“What kind of life can you possibly give her?” the viscount demanded.
“You may find this surprising, my lord, but I’m a wealthy man. I own three mines, and I have a comfortable home. My brother sent me here because he respects my business acumen.” He didn’t actually know if that was true, but it should have been. Did Phillip have financial sense? He was beginning to think he might.
Clavering’s expression altered sharply, shrewdness driving out misery. “My niece has no dowry. I was prepared to find some funds, but now…”
Now you don’t feel obliged, you old skinflint.The viscount might have recoiled from submitting his niece to someone who might do her harm, but he was still cheap.
There was a soft knock, and Fillmore announced Miss Euphemia Selwyn. She glanced into the room and quickly focused on Gideon with a soft smile. She was rumpled and weary so that any fool could see the days of caring for her cousin had left her exhausted. He smiled back, trying to reassure, but he dared not take her in his arms to comfort her. He wished he might at least stay to intervene between uncle and niece but thought better of it. He bowed to Clavering. “I will leave you and your niece privacy,” he said.
Mia opened her mouth to object, glanced at her uncle, and shut it again. A smile was all he had to leave with her.
Chapter Eighteen
Alone with heruncle, Mia couldn’t be certain if his ferocious frown meant fury or simple worry. She groped for something to say. “I’m surprised to see you, Uncle. It appears you were spared the influenza. How is my cousin Eustace?”
“On the mend, they tell me. Unlike that worthless friend of his, Bettinton, who died,” Uncle Ludlow grumbled.
Mia had few emotional resources to extend to the rakehell. “I wasn’t fond of The Honorable Mr. Bettinton, but I didn’t wish him ill. His poor parents.”
“Raised a ramshackle son, the damned fools, didn’t they? But don’t distract me, girl. What were you thinking, allowing that man to insert himself into my Selina’s care?” Uncle Ludlow demanded.
Fury, then. “I’m sorry to cause concern, Uncle, but Mr. Kendrick stopped to inquire after Selina and found me ready to collapse. He had been treating the grooms who had fallen ill, and felt he was in no greater danger entering. Without sleep, I might have succumbed and left poor Selina bereft of care.” Mia tamped down irritation that the man had yet to ask about her own well-being. There was little point in antagonizing him.
“I’m told she is better,” the viscount said.
Mia brightened. “Much better. Her fever has gone. I believe it is safe for you to visit her. Mr. Kendrick sent for Dr. Standish yesterday, and he pronounced the worst over but ordered another week or more of bedrest until she fully recovers.”
“That doctor knows you were alone with him?” Horror transfixed her uncle’s stiff posture as much as his face. “The entire county will hear of it! How long was Kendrick alone with you?” Uncle Ludlow paced furiously, spun on his heels, and waved a hand as if to brush something away. “It doesn’t matter. Your reputation is shattered. No decent man will marry you now, and you’ve tainted my Selina as well. You’ll have to marry him.”
“Three days, two nights,” Mia whispered, answering the question he waved away. “And we weren’t alone. Selina and I—”
“Selina was incapacitated and can be held harmless,” he insisted. She wondered if he was attempting to convince himself.
“You can’t force him to marry me,” she said more emphatically. “He did nothing wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter what he did. It matters what people think. No gentleman will have you now, and I’ll not have you haunt my house as some fading spinster for decades. I won’t have it. Eustace will marry, and his wife will manage Selwyn Court. Marry Kendrick or go live with your Great-Aunt Hortensia.”
The breath left Mia’s chest. Uncle Ludlow had never been particularly unkind, but he’d always made it clear she was a burden he wished to dispense with, the product of his impecunious brother’s unwise marriage to a dissenting preacher’s daughter. After his wife had died, Mia had ceased having any use to him. She shouldn’t feel as shocked as she did, yet a weight had settled in her stomach.
A ruined reputation would leave her at the mercy of the worst of the gossips. She’d seen what vicious talk had done to Gideon. It could mean she would never marry, never have children of her own. The thought of living as Eustace’s impecunious dependent made her stomach curdle. Great-Aunt Hortensia would be only marginally better. Worst of all, however, Gideon was to have a wife forced on him. He didn’t deserve that. She opened her mouth to say something but could not.
Uncle ignored her shock. She realized he’d continued speaking. She tried to listen.
“…worst of it probably isn’t true, but to be fair, you need to know a girl went missing in the village last week.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Aren’t you listening? The blacksmith’s girl, Lizzy something or other, thirteen years old,” he said.
“Lizzy Carter?”
“That’s the one. She went out to fetch milk and never came home. Woodglen’s dairy sells milk, you know, and—” Uncle’s color rose along with his voice.
“What a horrible thing! But what does it have to do with me?”
“Don’t be dense, Mia. I’m not saying Kendrick did it, but folks are saying that sort of thing happened when he was here before, and now it is happening again.” The viscount glared down at her.
“He would never! That is nonsense,” Mia shouted.
