Page 6 of A Question of Worth

The recognition settled on him with the heaviness of a door closing — not slammed, but pulled shut with the quiet click of necessity. He could not walk away from it without feeling that he had failed in precisely the way he had spent his entire life trying not to fail.

"You have always fought to keep our family name clear of any and all scandal," James continued, more forcefully now. "Do not think that someone else will do it, not when you yourself can take action."

Grimacing, Nathaniel opened his eyes and looked into the wide eyes of his brother. His thoughts had gone to the future, to the stories that would take on a life of their own, that would then stand up and dance a jig in the middle of society. The truth, whatever it was, would be irrelevant if gossip was allowed to take hold. Lady Warrington's legacy would be questioned. Her entire family — her extended family, even — would be whispered about, gossiped over.

James was right. He had to do something about it.

"Then I shall."

Relief swept into his brother's expression. "I thank you, Ashcombe. I knew you would agree."

Nathaniel nodded but said nothing more. Responsibility had been handed to him from the very first moment of his birth, duty pressed upon his shoulders from the time he could walk. Hehadto protect the family name, to anticipate and dissolve threats before they could even take shape. Whatever Lady Warrington had intended by this, he had to make certain it would do nothing to damage his own family line.

And that meant finding out the truth.

He rose to his feet and reached for his hat. The solicitor's clerk was already tidying the chairs, restoring them to their places against the wall. Most of the seats were unremarkable— shifted, left at angles, the ordinary disorder of a room lately vacated.

But the two chairs near the front — the ones where Miss Fairleigh and her aunt had sat — were still precisely where they had been. Neatly aligned, close together, as if the two women had occupied as little space as possible. He noticed that a small reticule had been left on the seat of one chair. Even as he registered it, the clerk moved toward it, scooped it up, and hurried to the door.

"The lady," the clerk called into the corridor. "She has left her reticule."

Nathaniel heard a murmur of thanks — Miss Fairleigh's voice, thin and distant, already at the outer door. The clerk returned without it.

He put on his hat, nodded to James, and went. Whatever Lady Warrington had set in motion, he meant to see the end of it. Tomorrow, he would begin.

3

Eliza lifted her tea cup but then set it down again, having not even taken a single sip.

"Eliza?"

She looked up at the door to the parlor, seeing her aunt step inside. "Good afternoon, Aunt. Did you find what you were looking for in the bookshop?"

Lady Newark nodded and smiled. "I did." She tilted her head, her lips pressed thin as if considering. "I think it only fair to make you aware that you may find some of thetonwhispering about the inheritance."

Her fingers found the edge of her saucer and gripped it. "Thetonknow of it?"

"I believe so. I did receive a look or two and heard a whisper that confirmed to me that someone from the group present that day has been speaking of it to others. There may well be rumors very soon — but there is nothing that can be done about that." With a small smile on her face, her voice lifted as she gestured to the tray, clearly desiring to change the subject. "You have tea and cake, I see."

Given that the cake had tasted like ash in her mouth and the tea was now growing cold, Eliza could barely muster a smile. "Yes. I do."

"Might I join you? I have informed the staff that we are not to be disturbed for at least an hour, so that we might speak openly and without restraint."

Eliza nodded but then grimaced as her aunt made to lift the tea pot. "You may wish to ring for a fresh tray, Aunt."

Lady Newark frowned, sighed, and then walked across the room to ring the bell. "You have not drunk any, then?" Eyeing Eliza with a sharp look, she closed her eyes as Eliza nodded. "You did not break your fast nor eat luncheon. Eliza, you will soon be wasting away!"

"I hardly think so, Aunt," Eliza replied, with a wry smile. "But I am grateful for your concern."

Sitting down, Lady Newark reached across and took Eliza's hand in her own. "Did you sleep at all last night? You are still very pale."

With a shake of her head, Eliza looked down at her lap. "I could do nothing but toss and turn. I cannot understand what Lady Warrington was doing in offering me such a thing. To be given such a great inheritance is extraordinary indeed — but this condition that has come with it is profoundly confusing. I do not know where to begin, and every time I eventhinkabout it, my thoughts tangle and leave nothing but an ache in my head."

"Then do not think about it, not yet." Her aunt sighed again and then sat back, releasing Eliza's hand. "You must give yourself time to calm your heart and your thoughts before you begin to pursue the connection between yourself and Lady Warrington. It was a great shock for you, I am sure."

"And for you?"

Lady Newark let out a quiet but wry laugh. "I was greatly astonished, to be sure. At the same time, however — andthis before I knew of the condition attached to it — I was overwhelmed with joy and relief for you." Her smile faded. "I thought that you would finally be free of the shadow lingering over you, courtesy of your father's foolishness." Her shoulders lifted a little. "Mayhap you still shall be."