‘Obviously with what has happened, he may withdraw his interest. However, I am not without influence, and I am fairly certain I could persuade the good Viscount that to align himself with me and mine would be very beneficial to him…’ He paused and raised his eyebrows at the look of sheer horror on Chastity’s face, before adding drily, ‘Or if not him, a suitable gentleman here in town, perhaps one with a minor title who, with appropriate recompense, might be prepared to overlook your … indiscretions.’
‘Bribe him you mean?’ Chastity couldn’t stifle the bitterness in her voice.
‘If you wish to call it that,’ Nicholas responded, his voice cool. ‘I do not make the rules, Chastity, and I concur with my wife that most of them are almost farcical, which is why I choose to spend most of my time at Blackmore, well away from the absurdness of Society.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘But that does not mean I can entirely disregard Society’s requirements. Not if I wish to continue to provide for my family and everyone else who depends on me to put a roof over their head and food on their table.’
Chastity opened her mouth, then shut it again, swallowing her ire. She knew full well just how lucky her family had been when the Duke of Blackmore chose Grace as his bride. Closing her eyes, she pushed aside all notions of girlish romance as she endeavoured to decide which would be the most sensible course of action.
However, no matter how practical she endeavoured to be, she simply could not countenance the idea of being married to Viscount Trebworthy. The very idea made her shudder. She would rather return to Blackmore and spend the rest of her life as a spinster.
If she flatly refused to even consider the Viscount, mayhap her brother-in-law would be successful in locating an amenable gentleman who could overlook her pariah status in return for a connection to the Duke of Blackmore.
But what about Christian Stanhope? She thought back to the first time she’d set eyes on him and her inability to erase him from her thoughts since that moment. What would happen if Nicholas approached him? Most likely he would laugh and walk away. But what if he didn’t? Would he be cruel as Nicholas feared? Would he expect her to share his bed? Bear his children? An unaccustomed tremor accompanied a sudden picture of them entwined. Naked.
Shocked that she was capable of such vulgar imaginings, her eyes flew open. She opened her mouth, intending to give the Duke permission to find her a suitable, accommodating,complianthusband thatwasn’tEdmund Fitzroy. Instead, she heard herself saying in a surprisingly steady voice, ‘Given that Lord Cottesmore is very likely to feel the backlash of my impulsive action, we would be doing him a disservice if we did not appraise him of the situation and at least allow him to make the decision as to … as to whether … if he wishes…’
‘To rescue you from total ruination,’ her father supplied.
Chastity frowned at his harsh, though possibly accurate, assessment of her situation. Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite finished.
‘Of course, your faux pas will be old news as soon as thetondiscover your husband’s a suspected killer,’ he snorted, ‘but at least you’ll both be snubbed together.’
‘So the alternative is for me to be purchased like some kind of brood mare?’ Chastity cried. ‘Well, go ahead and try and find a willing contender, but I tell you now, I would rather remain unwed for the rest of my life than tie myself to Viscount Trebworthy.’
Reverend Shackleford opened his mouth to respond, but before he had a chance to speak, Nicholas got there first. ‘Chastity’s right,’ he announced to everyone’s surprise. ‘As much as I’d prefer it, we can’t simply ignore Stanhope’s involvement. Doing so could well make matters infinitely worse for Chastity.’ He pushed back his chair. ‘I have already invited the Earl to attend me on another matter, so we’ll wait and see what he has to say.’
The Duke stood up with a wince, his old wounds received at the Battle of Trafalgar clearly paining him in the cold and damp. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I for one am famished.’ He gave a grim chuckle before adding, ‘There’s nothing like a family crisis to whet one’s appetite.’ He turned towards the Reverend. ‘I trust you are not intending to start your journey home in this weather, Augustus.’ It wasn’t a question, and Reverend Shackleford knew better than to argue. He sighed in defeat.
‘Given the circumstances, I am better placed here for the moment,’ he responded heavily.
‘Good man,’ Nicholas responded with a faint smile. Turning towards Grace, he held out his arm. ‘Shall we?’
Reasonably confident that she wasn’t to be confined to her bedchamber with nothing but bread and water, Chastity got to her feet and followed the others towards the breakfast room. Despite everything, she had the strangest feeling in the pit of her stomach. A tightness that was part dread and part wild exhilaration. She didn’t know which was worse.
Chapter Five
‘How do you spellbastard, Papa?’
Christian Stanhope stared incredulously at his daughter for a second before putting down his dish of tea. ‘Where did you hear that word, sweet pea?’ he asked carefully.
‘I heard John, the footman, say it. He said you were an upstart bastard. I think he was talking to the stable hand–I can’t remember his name, sorry, Papa.’
‘You don’t have to remember everybody’s name, Mercy,’ Christian chided gently.
‘But Miss. Sharpham said it is the mark of good breeding to remember the names of those below you.’
‘Yes, well, perhaps instead of focusing on manners, Miss. Sharpham should spend more time on your letters since your spelling clearly has room for improvement.’
‘It’s true,’ Mercedes Stanhope responded forlornly, ‘I’m nearly nine years old, and I should be able to spellbastard.’ She glanced sadly at her father before adding, ‘I don’t know how to spellupstarteither.’
‘Well, neither word has any place in the vocabulary of a young lady of good breeding, so you should not worry your head about them.’
‘Is Miss. Sharpham right then, Papa? Am I a young lady of good breeding? What does upstart bastard mean?’
‘Yes, you are, sweet pea. And a young lady with such excellent breeding should never be heard uttering words likeupstartbastard. Nor does she need to know what they mean.’
‘Is John the footman in the suds now? Cook said I wasn’t to listen to anything he said ‘cos he’s just a bloody bone picker.’
Christian winced. Really, his daughter was spending too much time below stairs. Time she should by rights be spending with her governess. The problem was, he couldn’t afford to pay Miss. Sharpham to be with his daughter full-time, and as the only child, Mercy was naturally lonely and gravitated towards the livelier portion of the house. He looked around the dreary breakfast room. In truth, this house was a bloody mausoleum. He hated it. But there wasn’t enough in the coffers to renovate the townhouse as well as the estate.
