“Is that what he said he was doing? Looking for his son?” Leo pressed.
“Well, yes, he said that he was owed money for the cottage rental, and there had been some confusion with the son and some property rights, and—”
Leo was on his feet. “That bastard. Property rights, my arse.” He went to his desk and rummaged around in the drawers. Not finding what he wanted, he headed to the door, nearly runninginto Jeffrey, who carried a tray with a teapot and toasted oatcakes.
“Where are you going?” Prudence snapped.
“I have to tell my mother. She needs to leave as soon as possible. Miss Pendansky, how do you feel about France?”
“Why France?” Prudence asked, just as Georgie was saying, “Never been.”
But Leo was out the door. Prudence had half a mind to go trailing after him, as she’d never seen him in a panic. Or a hurry. Or anything but completely in control of himself. Well, notalways.
“Should I pour?” Georgie asked.
“Please.” Prudence couldn’t think about tea or oatcakes or anything at the moment. Why did Leo care so much about this Mr. Morgan. Was he actually Leo’s father? He certainly looked the part. That was something she didn’t doubt.
She sighed after the footman left the room. “He’d better get back here quick. I have too many questions.”
“You’re mad at him.” Georgie plopped a bit of sugar and milk in her teacup, but left Prudence’s untouched.
“Yes.” Prudence straightened her shoulders. She’d forgotten that because she’d been so busy puzzling over the strange connection. Her anger was subsiding. He’d wanted them both gone from that cottage, for whatever it was that connected him to Mr. Morgan. She wished for Gregory once again. Not as a husband, but as a people watcher. He was so good at getting at what men wanted, the whisper of truth that crawled beneath their words.
The only time she’d ever known Gregory to be wrong was about himself. He’d said that he wanted Prudence to be his wife, but he didn’t. Not really. Or if he did, it was that he couldn’t get over his shame of wanting her. Prudence didn’t know which.And she’d finally grown weary of wondering about an answer she’d never get.
Leo returned, his gait quick and purposeful. “Ladies. My mother has questions for you; she’s making her way to the drawing room.” The muscle in his jaw worked and flexed.
“Mr. Moon,” Prudence said, still maintaining their formal distance since Georgie was in the room. “What is going on? What is the urgency?”
Leo shook his head, his face a kaleidoscope of emotion as his expression morphed through difficult thoughts. “Mr. Reginald Morgan is a dangerous man.”
Prudence nodded, but saw the rest of his answer spelled out across his angular face. The face that looked so much like Mr. Morgan’s, who spoke of a son named Leo. “But is he your father? Biologically speaking?”
Leo winced. “Yes.”
“So you are Leonard Morgan, not Leopold Moon?” Prudence pressed. She didn’t even know the name of the man she had let into her bed. How had she become so reckless with herself?
“No. I was born Leonard Morgan, and I have legally changed it to Leopold Moon. There is nothing underhanded or shameful in what I did. If anyone cared to look, it has all been there in plain sight. I’ve not hidden a thing.”
Prudence tried not to feel a sting of betrayal. This was the loose thread of his secret. The secret so big that he would not share it with her—that she was not trusted enough to be party to. She had trusted him so quickly, letting him see all of her messy self, telling him about Gregory and their marriage bed. Her cheeks burned with shame. How foolish she was. So desperate to be wanted that she let this man, whatever his name was, worm his way into her heart. Leo went back and rummaged through his desk drawers again.
“But I would guess you did so in London, not in your home county?” Prudence had to keep her mind focused on the facts of what lay before her, lest he affect her judgement again.
“Yes,” Leo said, brandishing a small brass key.
“So the paperwork is here in London, which is not somewhere your father could get to, in order to find you,” Prudence guessed.
Leo turned to a lower cabinet in the great built-in shelves that sat behind his desk. He flung open the cabinet door to reveal a second, keyed door, which he unlocked.
“You never expected him to find you,” Prudence said.
“I hoped he was dead. I believed him dead, when he didn’t come and didn’t come.” The door revealed a safe, which he deftly opened. There was a stack of banknotes that Leo removed and set on his desk. Prudence’s stomach clenched. There was more than enough sitting on his desk for him to win a bid for her against Lord Grabe. But she hadn’t been worth it. Not worth the secrets, not worth the money.
“What is that for?” Prudence asked, trying not to let anger and disappointment flood her voice.
“That old bastard just wants money, that’s all. He wants to bleed me dry until nothing is left.”
“So you’re going to buy him off?”
