“I will go with you,” Matthew said.
She ventured a smile. “Now what sort of scandal would that cause? Though I appreciate your offer, we both know you cannot.”
“I am not staying with you,” he pointed out. “I will make other arrangements with my cousin Amelia. She does not live far from you, I believe.”
His offer took her by surprise, and she studied him in the darkness of the carriage. “Why would you do this, Matthew?”
He reached for her hand. “Because you need help. Your sister is married and in Ireland. Your brother has the estates to manage, and this has fallen upon your shoulders.”
He meant it. He truly intended to come with her to Yorkshire, whether she wanted him or not.
“James will accompany us, since Parliament is out of session,” she reminded him. “It isn’t necessary.”
He flicked upon the buttons to her glove, touching her bare palm. “Do you want me to come, Lily?” His voice was low and deep like a caress in the darkness.
Her wayward heart soared, for she could not deny the dormant feelings that continued to rise up. She ought to tell him no, that her family would manage her mother and do what was best.
And yet, she could not stop the whisper. “Yes. I do want you to come with us.”
His thumb slid against her palm, making gentle circles. It felt as if he were touching bare skin everywhere, though it was only beneath her glove. Had her mother not been with them, she believed he would have kissed her.
“Then I will be there with you.”
“I understand you are leaving for Yorkshire.”
Matthew turned at the sound of his cousin’s voice. He was walking toward his London townhouse when he spied Adrian approaching. The man wore a russet striped waistcoat and a black coat with dark trousers. He carried a walking stick with a silver handle, while a sly smile spread over his face.
“I am traveling for a short time,” he agreed. “A fortnight or so.” In fact, he had ordered his servants to begin packing his belongings for the visit. God willing, he would return to announce an engagement between himself and Lily. But he knew his cousin was not here to exchange pleasantries. More likely the man intended to ask for money, given his gaming debts. “What is it you want, Adrian?”
“A question that is best explained over a drink and perhaps a round of cards,” his cousin suggested. “Let us go and talk at White’s. We will toast your good journey.”
Matthew wanted to refuse. He had no desire to spend time with Adrian, especially given the threat of blackmail. His cousinmight try to use that information to his advantage. But Matthew still didn’t know the entire truth.
His own mother had not denied all the facts of the rumors. It felt as if his entire childhood had been a lie, and he didn’t know how to react. Though he doubted if he would lose his inheritance, Adrian could cause a scandal that would destroy his mother. The man was a wastrel who would ruin the family. Matthew could not stand aside and let him do such a thing.
“Well?” his cousin prompted. “Shall we go?”
“Fine.” He followed his cousin along the street, the tension stretching taut within him. The London air was thick with the scent of poverty and unrest. When he passed a group of street urchins, it struck him hard that he could have come from that. He could have been born from anyone, adopted into his parents’ home.
His mother had sworn that Sarah Carlisle was not his mother. But their eyes were the same, as were their features. He had no interest in giving Miss Carlisle a single penny…and yet, she held the answers he needed.
Adrian opened the door to the gentleman’s club and entered the smoky room. Several men greeted them both, and Matthew raised his hand in greeting. His cousin chose a table far away from anyone else and ordered drinks for them.
Once they arrived, Matthew took a drink and sat back, studying his cousin. Why had he never noticed that they looked nothing alike? He resembled no one in his family, not with his dark hair or brown eyes.
Adrian raised his glass. “To your journey, Cousin.”
Matthew did the same, noticing the gleam of interest in the man’s eyes. “Why did you want to speak with me?”
His cousin drained the rum. “I’ve heard a number of stories recently that I find fascinating. In particular, about your mother,Charlotte. Did you know she was barren for over ten years? And then suddenly…you came along.”
He knew precisely what his cousin was implying. But he could not allow Adrian to threaten the only family he had left. Whether or not he was a bastard didn’t matter—what mattered was protecting Arnsbury and his mother.
And so, he parried Adrian’s verbal strike with one of his own. “My father was overjoyed when I was born. He was glad to have a son.”
“Isthat who you truly are?” his cousin said silkily. “Or were you a convenient child, adopted at the right time?”
He leaned forward, making sure Adrian understood him. “My father, the Earl of Arnsbury, acknowledged me as his son to everyone. He never had any doubts of who I was, and I became the earl upon his death.”
