Page 28

That had been the neat arrangement he had devised in his head. Then Olivia had entered the equation and somehow made everything considerably less neat.

"She has agreed," James said carefully.

"That was not quite what I asked." Hubert set his glass down. "Does she want you?"

James looked at him, startled by the directness. "Does anyone want who they are matched to in this society of ours?"

"But you do want her?"

James leaned back, staring at the candle flame between them. He should have answered easily. Instead, his mind supplied an irritating collection of images, Olivia smiling, Olivia arguing, Olivia holding the baby, Olivia standing close enough that he could feel her breath.

"She …" he said eventually, "will do."

Hubert regarded him for a long moment before shaking his head. "Then I suppose this is a convenient arrangement."

James did not answer. There was considerably more to it, and that fact was becoming inconveniently difficult to ignore. He had begun with a problem that needed solving and somehow acquired a woman whose happiness mattered to him. Worse, he had begun to imagine what his life might look like with her in it, and James had always considered imagination a dangerous luxury.

"Who is she? This mystery woman?" Hubert asked.

"Lady Olivia Shirley. The daughter of Viscount Shirley in London. She is staying with her aunt at present at Charnley Manor."

"Yes of course, Lady Jane. I am acquainted," Hubert said. "There is another matter, I thought you never wanted children."

James's expression hardened slightly. "I never wanted my own bloodline to continue," he said. "You surely understand the distinction."

Hubert's amusement disappeared, replaced by quiet understanding. "I do," he said, his voice gentler.

James looked toward the portrait of his father again. The old man's painted eyes seemed particularly accusing tonight, which was fitting. James had spent years believing that his father's demand for an heir was simply another attempt to control him. Yet now James had discovered a way to satisfy the letter of that demand without surrendering the one thing he had always guarded most fiercely, the right to decide what his family would become.

"So, you have found a loophole," Hubert said slowly, beginning to understand. "The child will be your heir, the estate will be reunited, and you will regain control of what your father divided."

James nodded. "Precisely, and it should be."

"And the trustees?" Hubert asked. "What becomes of us?"

"You remain," James said immediately. "You will continue managing your portion of the estate, as you have always done before father divided it."

Hubert's eyebrows lifted. "Even after you regain control? You wouldn't want my inheritance?"

"I would hardly dismiss the man who has spent years preventing this family from collapsing into complete disorder." James's voice softened. "You are more than a trustee, Uncle Hubert. You are practically a father to me."

The words were difficult to say, and James found himself grateful that the candles provided enough shadow to conceal some of the emotion in his face. Hubert went very still, and for once he had no witty reply ready.

After a moment, Hubert reached across the table and placed his hand over James's. "Thank you," he said quietly. "That means more to me than you know."

His fingers tightened briefly around James's hand before he released it. "You are like a son to me as well, James, and because I have that privilege, I am going to tell you exactly what I think."

James almost smiled. "I suspected there would be a lecture."

"There will be several," Hubert replied gravely. "You are playing with fire. You are marrying a woman tomorrow, adopting an abandoned infant, concealing the child's true parentage, and intending to convince half the aristocracy that a baby appeared after nine months because nature politely followed your timetable."

James laughed under his breath. Hubert pointed a warning finger at him. "I am serious."

"I know," James said, his amusement fading as he looked at his uncle. "And I know there are risks."

More than risks. There were secrets, threats, his father's legacy, and a woman he had known for far too short a time who had somehow become essential to the plan. Yet beneath all the uncertainty, James felt something he had not expected to feel when he first picked that abandoned child from the roadside, certainty.

"Then I shall need your support," he said.