, under any circumstances, release the sum to anyone but Georgina. Even if Harold or his twit of a wife brought an army of solicitors to Lind’s door.
Leo had waved a hand at Masterson’s nephew in dismissal, giving no hint of his intentions toward the markers or anything else. Harold, besides being greedy, was an idiot.
Georgina wouldnevergo to the Continent, no matter the trail she’d left for Harold to follow or what Lind claimed. Whether Jacob Rutherford would welcome his daughter or not, Georgina would go home. She’d longed for New York the entire time Leo had known her.
When Leo had finally confronted Lind, the solicitor admitted he’d arranged passage for his client, Lady Masterson, to Boston. He’d also added he may have led Lord Masterson to believe she was in Italy. All of which, Mr. Lind insisted, did not violate his agreement with Mr. Murphy.
Mr. Lind had been correct. It had not. Nor had Leo ever specifically stated that Lind was to inform him of Georgina’s whereabouts. An oversight on Leo’s part.
He reached again for the nearly empty decanter. How much scotch, he wondered, would it take to render him unconscious? He plucked up the first page of his father’s letter, forcing himself to reread the words he already knew by heart.
Dear Leo,
I love you.
You have always been my son as much as Anthony. I never saw you any differently, but I know the world has. I could have allowed another man to claim you as his, but I refused. You were my son. My child. I wanted you. I won’t apologize for that though I know it has caused you hardship. I alone am to blame for the tragedy of Katherine’s death. Anthony’s mother did not die because of your existence, Leo. The guilt you carry isn’t yours, but mine.
He’d hated Marcus for making him different. Felt, deep inside, that it was the knowledge of his existence that had led to the death of Tony’s mother. Blamed Marcus every time Leo had been taunted for his birth. For every sneer thrown in his direction. For being spat on at school.For being muck.
True, Leo had loved his father as a child, but after Tony’s mother died, after she and the rest of the world finally saw Leo for what he was, it was Tony who’d deserved his loyalty. Not Marcus. And Tony wanted to punish their father in the worst way possible. Leo had agreed.
“What a rotten human being I am,” he whispered to the room.
I must ask that you take great care of your sisters and Olivia, for they will need your guidance. You are calm and decisive where your brother is not. They will need your patience. Please take great care with my duchess. Amanda loves you as if you were her own, and I fear she will be lost for a time when I am gone.
“Yes,” Leo choked out as moisture gathered behind his eyes. He slammed his palm on the table, relishing the sting of the wood. “Becauseyouare her fucking person, Marcus.”
Remain close to your brother. If there is any bit of good that came from the selfish man I used to be, it is that my mistakes bonded you and Anthony to each other. He will need you now that he is a duke. As will Maggie, especially if Anthony continues to behave like an idiot. Something else I am to blame for and for which I take responsibility.
Tony was amassiveidiot at times.
Leo took up the final page of his father’s letter.
I know of your feeling for Lady Masterson.
Leo scratched at the pain blooming and cresting across his torso. Yes, hisfeeling. What a bland way to describe what Georgina was to him. He both hated and longed for her.
You will find this somewhat amusing, Leo, that I owed a debt to Lord Masterson. You will wonder what it is, but I will only say he did me a great service many years ago. We were not friends. Barely more than acquaintances. But I promised Amanda I would be a better man, so I resolved to repay Masterson the debt which I owed him. I thought it would involve helping him avoid impoverishment, but before I could offer him my assistance, Masterson died. Which is how I came to offer my aid to his widow, should she require it.
The statement never failed to surprise Leo no matter how many times he read the letter. He couldn’t fathom any circumstance in which Masterson could have helped the Duke of Averell. He meant to ask Amanda one day. When she was speaking to him again.
Lady Masterson dismissed my honorable intentions. Then she promptly turned and cast up her accounts into a pot of peonies. Women do not lose their breakfast at the sight of me, Leo.
Arrogant to the last, that was Marcus.
The room tilted slightly, blurring at the edges. Leo gripped the table to keep from toppling over. He really should eat something, but the omelet wasn’t the least bit appetizing. He ought to send Peckham for something more edible.
Lady Masterson was with child. One she refused to claim as Masterson’s either in London or in America, for various reasons.
