“Perhaps,” she answered. “I’m helping Reed.”
“Reed knows about this?”
Caroline hesitated. “Not exactly…Please, Mother. Let me speak with him alone.”
“You are sadly mistaken if you think that’s a possibility. Come on, then. Let’s go speak with this earl. If we can help Reed, all of us must step up.”
MEETING HER MOTHER
Feminine voices—at least two of them—had Maxwell rising from the settee, his eyes searching for an escape. What had he been thinking? She’d only made her come-out this year. Of course her mother wouldn’t allow him to meet with her alone.
Realizing he was, indeed, trapped, he quickly twisted his mouth into what he hoped resembled an agreeable expression. The door opened, and his heart tripped a little at the sight of Caroline, who looked tired but pretty in a bright blue gown as she sent him an apologetic grimace.
The apologetic look, he presumed, was for her mother’s presence.
“My lady.” He bowed to the older woman.
“Not a lady, my lord. If my husband was ever a lord, it was only for a few seconds. I choose to remain Mrs. Rutherford.”
Maxwell swallowed hard. If Mr. Rutherford had been an earl for a few seconds, in those moments, he would have realized his fate.
“Mrs. Rutherford,” Maxwell said, dipping his chin and wishing he’d waited for his newest reporter to appear at the Gazette rather than showing up at her home uninvited.
If he’d wanted privacy, he could just as easily have asked her to come to his office.
His office, where he no longer knew who he could trust.
“My apologies for intruding so early on your day,” he added.
“I’m actually pleased. Especially after escorting my daughter home so late last night—very late and without a chaperone.” The woman lifted one brow, the force of her assumption landing with pinpoint accuracy.
The assumption being that Maxwell was courting her eldest daughter—because he had, in fact, walked Lady Caroline home far later than was appropriate. As for a chaperone…
“I—” He cleared his throat. “It was not my intention—” He coughed in an attempt to clear out the choking sensation.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to work out the contracts with my son. Although, you have my approval. There is plenty of time to plan the wedding to take place at the end of the season.”
“Pardon?”
“Mothhhherrrr.” Caroline sent Mrs. Rutherford an admonishing look. “I told you already that Mr. Black is not courting me.”
“I wouldn’t know. He certainly acts as though he is courting you.” And then the older woman moved her hands from behind her back, where she had been holding a copy of today’s paper. This woman’s eyes were alert—and cunning—not unlike her daughter’s. “The most determined bachelors have been forced to marry for far less, mind you. But I’ll leave that conversation for his lordship and Reed to have later. What I want to know, my lord, is, what are we going to do about this?”
She pointed to his paper. Specifically, the Scotland Yard article. She was going to rebuke him for reminding the ton that murder charges had not yet been cleared where Lord Standish was concerned.
Flicking a glance in Caroline’s direction, Maxwell exhaled. No doubt she was also as protective of her son as she was of her daughter.
Possibly more so.
And Maxwell was the person who’d approved that article. He would not apologize for it.
“When Scotland Yard opens an investigation, it’s my obligation to publish it.” He did not gentle his voice. News was news.
“Seeing as my son was nowhere near the hunting cabin that night, they won’t find anything. But no one really cares about the truth, do they? Unfortunately, by simply reading these rumors, people develop opinions. Some will act upon them.”
“It isn’t all that damning, Mother.”
But Mrs. Rutherford wasn’t finished.
