Page 79 of The Duke of Deceit

Lucien held his breath and waited for him to deny it, to ask what proof Lucien had that the baby was his—God knew Lucien would have done exactly that himself only a few weeks earlier if someone had delivered that same news to him.

“She never told me,” Graham said quietly instead, staring down at the glass of port but not reaching for it. “I told her—that is, I made her promise that if…” He swallowed, so hard the vein in his neck pulsed. “She broke off with me, refused to see me—begged me to take the new post in Calcutta, said it was for the best since she had to go north to help with her relatives.” His mouth screwed up with a mix of betrayal and foolishness. “To help a cousin who was going to have a baby and needed her help.” He bit back a low curse. “And I believed her.”

“You had no reason not to,” Lucien assured him. “The St Clair women can be very…”

“Persuasive?”

Lucien smiled with pride as he thought of Jess. “Devious.”

“But why—why would Amanda do that?” He searched Lucien’s face for answers. “Why would she keep something like this from me?”

“Because she loves you. So much, in fact, that she didn’t want to interfere with your career.” He helped himself to a large dose of port and wished Graham would do the same. This conversation would be a lot easier if both of them were foxed. “She knows how important this opportunity in India will be for you, and she knows that you would never have accepted the position if you knew about the baby. You would have done the right thing and stayed in London to marry her.”

“I would have. I love her.”

“Truly?” Lucien popped a piece of boiled beef into his mouth and said around chews, “Amanda’s in London. I can take you to her right now. She can explain everything, and you can be married by special license within the fortnight.” Carefully gauging the man’s reaction, he added, “But you’ll miss your ship. Are you willing to stay in London and put Amanda and your child above your career?”

Graham’s gaze strayed out the window toward the docks, and his shoulders slumped. He murmured, as if to himself, “If I miss that ship, I’ll lose my position with the Company.”

Lucien’s chest tightened. He’d begun to believe Graham was a good and honorable man who would never have left Amanda in her predicament had he known. Was Lucien wrong about him? He asked carefully, “And you’d rather have your position than a life in London with a wife and child?”

“Of course not!” Graham shoved himself away from the table and began to pace.

Lucien really wished the man had snatched up a glass of port for liquid comfort. He grimaced. Leave it to his future sister-in-law to fall in love with a teetotaler.

“But I’ll have no way to support us if I stay in England, and I refuse to allow Amanda and our baby to be exposed to the hardships of India. So what am I supposed to do?” He halted, placed both hands on the table, and leaned over them toward Lucien, shaking his head at the impossibility of his position. “What kind of husband would I be if I can’t even feed and house my wife and child? She deserves better.”

“Yes, she does,” Lucien muttered as he studied Graham over the rim of his glass. “However, I might have a solution.”

Graham straightened. “Which is?”

“I need an assistant, a man I can trust to carry out a very special project for me, one that requires complete confidentiality and unwavering determination.” Lucien thoughtfully swirled hisport. “I think you might do nicely in that position, but the project might take years to complete. Of course, I’ll provide a wage comparable to the salary you would have had in India, along with living accommodations for you and your family, both here in London and on my estate, for those times when you might have to travel into the countryside on business. Interested?”

“Very much so.” Graham’s shoulders eased down as the weight of the world lifted from them. “But are you truly serious?”

“Deadly so.”

Graham nodded. “Then when do I start?”

Lucien stood and gestured toward the door. “Right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Simms rapped lightlyon the drawing room door.

Jess looked up from the book she’d been struggling to read. She’d been unable to concentrate on anything at all since leaving Ealing, and her art had been neglected. But she’d used the excuse of putting her art aside in favor of spending what little time she had with Amanda, who was planning to leave the day after tomorrow…and who had no idea that Jess had given her heart and body to Lucien. She and Auntie had managed to hide that well, and anything that Amanda might have noticed about her that seemed out of place was blamed on their argument.

Matilda was busily knotting her knitting into something that resembled a scarf and paused to glance up at the butler. “Yes, Simms?”

“You have a caller, ma’am.”

Jess glanced at Amanda, whose expression suddenly grew worried. Her visit was secret; she didn’t want anyone to see her for fear they would notice the bulge beneath her loose-fitting dress.

“Who is it?” Auntie asked.

“His Grace the Duke of Crewe.”

Jess’s heart stopped. Lucien was here?Impossible.