She crossed her arms about her impeccable silver gown with long sleeves, and he wondered if the silk hid wounds too.
“Now that you’re an earl you wish to back away from the fight?”
He shook his head. “I have to go to the Lord Mayor. He’s never happy with me. He’d speak out against my appointment if not for fear of the Prince Regent’s disapproval.”
“You have favor, Daniel. You need to use it. This is what we planned.”
“What we planned? Or what you planned?”
“Yes, Daniel, I have plans for your life. I saw the promise in you early, and you’ve never disappointed me. You always do what is right. The Widow’s Grace is right.”
He cleaned his spectacles, trying to think of a way to reason with a woman who was like his mother. “It’s not gone unnoticed that widows are winning more cases at the Court of Chancery. Or that my name is on too many documents for inmate release at Bedlam. It’s been linked to suddenly appearing evidence against powerful families. Questions are being asked.”
“They need to question the laws, Daniel. You’re a peer; you can take it up in the House of Lords.”
“I still sleep with one pillow since you told me the Black Duke of Florence was smothered by his cousin.”
“Yes, but Alessandro de’ Medici actually died from a stabbing.”
That technicality was to make Daniel feel better? He took a breath. “I won’t take my seat and become more of a target.”
“You’re being ridiculous, nephew.”
“My horrid uncle rarely took his seat. Perhaps later, when Hope is older and all is more settled, I might, but not now. She needs to know I’ll be home . . . on time.”
Aunt’s sherry eyes popped wide. “My niece? She’s not doing well again?”
“Her nightmares are worse. She wasn’t speaking for so long, and now that she is, she’s screaming from her dreams. She wants me to make it better. I don’t know how other than being at Finchely rocking her. That means I shouldn’t be hauled off to Newgate.”
“That won’t happen. You’re too clever. Daniel, you’re a good father. She’s secure. She’ll be so proud of what you’ve done.”
“Not if I’m disgraced. Not if every aspect of my life is scrutinized and destroyed.”
“You sound as if you have something to hide. What is it, Daniel?”
He did have a secret to keep, but his dear aunt was too busy getting her operatives hurt to be of help. Daniel looked to the doors, hoping Mr. Anthon would come with his carriage.
“Nephew? What is it?”
“Lady Shrewsbury, you haven’t time for my troubles. You need to spend your days finding replacements for your favorites, the Duchess of Repington and Mrs. St. Maur.”
“Those women are very capable, but they haven’t fulfilled the Widow’s Grace promise. They must help other women, fivefold. They will serve a little longer.”
“Oh, they are done. His Grace, the Duke of Repington will stop his wife once he learns of the risks she’s taking. And Mrs. St. Maur, the gentle but loud woman, will be whisked away by a suitor before you get her killed climbing roofs.”
“Killed? You’re exaggerating.”
“Mrs. St. Maur has a nasty gash on her arm.” He took Lady Shrewsbury’s hands in his. “We need to stop. We’ve done enough. You’ve done enough.”
“We’re making headway. Women are getting their rights back.”
“Don’t you understand?” He waited for a servant to walk past, then drew Lady Shrewsbury closer to a hall, one laden with Roman statues that looked like the awful ones the Duke of Repington had at Hamlin Hall.
“Aunt, if it’s learned I’ve looked the other way, allowing widows to engage in burglary . . . all will be lost. My little Hope needs to know her father is coming home.”
“You’re in trouble, Daniel? Has someone made threats? Tell me.”
He bit his lip and bottled up the rage swirling inside. “I can fight my battles. It’s time to move forward. Let the duchess and Mrs. St. Maur and the others go on with their lives. You should too. Retire from your operations. A place in the country with me and Hope.”
