“We only have part of the story.”
Her mother had been desperate too. She had died with a secret. There were too many coincidences to ignore.
“I’ve told you everything.” The lord remained behind the chair.
“My mother needed money,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt as she turned to face the lord. “And she knew Mrs Flavell.”
Templeton blinked. “Half the ton knows Mrs Flavell.”
“But not every woman goes there looking for help.” She lifted her chin. “She also wrote to Mr Moseley, asking for a loan. To escape the same unbearable suitor. You, Lord Templeton.”
“Me?” he stuttered. “I barely knew your mother.”
“Yet you visited the house.” She invented that part.
“I gambled with your father, but we were barely acquaintances.” He dared to step from behind the chair. “I don’t know anything about these loans. When you find the real culprit, I expect an apology.”
Dominic’s attention snapped to his quarry. “Was it you?”
“What are you accusing me of now?”
“Were you responsible for my mother’s condition?” The question tore its way out of him, stripped of his usual control. “Was my mother carrying your child?”
The room went still.
Templeton’s face drained of colour. “What?”
Dominic’s fists clenched until his knuckles blanched. “Answer me.” His voice cracked on the last word.
“I told you. It was a brief affair. It ended a year before she died.”
“I don’t believe you.” Dominic rounded the desk. “She’s dead because of you. The unborn child along with her.”
Daphne caught her breath. It made sense now. The two white roses. The rage that drove him to control every debauched lord in the ton.
Templeton didn’t stagger back. He squared his shoulders, determined to stand his ground. “You’ve got the wrong man.”
“You forget I know what you’re capable of. You see a woman you want and prey on her weakness. Use money to buy a place in her bed.”
The lord’s mouth thinned. “I offer a solution to their problems. You make it sound as though I force them.”
Daphne cleared her throat. “You do make it hard to say no.”
“Careful,” Mr Ramsey warned quietly when Dominic muttered a curse. “Give his lordship a chance to explain.”
Templeton’s gaze flicked between them, calculating now rather than afraid. “If your mother was with child, it was not mine.”
Dominic’s breath shuddered. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you like,” the lord shot back. “I thought her willing. If you want the man who ruined her, look elsewhere.” He drew a hand down the fur trim of his coat. “Ask yourself. Do I appear more terrifying than Moseley?”
The comment gave them all pause.
“Perhaps Harland was your man,” Templeton added. “The devil agreed to sell his own daughter to save his neck. He knew both your mothers intimately, and the timeline fits.”
“Harland couldn’t father a child,” Dominic countered. “I have his physician’s report. It’s why Miss Harland has no siblings.”
Daphne thought of Mrs Flavell’s letter. Her mother hadfeared falling with child. She despised her husband. Which meant there had been another man.
