“Yes.”
Simon laughed once, the sound sharp. “You’ve come to the wrong man.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Simon frowned. “Whose child?”
“That is what I intend to find out,” Edward replied.
Simon stared at him blankly. “What does that have to do with me?”
“You were in London at the time the baby was delivered, with the Wrexford crest,” Edward explained. “You are known for… certain behaviors.”
Simon scoffed. “Ah, there you go. You think I’ve gone and—what? Left a child in the street?”
“I want to know if she is yours,” Edward said evenly.
Simon blinked again, then laughed—loudly, unhelpfully. “Good God, Edward. I’ve fathered no baby! At least… I don’t think?—”
Edward’s expression darkened.
Simon held up both hands. “Let me think. Let methink. Affairs? Yes. Several. Quite a few, actually. But babies? No one told me about any baby.”
“Who were these women?” Edward pressed.
“How would I know?” Simon scoffed. “Actresses. Widows. One of them might have been a baron’s daughter, or a baroness. Can’t remember. But I have no idea who could have?—”
“That is the problem,” Edward interrupted.
Simon fell quiet.
Edward leaned in. “You will find out. You will identify the mother of that child, whether she is yours or not. And you will take responsibility for it.”
Simon bristled. “Edward, really, this is hardly?—”
“Hardlywhat?” Edward gritted out. “Hardly your concern? Hardly your fault? You’ve lived half your life escaping consequences. That ends tonight.”
Simon’s face reddened. “You have no right to dictate my life.”
Sebastian coughed lightly. “Actually, he does. He gives you an allowance.”
Edward didn’t even look away from Simon. “You depend on my money. You know it. And as of this moment, you will not receive a penny until you do what I’ve asked.”
Simon stared at him, stunned. “You’re cutting my allowance?”
“Yes.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
Simon looked between them, his mouth agape. “Edward, I swear—I don’t even know where to begin looking! These women—some I barely remember!”
“Then start with the ones you do.” Edward’s tone sharpened. “You will write to them, visit them, speak to every acquaintance you’ve charmed or ruined in the past year. And you will not come to me for a single shilling until you have the truth.”
“But I’m nearly ruined!” Simon sputtered.
“Then you have every incentive to work quickly.”
