“Children can certainly do that to you,” Daphne agreed, nodding and rubbing her belly with fondness.
The twin sisters hugged again, each expressing her support for the other. Victoria wished she could continue to hold on to her sister, but she knew that the latter must go home and retire, given her condition.
“Say hello to Hector for me,” she said, as they bid their last goodbyes for the night.
“Ha. Your favorite nephew, as always,” Daphne teased.
“He’s like me.”
“Troublesome.
“Oh, yes.”
Chapter Thirty-One
He arrived in London a few hours before, but he had to settle something first. He went to the offices of the scandal sheet writer before sundown and slammed Miller’s signed report on his desk.
“Do you see that, Mr. Foxworth?” he asked. “The vicar has signed a report that what you’ve published was false. He said that Lord Penwike threatened him, so he didn’t have a choice but to show him an incomplete part of the records because he didn’t feel it was right to reveal such private records to someone else.”
Mr. Foxworth, a thin, bespectacled man in his fifties, was trembling when he read through a signed copy of the new record. This one included not only the deaths of Thomas and Cecilia Abernathy but also the baptismal record of Melody Weston-Abernathy.
“I did not know that, Your G-grace. I—I was simply eager to write an exposé, thinking you had done something unforgivableto your wife and the rest of society,” the scandal sheet writer stammered.
“Well, you know what to do.”
His mind was too chaotic for sleep, even though his body was battered with exhaustion. He went to the tavern for a drink. He needed something to carry him into the realm of dreamless sleep.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you just return to London?” Jonathan’s voice interrupted his reverie.
Richard was nursing a glass of port, his mind drifting in that space between chaos and sleep. With his carriage waiting outside with the youthful coachman, Neil, he felt safe enough to drink alone.
“Preparing my mind for sleep,” he said honestly.
“So, have you heard about what happened to the park?” Jonathan asked, sliding next to him and signaling for a tavern maid to bring him a drink.
“The park?” he echoed.
“Hyde Park. Your wife and child went there with the nursemaid. Just them,” Jonathan said, letting the last few words linger.
Richard’s blood ran cold, but he did not want his friend to see that he was rattled by that little information.
“They did?”
“Yes. They were not welcome to say the least. Lady Smythe and her friends had come to tell her so. Of course, the duchess fought back, but not before those women made it clear that they didn’t want to be anywhere near your wife and child.”
Anger boiled within him. He should have been there. Didn’t he promise to protect Victoria and Melody? He was not able to do that.
“They were, of course, alluding to the scandal of Melody being an illegitimate child you brought home to an unwanted wife,” Jonathan continued.
It was not Melody’s fault that Penwike was a monster. As for Victoria, she was far from being unwanted. He wanted her so desperately that sometimes he was afraid he would lose all his senses for her.
But their safety was at the forefront. If anyone was listening to them at the tavern now, let them hear his indifference.
“It’s for Victoria’s own good that I am not there for her anymore. It should not be that difficult since all we have is an arrangement.”
His friend scoffed, backing away from him as if in disgust.
“You can’t be serious,” the marquess muttered, shaking his head. The tavern maid came with his order, and he drank it in one go.
