She could see the relief that washed over him. He smiled again, his large hand warm as it clasped hers. “A man never had so much trouble over a pretend mistress.”
“You must admit, you put up a good show. The house, on that street, with someone living inside. You go there often.” She grimaced. “At least, it seems that way.”
“Having me followed, are you?” There was laughter in his voice. “So you do care.”
“Why is Lethbridge having you followed?” Her tone was dry. “From what I overheard, he doesn’t care.”
“For the marquess. I told you, he requires me to be a certain sort of man. His sort. To be worthy of his holdings. To that end, he ordered Lethbridge to have me followed. My every movement is reported to him.”
It seemed ridiculous. Outrageous. How could a father behave that way? Yet, it also seemed true. William’s clipped words and cold tone when he spoke of his father, the shadow in his blue-green eyes. It all spoke of a terrible relationship with an awful man. “So you couldn’t have courted anyone before? Not until he deemed it time?”
“I suppose I might have, though I knew he didn’t wish me to wed too early. He’s terribly afraid I shall fall in love with some woman and go soft.”
“But won’t he think you have? You took me riding. You brought me flowers.”
William shook his head. “He ordered me to court you. He can’t have it both ways. Besides, there is my mistress. So long as I keep that house, he won’t worry I love you.” His expression hardened. “I admit, if he discovers I do, he’ll do all in his power to separate us.”
Lanora brought her free hand to her chest, a jolt of worry going through her. “How can you think he won’t discover it? I’m sure Grace has told the entire staff.”
“She said they can’t be bought.”
“Bought? No, of course not, but they won’t think it’s a secret that you love me. They’ll simply tell people. They’re certain to be excited about it. Wouldn’t you be, if someone you loved found happiness?”
He frowned. She saw him struggle with the idea.
A horrible thought came to her. “Is there anyone in your life who you love, who loves you?”
He jerked as if struck.
“I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to ask such a thing.”
William shook his head, slowly. “It wasn’t and yes, of course there is. There’s Darington.” He raised her hand to kiss. “There’s you.”
“And the woman in the house, who you shelter so diligently.”
“Yes, and her.”
Lanora felt a pang at his agreement. She wouldn’t put him through the same questions again, though. She would trust his words. “The staff will already have told people. You can be sure of it.”
He smiled, but the edges were brittle. “Hopefully the marquess will discount such sentiment as impossible.”
“How can you live with such a father?” she whispered.
He looked away, angling a blank stare toward the wall opposite him. He swallowed, once, but his expression was empty. “You don’t get to choose your father.”
She reached out, lay a hand along his jaw to draw him back to her, but he didn’t move. “Or your mother.” Yes, her mother had died, but his had gone mad. So mad, his father sent him away. All knew the marchioness had died in the madhouse, insane. Lanora felt his jaw jump, his teeth grind together.
“I don’t care to speak of my mother.”
She dropped her hand. No, of course, he didn’t. What was she thinking? “You say your father wishes you to marry so he may approve of your choice. Why now?”
“He’s dying.” There was no missing the cold glee that sparked in his eyes.
She nodded, pressing back shock. “And if you do not marry to his liking, your sister inherits his fortune?”
“Correct.”
“But you want the money, so you can help people, and that would include her, yes?”
