Page 64 of Yours Truly, the Duke
“But this involves the children as well.” Anger settled through Fredericka. “It’s a horrific thing to do and must be stopped.”
“That would be impossible, dear cousin. I suppose men assume if women can gossip about the outcome, men can gamble about it. Now I must be on my way. Lady Tewksbury is expecting me for tea. I don’t want to be late.”
“No, you shouldn’t be late,” Fredericka answered, struggling to remain calm after hearing the latest news. “I’ll show you out.”
“Splendid. I would love for you to.” She looked down at the wadded newsprint in Fredericka’s hands. “And you can keep the copies. I bought them just for you.”
“I’ll put them in a safe place,” she remarked caustically and threw the newsprint into the fireplace. She couldn’t get rid of Jane fast enough. She needed to thinkabout what she was going to do. Her cousin seemed to be winning at every turn.
At the open doorway, Jane turned back and said, “Oh, I almost forgot. I had more news today. After my visit with you at Paddleton, I asked Viscount Longington if he might speak to the Lord Chancellor about a hearing date being set as soon as possible. Our little tête-à-tête has gone on for months now, and needs to be settled.”
Fredericka remained silent. There was no telling what she might say if she opened her mouth to speak. Nothing good for sure.
“I heard before I came over that a date has been set for the hearing and I wanted to make sure you knew it as well.” Jane smiled pleasantly. “Do you think two weeks gives you enough time to quiet the rumors about the duke’s bad behavior and your questionable marriage to him?”
CHAPTER 17
THE FLAX-FLOWER
—MARY HOWITT
The farmer hath his fields of wheat,
Much cometh to his share;
We have this little plot of flax,
That we have tilled with care.
Wyatt sat in a corner of the reading room of the private gentlemen’s club with a cup of coffee in front of him. He wasn’t used to waiting for anyone. Out of respect, he decided not to interrupt the Lord Chancellor and the man he was conversing with, but Wyatt didn’t have all morning. He had a cricket match starting in half an hour on the outskirts of town and didn’t want to be late.
The club was small, unlike White’s, but probably just as exclusive. It was early enough in the day not many gentlemen stirred about. Wyatt wasn’t a member, but Hurst was and had gotten him inside before hightailing it to the game to begin the warm-up with the other players.
From a room farther down the corridor Wyatt heard billiard balls smacking together and the muffled clamor of excited voices. A couple of men sat near the door, talking quietly. Otherwise, there was little noise stirring the stale air. As with all clubs, no matter the room you were in orthe price of the membership, there were always lingering smells of aged liquor, burned wood, and lamp oils.
Wyatt swirled the coffee in the cup and thought of Fredericka. He smiled. Only a few days in London and already she was fashioning her way into his life. Even with the trouble they’d had getting the children settled into a school room and with the footpad in the park, he enjoyed being with her and the children.
For all her denial to the contrary, she was prickly as a thriving briar patch in the heat of summer when it came to some things he said. It was irritating. He also found it stimulating. Which he wasn’t sure he understood. Wanting to take her to his bed and show her all the wonders of intimacy between a man and a woman—that he could understand. That’s what he wanted to do. He loved the way she—wait, no, no.
What the hell was he thinking?
Heliked, notloved, the way she felt in his arms. But he had to remind himself where that could lead. It wasn’t a path he was prepared to go down right now. He had to keep up his resistance to considering the possibility of Fredericka in his bed and do what he needed to do so she could go back to Paddleton.
Yesterday, he ordered the carriage for her. It would take a few days to add the Wyatthaven Crest, extra padding in the cushions, and other things he’d ordered to make the coach as comfortable as possible for her and the children. The sooner Fredericka could go back to the country the better.
Now that the carriage was on order, he had to keep his promise to her concerning the children. The man keeping him from doing that was less than twenty paces away.
Fredericka was right when she’d indicated he’d received what he wanted from their marriage, but she hadn’t. His inheritance from his grandmother was secure. Epworth assured him there would be no further surprises from her will. Wyatt was satisfied. Yet he agreed he hadn’t given Fredericka what she rightly deserved pertaining to their wedding agreement. Being a duke, he had always gotten everything he wanted without fanfare or resistance simply because of his position. Now he was up against someone who was, for all legal purposes, more entitled than Wyatt. The Lord Chancellor held a powerful political position and was fourth or fifth in precedence after the royal family.
Wyatt’s early morning meeting with Epworth and his investigator had yielded an enlightening tidbit, but not something Wyatt was willing to consider. In trying to find common ground on a political issue, one of Epworth’s men had stumbled upon what he called reliable gossip—as if there were such a thing. Whether it was true or not, the Lord Chancellor would not want it to land on the front page of every newspaper in England.
According to Epworth, the Chancellor’s wife had a younger brother whom she adored, who had quietly raided the inheritances of his stepchildren to settle personal gambling debts. And not just the children of his first wife, who died in childbirth, but also the children of his second wife too. Gossip, truth, or disgruntled family member, his party wouldn’t want the headlines to read that the man they put in charge of all trusts, guardianships, and many other things had allowed his own brother-in-law to drain his stepchildren’s inheritances for his own pleasures.
The sordid tale would not only call into question the Lord Chancellor’s credibility and his party, but alsohurt his wife and children if the story began to circulate. Whether or not it was true. Wyatt wouldn’t involve the man’s family in this.
He looked up from the cup before him and saw the chap who’d had the Lord Chancellor’s attention ever since Wyatt had been in the club was walking away, and the Lord Chancellor held up newsprint in front of him so no one could see his face. A gentleman’s way of letting others know he didn’t want to be disturbed.
Wyatt had no intentions of standing by that rule today. Epworth’s way of finding out what it would take to have the ruling in Chancery favor Fredericka was taking too long. Sometimes direct communications was the best way to go. He rose and walked over to stand before the man. “Lord Chancellor, a word with you, if I may?”
