“You may stop going through your mental list of those in your employ, searching for disloyalty.Youasked me to discover all I could about Karl’s current whereabouts, and the time he spent in London. You must have knownIwould be interested in the reason.”
Given the light that had entered the older man’s eyes, Hurtheven decided that lying to him would be useless as well as dishonorable.
“Not governess.” He held his guardian’s gaze. “Nursemaid, in this case. She served as nursemaid to Ash’s children. Now, she is theirformernursemaid. And, should things proceed as I anticipate, she will be my wife. I will not be as often at the disposal of the home office.”
“I see.”
He suspected Lawton didsee. “Nothing is yet settled, however.”
“In your hands, I trust any troubles will be taken care of. There will, I believe, be a...”
Hurtheven lifted his brows.
“...minorscandal.”
“One I expect to survive.”
“I suppose this is better than requiring my services to, say, arrange to avoid a court martial, bring a man back from the dead, or cover up a war hero’s familial negligence?”
Hurtheven had, over the course of the prior decade, made each of those requests on behalf of either Chev, or Ash.
“I’ve asked you nothing for myself,” he said stiffly. “Ever. Nor do I intend to do so.”
Had Lawton’s eyes softened?
Hurtheven sighed. “Ifall goes well, I will also be taking a bastard child as my ward.”
“Ah.” The fingers templed again. “The child of the governess-in-this-case-nursemaid...Karl’s child.”
Hurtheven’s cheek went taut. “Thegentlewoman. And, once the matter is settled, I will consider the child mine.”
Lawton gazed out the window, for a long silent moment. His gaze hazed, as if in memory...or in calculation. Hurtheven would not be moved. Not even by this man—to whom he owed his survival, his education, and his pride.
Lawton sighed. “At least it’s not the pig farmer’s daughter.”
Hurtheven bristled.
Lawton waved his hand. “I mean no insult. The Duchess of Ithwick has been a credit to the name. For your part, I had wished for a better alliance. But...”
“But?”
“...your father would have counseled you to follow your heart, and so I will do the same. Will I like her, do you think?”
“Do you plan to publicly countenance the match?” Hurtheven asked, surprised.
“Ifyou succeed in convincing her.” Lawton chuckled. “Her standards might be too high to accept a rascal like yourself.” His expression gentled. “Hurtheven, my boy, when have I ever given you reason to suppose I would not lend you my support in anything that mattered to you?”
Hurtheven shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “Never.”
“It isyouwho have insisted on solitude.”
“I know,” he acknowledged finally. “And I have my just desserts. She won’t take me by halves.”
Lawton’s smile slowly spread. “Well, then, son, you had better find a way to give her the whole.”
“It’s what I intend,” he said.
They shared a drink together, then...a toast to his success. Soon, he was on his way. As the boardinghouse came into view, his confidence completely left him. He had no idea how—or if—he was going to succeed.
