“He knows Ava worked in a brothel in Dublin before finding you injured after the rebellion,” Mrs. Bellamy replied. “He knows she claimed to be your wife, when no such marriage record could be found. And therefore, your daughter would, by law, be illegitimate.”
“And your…employee…is willing to publicly confirm these details?”
“Kitty has no loyalty to Lockwood. She liked Ava and wishes to protect your daughter.” Mrs. Bellamy smoothed her skirts. “She was fond of Ava, actually. Feels guilty about betraying her memory. But guilt doesn’t put food on the table.”
Lucien turned back to face her; his expression cold. “What’s to stop me from simply denying everything? It would be my word against your girl’s. An earl’s son.”
“Nothing,” Mrs. Bellamy agreed readily. “Except Lockwood has been thorough. He’s had men searching parish records throughout Ireland. There is no record of any marriage between you—under any name—and a woman named Ava. And several people in Malahide remember the ‘widow Collins’, who wasn’t a widow until you supposedly married her.”
The careful life he’d constructed since returning to England seemed to crumble around him. Everything he’d feared since discovering Ava’s deception was coming to pass. His daughter would bear the shame of illegitimacy. His sisters would suffer for his mistakes. And Courtney—God, Courtney was facing Lockwood’s threats alone, believing she was protecting him.
“What would you suggest I do?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
Mrs. Bellamy’s eyes glittered in the firelight. “Kill him.”
Lucien stared at her, momentarily speechless.
“I’m perfectly serious,” she continued, unperturbed by his shock. “Men like Lockwood don’t simply go away. Even if you pay him once, he’ll come back for more. You think he’ll be satisfied with stealing your fiancée? Once he has Lady Courtney’s dowry, he’ll still hold your secret over your head.”
“You’re suggesting murder,” Lucien said flatly.
“I’m suggesting a permanent solution,” she corrected. “Men duel over less every day. Or accidents happen. A tumble downstairs, a runaway carriage, a midnight swim in the Thames.”
Lucien shook his head, disgust welling within him. “I am not a murderer, Mrs. Bellamy.”
“No? That’s a shame,” she remarked, watching him carefully. “Sometimes violence is the most direct path to justice.”
“Is that what this is about for you? Justice?” Lucien’s laugh was bitter. “Or merely revenge because Lockwood is cheating you of your blood money?”
Mrs. Bellamy rose, drawing herself up to her full height. “Call it what you will. I have my reasons. But consider this—Lockwood intends to meet Lady Courtney tomorrow night at Lady Fenchurch’s ball. He expects her answer then. If she refuses him, he plans to spread his poison immediately. Your reputation, your daughter’s future, your sisters’ prospects—all destroyed before sunrise.”
Lucien’s mind raced. If what the woman said was true, he had less than twenty-four hours to counter Lockwood’s scheme. “And your price for this information?”
“Two thousand pounds,” Mrs. Bellamy said promptly. “A fair sum for information that could save your family from ruin.”
“Two thousand—” Lucien broke off, incredulous. “That’s extortion.”
“That’s business,” she replied calmly. “Consider it an investment in your daughter’s future.”
Lucien moved to the desk, pulling out paper and ink. “I won’t have that money until I marry. You must have heard my family is broke. I can provide you with a promissory note.”
Mrs. Bellamy considered this, then nodded. “I can wait for the wedding. Unlike Lockwood, I won’t be back for more. I’m rather proud of what Ava achieved and we working ladies must stick together.”
As Mrs. Bellamy rose to leave, a cold determination settled in his chest. He would not kill Lockwood, no matter what this woman suggested. But he would stop him—immediately and permanently.
“One more thing,” he said. “Where can I find Kitty? I may need to speak with her directly.”
“You should call on your friend, the Duke of Blackstone. I believe he’s just set Kitty up in a house. She’s not told anyone where that is. The duke does like his privacy. The girl has moved up, so don’t ruin things for her.”
Farah’s brother? The man who was afraid of any scandal? The rigid and proper golden duke with a common prostitute? Lucien was astounded. He always thought the Duke of Blackstone was above such things, but he supposed all men had needs. He would call on the duke first thing in the morning. He had to find Kitty.
“One last thing, my lord. Lockwood is a snake—not a gentleman—so don’t go thinking your society rules apply. If you get the chance, kill him.”
“I’ll manage. As you know, I haven’t been a gentleman for the past five years,” Lucien said curtly. “Is there anything else I should know about Lockwood’s plans?”
Mrs. Bellamy paused at the door. “Only that he’s desperate. His creditors are circling, and that makes him dangerous. Lady Courtney’s dowry isn’t merely desirable to him—it’s necessary for his survival.”
After she departed, Lucien stood motionless in the center of the study, the magnitude of the situation washing over him. Courtney was facing Lockwood’s threats alone. The thought of her sacrificing herself, possibly agreeing to marry that snake to shield Ava-Marie from scandal, made him physically ill.
