“Give me a moment,” James said. Michael bid Wilhelmina adieu and retreated to the foyer. James reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Happy?”
“Very much so. And you?”
“I finally feel as though the world is starting to spin the right way again.” When she grinned, he caught her mouth in a deep kiss intended to serve as a promise. He would return with the special license, their children would marry, and then he and Wilhelmina would see to their own happily ever after.
This, unfortunately, would involve dealing with Cloverfield. God help him but there was not enough light in this world to banish the fury he felt when he thought of what the duke’s father had done and what the duke himself had planned. It was contemptible. If anyone ever deserved to be drawn and quartered, it was they.
Suppressing the shudder that threatened to jar him at the awareness of how Wilhelmina had suffered – of all she’d been through – and how he himself had treated her later, with utter disdain, he did his best to convey only love as he took his leave. And as he did so, he reminded himself that if it had not been for that long ago atrocity against her, Cynthia wouldn’t exist. Neither would the child she now carried.
There was beauty in the fact that they did, even if accepting the deed that had brought them into the world would never be possible.
Knowing about it would without doubt haunt him for the rest of his days, James realized while he and Michael made their way to Doctors’ Commons to find the Archbishop. He loved Wilhelmina and hated the fact that she had been tricked into an abusive situation from which she’d had no escape. He’d never get over it, even if he would fight to keep his anger at bay for her sake.
Instead, he would dedicate the rest of his life to undoing the pain and heartache she’d suffered by loving her for all he was worth. To this end, he would pledge himself to her forever, a decision which prompted him to ask the driver to stop by Pennington House on the way.
“I hope you don’t mind,” James told Michael. “It’s just a small detour. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Does this by any chance have something to do with you winning Mrs. Lawson’s hand?” Michael asked wryly.
“As a matter of fact, it has everything to do with it.” Pennington House was where they had met. It was where Wilhelmina’s reputation had been torn to pieces. It seemed like the most fitting place to try and restore it, however much he was able.
“Then by all means,” Michael murmured, “carry on.”
They pulled to a halt outside the white stone edifice fifteen minutes later. James peered at it through the carriage window.
“Well?” Michael prompted.
“There’s a good chance I’ll be turned away,” James said. “After that piece in the paper, my own reputation has suffered.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try.”
“Very true.” James took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped down onto the pavement. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Leaving Michael to wait in the carriage, James climbed the front steps of Pennington House and approached the front door. He ignored the uncomfortable clenching of muscle in his stomach and reached for the heavy brass knocker.
The butler answered his call with a stiff expression and a pair of arched brows. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dale to see Viscount Pennington.” James handed the butler his card and was promptly shown into a grandiose parlor not entirely dissimilar to the one at Clarington House. Feeling at home here wouldn’t be hard provided he managed to get his nerves under control.
“Wait here please,” the butler said. “I’ll see if the master’s at home.”
James answered with a tight smile. He crossed to the window and glanced out at the street where the hackney he and Michael had hired still sat. Thankfully his son’s life had gotten sorted. If all went well, his own would too.
“What an unexpected surprise,” a dry voice remarked.
James turned, a little surprised to see Pennington approaching. Deep down, he’d expected the viscount to turn him away. The fact that he hadn’t boded well. James stepped toward him and shook his outstretched hand. “I apologize for the intrusion, my lord.”
“Not at all.” Pennington gestured toward a chair and waited for James to sit before following suit. “Would you care for some tea or coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?”
“No thank you. I cannot stay long.”
“Then let us proceed.” Pennington leaned back in his seat. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I trust you’ve read the Duke of Cloverfield’s claims against me?”
“Indeed. Rather damning, unless you’re a sensible person who knows how to spot a lie.” Pennington frowned while James tried to come to terms with his statement and what it implied. “Can’t believeTheMayfair Chronicleprinted such tripe since they’ve always struck me as a respectable paper.”
“So you don’t believe Mrs. Lawson and I have been lovers for years or that I was the man behind her divorce?”
