A Dangerous Nativity

Chapter 6, Scene 2

"You've been busy. I rather think you didn't need my help." The Marquess of Glenaire, who had arrived just as Will saw the tutor on his way, sat at his leisure over port.

Thank God he came today before I strangled the rotter and did the same to Stowe, Will thought. The man's hostile glares put him in mind to turn off the butler next. I would if he weren't so blasted old. Better to pension him off, and soon.

"Oh, but I do," he said. "Besides, you'll enliven the winter holidays."

White-blond eyebrows shot up over ice-blue eyes. "I'm hardly one for the sentiments of the season."

"Even your hidebound dignity improves the mood of this place, Richard. It is driving me to drink." He downed another glass, while he poured out his woes to his best friend in the world. "What can you add?" he asked when he his tale wound down.

"Not much. Lord Arthur is, as you surmised, the second son of the seventh duke of Murnane. By reputation, he presented a mild-mannered contrast to his rakehell older brother, when the two came down from university. Lord Arthur actually finished a degree and took a first. He went about during the Season for a few years, sowed a few wild oats—damned few—courted a few chits unenthusiastically, and avoided house parties. He shunned society entirely after his marriage. He supports himself on a meager income from his books."

"That, and a well-run farm. What about his marriage?"

"He wed Miss Mary Harlow, daughter of the Wheatton vicar, in 1801. Their son, Frederick, was born less than a year, but more than nine months, later."

"Catherine?"

Glenaire's sardonic look at Will's use of her given name spoke volumes, but the marquess didn't comment on it. "About Miss Wheatly, if that is her name, I could find little. Her mother departed Wheatton abruptly late in 1788, and came to live with an aunt in a remote village in Scotland, with an infant, soon after. Of marriage or a father, we found no trace. I have people looking into it, but, if there is no paper, they are reduced to listening at keyholes."

"Call them off."

The eyebrows rose.

"We can assume the obvious. No point in causing Catherine embarrassment or upsetting Lord Arthur any further. The man is fiercely protective of her." Will watched the deep purple liquid swirl around in his glass. "It might help to know, however," he murmured.

"To what purpose?" Glenaire asked, knowing eyes boring into him.

Before I take her to wed. He couldn't say the words out loud. Not until he was certain enough of his own feelings to put them to the test. "Something isn't right," he said instead. "Nothing you've said accounts for the animosity. Emery put the fear of God into Sylvia. She seems to believe Catherine—Miss Wheatly—was Emery's mistress."

"Perhaps she was."

"No!"

Glenaire waited with exquisite patience.

"I would bet Chadbourn Park on it. If Emery took Catherine, it wasn't voluntarily. It might account for his determination to keep Charles and Sylvia away, though I just can't see it. What of Songbird Cottage?"

Glenaire leaned forward and put both elbows on the table, cupping his glass. "Songbird Cottage and its acres belong outright to Lord Arthur, left to him by his mother from her settlements. Neither the seventh nor eighth duke had any claim to it."

Will nodded. "Catherine said as much. She said his father resented it."

"Some men would dislike loss of control."

"Isn't that the point of settlements, protecting something for the woman and her children?"

"True, but some begrudge it. Perhaps, the old duke expected it to come directly to him upon marriage. Perhaps Emery felt the same. Is it a nice piece of land?"

"Not large, but tidy and productive. The best."

"There you have it."

"Maybe. There has to be more, and I'm going to find it, for those boys' sake if nothing else. They are a duke's grandsons. The estate owes them better. A gentleman's education, at least."

Long minutes passed. Glenaire watched Will. Will stared at his port until he finally sat back and let a grim smile show. "I think it's time Lord Arthur visits his childhood home."

"From what you have said, he won't come."

"Catherine will persuade him, if only for her brothers' wellbeing. I have her support for that, at least. She hasn't said it, but I know it's there. She'll persuade him." He counted on it.