“Ah,” she began.
“Ignore my sister,” he said.
“Well,” ventured Drew, “if I’d witnessed the... the incident, I suppose I would ask you how well you could contain the gossip among your staff. Do you trust them? If they can be asked not to discuss what they’ve seen, then perhaps we could all... walk away without anyone being the wiser. The girls are another story, but if I took them into confidence, if I explained... explained...”
Here Drew faltered, because she had no idea how she could explain. What could she possibly say? That she’d felt a deep, unshakable attraction to the duke from the moment she’d seen him lurking in the antechamber of Kew Palace? That the attraction had mounted, like a thirst she could not quench? And when he offered—nay, when he’d pulled her to him—she’d seen the chance, at last, to drink? The sheer bliss of that moment had drowned all reason, and good sense, and her future. She swam about in the sensation of it and, at the time, considered it so very worth the cost. Until... it wasn’t. Until this moment, standing before him, helping determine some way to be dismissed while pretending to be grateful that he wasn’t tossing her out on her ear?
She could hardly tell himthat.
“No, no, that would never work,” Lachlan was saying. He rolled from the chair and began to pace. “We traveled from Avenelle with a very small staff. Few servants were willing to remain in my employ after the riot—not near enough to keep pace with a London household. I hired ten city servants, at least, when we arrived. They’ll have no loyalty tome, not when it comes to a morsel as delicious as this. The Duke of Lachlan kissing a governess? God help me.”
“Not just kissing,” interjected Lady Tribble from the back of the room.
“Bloody hell, Timothea—can you not attend us and make some useful suggestion? What in God’s name are you doing in the shadows?”
“I’ve been searching for this library all week,” said Lady Tribble, emerging from the shelves with a small stack of books. “Books were frowned upon at the Temple.”
“Right,” gritted out the duke, “but your search for leisure reading is not the goal of this conversation. We’re making some decision. About... about Miss Trelayne.”
“I would like to return to my rooms,” declared Lady Tribble.
“Do not leave us alone together,” Lachlan countered.
“Do not leave me, asleep on my feet, in this library,” shot back Lady Tribble. “I’m tired and I wish to go to bed.”
“And tell your daughters what?” Lachlan asked. “Timothea? Second to your great fatigue and search for a bedtime story, we’ve convened here to work out some answer for the girls.”
Lady Tribble flipped open the topmost book and stared at the page. She did not answer.
“Are you aware that, just this morning,” began Lachlan, “Miss Trelayne explained the consequences for assignations between unmarried men and women to the girls? In no uncertain terms, she explained it. It was beautifully put. And not untrue. Sonow what?”
“Sonow,” said Lady Tribble, speaking to the book, “Miss Trelayne, whom you’ve hired for this very purpose, may interpret the scene in the gallerytothem andforthem. ’Tis her job.”
“Interpret it for themhow, Timothea?” bit out Lachlan. “She is involved—chiefly,primarily—she is involved. She can hardly make a lesson of it when she was one of the... er, players.”
Humiliation, hot and sticky, melted down Drew’s body like wax down a candle.
“It’ll be ever so easy to explain if youmarry her, Ian,” said Lady Tribble.
The melting sensation stopped cold.
Lady Tribble clunked down the books on the desk. “There, I’ve said it. Now may I be excused from this conversation?”
“Timothea—” he began.
“No!” refused the baroness. “Do not ‘Timothea’ me. I’ve said it.Twice, I’ve said it. What other choice do you have, Ian? This effort to cast around for any other option confuses me. Do you intend to turn her out? Claim something like ‘indecency’ or some such? Nonsense—please think again. I’ve witnessed enough piety and sanctimonious scorekeeping to last a lifetime. It’s exhausting. And unsporting. And boring, really. I’d recommend anything but.”
“Of course I would not turn her out for indecency,” Lachlan said. He glanced at Drew and then away. The conversation had begun to feel like a tennis match, with Drew’s future as the ball.
“So you believe you can pass it all off as a trick of the light? Or a misunderstanding?” Lady Tribble went on. “Please. Imogene and Ivy may have been sheltered these last five years, but they are not stupid. And certainly the servants know what they’ve seen. The only choice is to marry her, Ian. If she will have you. Now—” she took a deep breath and gathered her books “—I’ve a headache. And I’ve said all I can on the matter.”
“You’re going?” Lachlan stated.
“Yes, I’m going. I was already abed when Imogene roused me.”
“Roused you, did she?” he asked. “And what reason, pray, did she give for summoning you to a room of the house into which no one ever goes in the middle of the night?”
“She heard a terrible ruckus. Fighting, she thought. Or a fire. She is very astute.”
