“Ah, but under what pretenses?” Lockwood leaned back, a calculating gleam in his eye. “Society believes he married this Ava legitimately, that his daughter is his lawful issue. What if that’s not the truth? What if Ava never went through with a wedding? How could she, when she’d already told him they were married? Could it be that their precious Viscount Furoe was living in sin with a common whore, that his beloved daughter is a bastard?”
Kitty paled. “My lord, I never said—”
“You didn’t have to.” Lockwood waved away her protest. “The implications are clear enough. Tell me, this Ava of yours, is she still in Ireland?”
“She’s dead,” Kitty replied flatly. “Consumption took her about two years ago. That’s the last I heard, anyway.”
“Convenient,” Lockwood murmured. “Very convenient indeed. No one to contradict whatever story Furoe has concocted.”
“Except perhaps those who knew Ava,” Mrs. Bellamy pointed out. “Those who might recall her boasts about finding a gentleman with no memory. Surely there must be church records of any marriage.”
“Excellent,” Lockwood said, his smile growing wider. “There should be a record of his marriage.”
Kitty shrank back slightly. “I don’t want trouble, my lord. Ava was my friend.”
“And you can honor her memory by telling the truth,” Lockwood coaxed. “For suitable compensation, of course.”
“Baron,” Mrs. Bellamy interjected, her tone warning, “What’s in it for me? You have this information because of me and Kitty. And as you know, everything comes at a price.”
“Come now, Bellamy.” Lockwood fixed her with a knowing look. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
The proprietress’s lips thinned. “Kitty, dear, fetch us some fresh glasses, would you?”
Once the younger woman had departed, Mrs. Bellamy leaned across the table, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Tread carefully, Baron. I don’t take kindly to being double crossed.”
“Nor do I,” Lockwood growled. “You best remember to keep quiet about this until I’m ready.”
“What are you going to do? Travel to Ireland and look for evidence—or should I say, lack of evidence—of their marriage?” Mrs. Bellamy retorted. “Furoe would probably pay anything to keep the details of his bastard from going public. He’s in need of a wealthy wife. No father would want a man with a bastard daughter.” Her eyes hardened. “This could be most profitable for both of us. I want out of this life too. I’m getting on in years. A nice cottage in the country would suit me.”
Lockwood’s smile never wavered, though a muscle ticked in his jaw. “You misunderstand me, dear lady. I merely seek to restore what’s mine. Lord Furoe robbed me of my rightful winnings, humiliated me before my peers and I want my family home back. If his past offers a means of redress, who am I to ignore such providence?” His lips formed a sly smile. “And if I can use this information to become wealthy, why shouldn’t I? It’s not my fault Furoe was a sucker.”
“And the child? Would you destroy her future for your petty revenge?”
Something flickered across Lockwood’s face, a momentary hesitation, quickly suppressed. “Maybe I can keep the child’s secret if it’s worth it to me,” he said dismissively. “What have you heard about his ex-fiancée, Lady Courtney?”
Mrs. Bellamy regarded him with undisguised contempt. “She is letting him court her, I believe. Furoe needs her dowry, and she’s mourned him for five years. I suspect she’s still madly in love with the man.”
He tapped his fingers together. “Interesting. That might be a way in.”
“What are you thinking now?” Mrs. Bellamy asked.
But before he could answer, Kitty returned with fresh glasses, her expression carefully neutral, though her hands trembled slightly as she set them down.
“Thank you, my dear,” Lockwood said, his voice silky. “Now, tell me more about your friend Ava. Everything you can remember. Leave nothing out.”
As Kitty began her reluctant recitation, Lockwood’s mind whirred with possibilities. This could be the leverage he needed not just to recoup his losses, but to destroy Furoe entirely. The scandal would be delicious: the noble viscount, living in sin with a brothel girl, passing off his bastard as legitimate. Society would devour him alive. What would he pay to stop that secret coming out? His London house and sister’s hand in marriage?
Or could he take a different tack. Lady Courtney loved Furoe. She had a very large dowry and was the daughter of a Marquess. What would she pay to keep her lover’s secret? Lockwood wouldn’t mind Lady Courtney as his wife. What a rise in status that would be.
And more importantly, Furoe would learn what it meant to cross Baron Lockwood. He might still be able to get DanversHouse by buying it from Furoe when he didn’t find a wealthy wife in time. Hell, once he married Lady Courtney and had her dowry in his hands, he could still reveal Furoe’s secret and see the man ostracized and lose everything.
“One more thing,” he said, interrupting Kitty’s narrative. “Did this Ava ever mention a cousin? Someone who might have accompanied her and the child to London?”
Kitty’s eyes widened slightly. “I believe her cousin, Caitria, arrived to care for Ava-Marie when she became ill.”
“And this Caitria—would she recognize you? Would she know of Ava’s…profession?”
“I don’t know. She lived in Cork, a long way away from Dublin. She might not know the story.” Kitty shrugged.
