“Tabitha Montgomery told me that Thornbury’s mama is quite a good friend of Lady Shillingham and Thornbury’s mama has specifically asked him to attend. According to Tabitha, he would never disappoint his mama.”
“That sounds promising,” Mama replied, taking a bite of a kipper from her plate.
Eliza continued to glare at Justin, barely eating her food, while Justin pretended not to notice. He shoveled the contents of his plate down his throat in a concentrated effort to end the meal quickly and get the hell out of there.
“Mama,” Eliza finally said. “Do you remember the Atwood family? Someone asked me about them at the ball the other night, and I couldn’t quite recall.”
Mama nodded and patted her lips with her napkin. “Oh, yes. It’s quite a sad story. Lady Atwood died leaving behind her husband, the baron, and two young daughters. Then, not ten years later, the baron died as well. Consumption, I believe. Just awful.”
“Oh, that is sad,” Jessa said, frowning.
“And that’s not all,” Mama continued. “When their father died, a hideous cousin arrived from the country and claimed the barony. Apparently, he offered to marry the eldest girl. When she refused, he tossed them both out of the house.”
Justin scowled. “What sort of arse would do such a thing? Why didn’t the father ensure his daughters were provided for?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“He did, apparently,” Mama continued, “but the hideous cousin wasn’t meant to inherit. The man the baron thought would inherit had unexpectedly died in an accident not long before the baron passed away.”
“Well, that’s positively horrendous,” Jessa interjected, a sad look on her face.
“I quite agree,” Eliza replied, tapping a finger to her lips. “Hmm. The story is coming back to me now. I seem to recall it after all.”
“Disreputable bastard,” Justin murmured, pushing grumpily at his plate. In his current mood, he was considering finding the new baron in question and punching him dead in the face for his behavior.
“Last I heard, the elder daughter found work as a lady’s maid in London,” Mama finished.
“Oh, she did?” Eliza asked, a catlike smile on her face as she locked eyes with her brother. Without dropping her gaze, Eliza continued. “Mama, remind me. Don’t you recall that the eldest girl’s name was Madeline?”
Justin’s fork clanked to his plate. His jaw tightened. “What is the family name again?”
“Atwood,” Mama replied. “Lord Atwood was the prior baron. I seem to recall the daughters were Madeline and…”
“Molly,” Justin whispered as the blood drained from his face.
“Yes, I believe that’s right, Justin,” Mama continued. “Molly is her name. Do you know them?”
“I think I might.” He stood from the table, dropped his napkin into his chair, and stalked from the room.
Chapter Thirty
Justin spent the day in his study staring at…a handkerchief. And not just any handkerchief. A handkerchief that Madeline had dropped on her way out the other day. He’d found it immediately after she left, and he’d considered taking it to her or asking one of the footmen to deliver it. Instead, he’d kept it. He’d tucked it in his desk drawer and now he’d put it atop his desk and was watching it as if it might do something or say something to make the madness of the past two days make any sort of sense. The only thing the handkerchief told him, however, was that he felt differently about Madeline than he’d ever felt for anyone before. For God’s sake, he’d never stared longingly at a handkerchief before. What the bloody hell was the matter with him?
And what exactly had been Eliza’s point, sharing the story of Madeline’s past and her surname with him in that not-so-subtle manner? She obviously had no idea that he already knew Madeline was from the Quality. Even so, what did it matter?
Only, he already knew the answer to his own question. His sister had clearly been making the point that Madeline’s background meant she was suitable for him to marry. The news that Madeline was a baron’s daughter changed nothing for him. Did Eliza think him such a snob? She might as well have saved her breath. He had no intention of marrying a woman who had feelings for him, and it had nothing to do with Madeline’s background. He also had no intention of explaining it to his sister.
“Blast all meddlesome sisters,” he grumbled.
A sharp knock at the door was followed by it swinging open and Veronica marching in. She wore a fashionable ruby-red gown and had her gloved hands planted on her hips.
“There you are,” she blurted, striding forward and taking a seat in the large leather chair in front of his desk.
“Speaking of meddlesome sisters,” he mumbled under his breath.
She cupped a hand behind an ear. “What was that?”
“Nothing. You were looking for me?” he drawled. He was not in the mood for Veronica this evening. Not if she intended to give him hell, which he could only imagine was her intent.
“Yes, and I would very much like a drink,” she replied with a smile.
