‘But I thought…’ She looked up to see a slight flush creeping above his cravat, threatening to reach his cheeks. Was it embarrassment or anger?
She did not wait to find out. ‘I don’t think I should like it, at all,’ she finished firmly. ‘But thank you for the offer.’
‘Do you mean to remain here?’ he asked, shaking his head as though he still couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
‘If I must. Perhaps I will find my own way out. Grandfather will not live for ever.’
‘It might be years,’ he warned. ‘I cannot stand by and see you suffer.’
‘You never could,’ she said gently. ‘Because you have a good heart.’ She loved that about him. About both versions of him,really. ‘You have wanted to help me from the first. Even before we…’ Now, she was the one to blush. ‘But the matter of my inheritance is still not settled. The answer to that lies in this house and I am not leaving until I find it.’
‘I do not need your money,’ he said, again.
‘But I do.’ The words felt right and honest in a way that nothing had in a very long time. She had spent too much time, as limp as lettuce, letting the men around her run her life, as she’d pretended to run theirs. But today, she was flesh and blood.
It was the feeling she’d been seeking when he proposed. If it had been any other man, that knowledge might have disappointed her. But Thomas had helped her find the strength to get this far. She would always love him for that. But today, she loved herself as well. Why would she settle for a man who did not share that feeling?
‘But you might be carrying my child,’ he pressed.
‘Tom Smith’s child,’ she reminded him. ‘The poor man died before it was born. I have seen his obituary.’
‘You are speaking of my heir,’ he said grimly, giving her the look he’d used to intimidate her grandfather.
‘Your bastard, you mean.’ She sighed. ‘Such things are not unknown in your family. My child’s own father had connections to Bonham through his uncle, Maurice. Unacknowledged, to be sure, but they were known by the gossips in London.’
‘Have you gone mad?’ he asked, shaking his head incredulously.
‘No madder than you were for creating this fantasy in the first place,’ she said sharply. ‘You were so thorough that your story will explain everything I need it to, if there are consequences to what we have done. But none of it got me my inheritance.’
‘That is the only thing I cannot give you. I have tried and failed. I will try again if you wish. I will wait until the old man dies. I…’ By the desperate, worried look on his face, this failurewas the thing that truly bothered him. It was an even worse reason to marry her than duty.
She laid a hand on his arm to silence him. ‘If I am as clever as you seem to think, I should be able to get it for myself. Grandfather lied when he said there was no will. I am sure of it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘He said it had burned. But he is too covetous to give up the proof. I can imagine him reading it from time to time, just to laugh at how he tricked us. It is here, somewhere. I just need to find it.’
His mood had changed from agitation to interest.
‘You may help me, if you wish,’ she said, lowering her lashes in the way he’d claimed could befuddle him.
He looked faintly dazed for moment. Then, as if he remembered she’d refused him, he straightened and gathered his dignity, looking back at the house. ‘I told Skeffington this was not over.’
‘Then, let me give you a chance to pay him back in his own coin. I need you to create a distraction. Keep him occupied long enough so I can search his room. Over the years, I have looked for proof of my parents’ wishes many times and never found it. The master bedroom is the only place I have not had access to. You have already convinced him to come downstairs. But now that he has, he watches me, constantly.’
‘How long?’ he asked, not needing any other details.
This unquestioning loyalty was more flattering than a bucket of compliments. It stirred powerful emotions in her that were nothing like the childish infatuation she’d used to feel when she thought of him. This was the rush she’d experienced as they’d made love under the standing stones.
But lust could be saved for another time. She smiled at the duke. ‘I need about an hour, maybe less. It is only one room. How many secrets can it hold? If it still exists, the will is hiddenthere. If I cannot come away with it on the first try, at least we will know where not to look in the future.’
‘Very well,’ he said, grim and determined. ‘Name the time, and all shall be as you wish. I will make him so angry he will forget you even exist.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thomas rode back to the inn in the Bonham carriage with his family crest on the door. The vehicle was almost, but not quite, as impressive as it could have been. The driver had hurried from London and changed horses on the way, so it was not being pulled by the fine, matched bays he’d bought for it.
In every other way, he had been his most splendid and pretentious self when he’d returned to the Skeffington house. His clothes, his grooming and his manner had all been perfect. It had not impressed old Skeffington. Nor had it impressed his granddaughter.
Bonham was annoyed. No one ever refused him and yet it had happened twice in one morning. His requests were always met. He’d hardly ever had to demand. But Skeffington had ignored him and walked out. An offer of marriage should have been accepted immediately and with enthusiasm. Instead, it had been refused by Louisa.
Bonham might be annoyed, but both Thomases—Smith and Carew—were mortified. The old man had been the same as always. It was hardly a surprise. But he had been counting on Louisa. He’d assumed she was not the sort of girl to make love with a man she felt nothing for.
