Elizabeth pressed her gloved fingertips together. “Yes.”
He turned to look out the window. Light fell freely on his face, burning ethereal fire. “I’ll walk you to the door. Beyond that, I feel you should move like a cat to your bedroom. The hour is late. No one need to know what time you came home.”
Elizabeth spread her hands and then clenched them again.
“Be a cougar, then.”
“You are mad.”
“Madly in love.” He kissed her again. Long and lingeringly. “I’ll work on getting a priest to marry us. We must tread carefully. If anyone gets a hint of what we are about, you’ll be married and sent off to Europe. I will not lose you.”
He kissed her soundly, and then jumped from the carriage, escorting her to the door, his hand firmly on her back. His touch like a brand, the proprietary manner comforting.
If anyone were to see her with him? Oh, how the staff had wagging tongues. Thank God Sullivan opened the door, unusual for him to work the night shift. He acted as if she were the only one there on the doorstep and nothing was untoward about her late appearance.
He swung the door open for her to enter. She turned back to say goodnight to Zachary, but he’d vanished. She looked to Sullivan. He put his finger to his mouth.
“I know nothing. I see nothing. As far as I know, you arrived home before ten.”
Elizabeth melted from his words, hugged him, and then rushed up the stairs to her bedroom.
Chapter Forty
Rawlins Dyer removed his top hat and swept into his friend’s office. He had an agenda to complete. He’d not fail.
“This is a surprise, Rawlins.” Edward gestured for the oil baron to have a seat.
“I’ll stand, for what I must say has great and timely importance.”
Edward blinked. “Who?”
“It is unfortunate to be the bearer of bad news. Elizabeth, your daughter, has been carrying on with Zachary Rourke,” he spat. “There is an accounting of her coming in and out of his offices during the day–and at night. I didn’t believe it at first, but had one of my men follow her in the past week to convince me of the truth. Her promiscuous activities are documented in this rag.” He tossed a newspaper on Edward’s desk.
Edward closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked at Dyer without saying a word, seeming to have aged five years in a few seconds.
“I rushed to inform you that newsboys are hawking Elizabeth’s indiscretions as we speak. Passing patrons are tipping more for the bold black headlines of the tabloids. I’ve reduced their number by having my men buy up as many copiesas possible–and, otherwise, convincing the rest not to sell.” “Otherwise” being a latent hint that his men would beat them to a pulp and smash their presses.
“There is more,” confessed Dyer, satisfied his hard work to make Elizabeth appear like a whore ensured the desired effect on her father.
“What more can there be?” Edward shook his head. “The scandal will black mark my family forever.”
“Firing through New York is word of Elizabeth’s illegitimate daughter she visits at the Fitzgerald Orphanage. I’m using my control to stop the bigger papers. Perhaps you can halt the newspapers under your influence.”
Spencer scrutinized the headlines. “I can’t believe it. Anyone but Elizabeth. I have trusted my daughter and given her too much freedom. Why didn’t I listen to Alva and curb her activities long ago?”
For a spilt-second, Edward’s breathing suspended. “All of this right beneath my nose? Elizabeth’s daughter? I thought the child was—never mind.”
“Her daughter is six years old. That would put the child’s birth about the time Elizabeth had gone on her European tour seven years ago.”
“How clever of her to conceal the child,” Spencer raged.
Dyer inwardly smiled and laid more kindling on the fire. “The news has become even more salacious. In the wake of the totality of the shocking news, the duke has cried off in a public manner and is packing with his family to go back to England.”
“What the hell am I going to do?” Spencer gave a rough, unbelieving laugh.
Careful, Rawlins. Play your cards right and you’ll have Elizabeth in your grasp. Dyer took a long, drawn-out breath. “I have a solution that will quell everything.”
Edward pounded his fist on the desk. “Impossible. This is a mess beyond repair.”
