“Yes, it is,” the old woman replied, looking pointedly at the two Malory brothers.
“Nicky?” Eleanor beseeched him, and Nicholas sighed.
“Very well, I admit I have no bastards, either male or female. You are quite correct, madame. It is one thing I am most careful about.”
“The only thing.”
He gave her a slight bow but made no reply. His manner was casual, even bored, but Nicholas was seething inside. He enjoyed verbal battles with his grandmother when they were alone, but not in the company of others. She knew it and was baiting him just to be ornery.
“Oh, do be seated, Nicholas,” Rebecca said testily. “I’m tired of craning my neck to look at you.”
“Is this going to take long then?” He grinned maddeningly before taking the chair across from her.
“Please don’t be difficult, Nicky,” Eleanor beseeched again.
He was taken aback. This, from Ellie? She had always been the one he could talk to, the one who understood the bitterness just below his surface. While he was growing up, she’d always been a shoulder to cry on. How many times had he ridden the long road between Hampshire and Cornwall in the thick of night just to see her? After he grew up, she was still closer to him than anybody. She never even scolded him for the way he lived. It was almost as if she knew why he did the things he did.
She didn’t, of course. Only Miriam knew the reason he was so reckless, why he forever walked a tightrope, never easing up.
Nicholas looked at his aunt tenderly. At forty-five, she was still good-looking, with light blond hair and soulful brown eyes. Her older sister Miriam had once been the prettier of the two, but bitterness had helped ravage Miriam’s beauty. He liked to think Ellie’s goodness had kept her so nicely.
This was the woman he had secretly pretended was his mother, all through childhood. Her expression told him many things, and she was as easy to read just then as she’d always been. She was sorry for his predicament. She was praying he wouldn’t cause trouble. She was also in agreement with whatever had been decided behind his back. But would she side with his grandmother against him? She had never done that before. Did she really think he had ravished Regina Ashton? Oh, he might have seduced the girl if she’d been willing, yes, but the fact was that he hadn’t seduced her. His conscience could overlook his intentions.
“Did they tell you all of it, Aunt Ellie?” he asked her.
“I believe so.”
“They told you it was all a mistake?”
“Yes.”
“And that I returned the girl unmolested?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Rebecca frowned. “Leave her alone, scamp. It’s not her fault you got yourself into this.”
“We know whose fault it is,” Anthony’s contemptuous voice sounded behind him.
Nicholas had had enough. “What is it to be then?” he demanded, turning around in his chair to look at Anthony.
“You already know what must be done, Nicky,” Eleanor said with gentle reproof. “It is unfortunate that any of this happened. No one here believes that you meant to harm the girl, but the fact remains that her reputationhasbeen irreparably damaged. She should not be made to suffer the humiliation of vicious gossip because one of your escapades went awry. You do see that, don’t you?” She took a long, steadying breath. “You can do no less than accept responsibility for your actions. You must marry her.”
Chapter 10
“ICAN’T stand it, Meg, I really can’t!” Reggie cried, agitation overcoming her.
The maid ignored the wail, just as she had ignored all the others. “Are you going to sleep in that scarf?”
Reggie put her hands to her throat. “Yes, of course. Uncle Edward may come to tell me what happened instead of Uncle Tony. I don’t want anyone else to see it.”
Meg frowned and went back to the sewing in her lap. She had seen the lovebite herself. Reggie couldn’t hide anything from her, not for long anyway. She was outraged by the whole affair, and for once she was in complete accord with Anthony Malory instead of siding with the girl who sat cross-legged in the center of her bed, wringing her hands in an agony of suspense.
The Viscount Eden of Montieth should be shot, not given this treasure for a wife. Meg had never heard of anything so grossly unfair. Did you give the petty thief your purse with a thank-you-kindly? How could they give her precious Reggie to the man who was responsible for her shame?
“Will you go downstairs and see if you can hear anything, Meg?”
