“As Francis is my nephew,” he continued, “I would see him educated, as befits a member of my family. I see several options.”
“You cannot take him from me,” Mrs. Lewis repeated.
“I would not do as much. I could, however, offer you a post at Addersley Manor, Mrs. Lewis. I cannot guarantee your acceptance among the staff, though it is possible that your fondness for my brother will find you some alliances. It is equally possible that some of my household will disapprove of you bearing a child out of wedlock, even Gerald’s child.”
“She cannot leave Haynesdale Hollow,” her brother protested.
Mrs. Lewis lifted her chin. “I will only live at Addersley Manor as its mistress.”
Joshua blinked in his surprise. He was not about to wed this woman over Gerald’s affair. “That is out of the question, Mrs. Lewis. If you are disinclined to accept a post, that is your choice. I have arranged for an annuity that will pay you regular dividends.” He presented the document but William snatched it from his hand.
“She cannot read,” he said roughly, then opened it to read the details. “It is not sufficient!”
“It is more than I am obligated to provide,” Joshua said, recalling Mr. Newson’s warning all too well.
“You will have your nephew live like a pauper?”
“He will eat and have shelter, if those funds are managed well, and I am prepared to pay for his apprenticeship, should he choose to learn a trade.”
“A trade?” Mrs. Lewis said. “He will be a viscount’s son!”
“Best teach him how to dance,” William said with a guffaw.
Joshua exchanged a glance with Darney. “I thank you for your presence and your patience in this matter,” he said and Darney nodded.
“I have heard the boy say that he would like to become a blacksmith,” the innkeeper said.
“He will be one of the gentry!” Mrs. Lewis insisted, and it was clear to Joshua that the unlikely prospect had seized her thoughts to the exclusion of all others.
He could only continue as if he conversed with sensible people. “If he makes such a choice and the tradesman in question is prepared to take him on, then you have only to send word to me or to Mr. Newson in the village to arrange the details.”
“You should give Alice the money now.”
“And you will take it from me,” Darney said. “I can collect it from you in my public room.”
“Alice owes me!” William insisted. “Who else has seen to her welfare and shelter? Not her fine man, that is for certain. The gentry care only for their own comforts, and not for the results of their deeds.”
Darney clicked his tongue. “I would not be so quick to complain, William, when you have a newfound annuity in your hands.”
“It is not enough,” that man repeated stubbornly.
Mrs. Lewis cupped a hand over her belly. “What of the next one?” she asked. “He will arrive by September.”
“You cannot expect me to provide for all your bastards, Mrs. Lewis.”
“This one is your brother’s get, too,” she said, her eyes a little wild. “I will see provision for the second, as well.”
“That cannot be so, Mrs. Lewis,” Joshua said. “My brother is dead.”
“I will tell everyone that the child is yours!” she threatened, shaking a fist at him. “I will be a viscountess and my children will be raised as gentry, as is right and proper.”
“I regret, Mrs. Lewis, that other obligations do not allow me to linger. I wish you a good day.” Joshua tipped his hat and turned to leave.
“Ice in his veins,” William muttered. “’Tis what they say of him and ’tis all true.”
“On the contrary, William,” Darney said from the threshold. “The gentleman has set a matter to rights by his own volition, with no obligation to do as much. You should thank his lordship.”
“Thank him? For a miserable annuity instead of Alice’s due!”
