Page 89 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

Lady Derringer kept coming to mind. She’d seemed so full of wisdom yesterday, so interested in helping me with the orphanage.

Before I might change my mind, I put on my shawl and walked out the door, praying silently that Lady Derringer would still be at Lord Brookhaven’s.

Twenty-Seven

“So you see the predicament I’m in. Sarah and Joshua must have somewhere to go, and I must return the fortune to my uncle’s daughter. It is all right, of course. I shall be all right. I am only unclear as to what to do for Joshua and Sarah.”

If I were not so horrified and still a bit numb, I would have cried at the words I’d just spoken to Lady Derringer and Lord Brookhaven, for both of them were at home, and they both received me in Lord Brookhaven’s drawing room.

The situation was humiliating. No doubt I would groan enough over it when I was back in Milford, just a poor spinster schoolteacher, remembering the weeks I’d spent in London as a wealthy heiress.

A pity I hadn’t accepted oneof the marriage proposals I’d so quickly rejected.It was a joke I repeated to myself. The irony was quite amusing—or would be, if I could feel anything.

But why was Lord Brookhaven looking as if all the blood had drained from his face? Was he so appalled that I should lose my fortune and be penniless once again?

“Yes, we must think what to do.” Lady Derringer herself seemed quite alarmed as she stared pointedly at her nephew.

“That blackguard.” Lord Brookhaven’s voice was low but vicious.

“Who?” I asked.

I could see the muscles twitching in his jawline. But he remained silent.

“It wasn’t my uncle’s fault. He was trying to find his daughter,” I said. “But according to Mr. Sullivan, she intentionally misled him to believe that she was dead.”

“That woman is not the rightful heir,” Lord Brookhaven said.

“But Mr. Sullivan said he investigated her claims and that she is—”

“She is not the daughter of your uncle.”

“How do you know that?”

Lord Brookhaven spoke slowly but steadily. “I know it because you have no uncle.”

“What do you mean? John Robert Robbins was my uncle.”

“No.”

Lady Derringer raised her brows at Lord Brookhaven, but he ignored her and looked me in the eye.

“You cannot give that woman your fortune because she isn’t your uncle’s daughter. And she isn’t your uncle’s daughter because your uncle never existed. I invented him. The fifty thousand pounds ... actually came from me.”

I studied Lord Brookhaven. Had he gone mad?

“What about Mr. Sullivan? What—?”

“Mr. Sullivan was acting on my behalf when he gave you the money. But now he is only trying to take advantage of your good nature to get the fifty thousand pounds for himself. He may give the woman a small fee, but ... I never should have trusted him for this task.”

“I don’t understand. The money came from you? You gave me fifty thousand pounds?”

“I did.”

“But . . .” It made no sense. “Why?”

He looked at his aunt. “Now you can say you told me so.”

I stood up. I was confused, but I was angry too. “Were you making sport of me? Playing a game with my life?