Page 83 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

“He appeared quite vexed when we mentioned Andros and Diana,” she said.

“I… I told him they were adopted, but I didn’t tell him they were also Immortals,” he admitted. “I thought it best not to.”

“Agreed. So… how did there come to be sons and daughters in the Woodhurst line?”

For a moment, Darius didn’t respond, but when pressed, he sighed. “A couple of his wives had lovers, which he had to ignore, so that worked in his favor, and if a wife was particularly faithful to him, he employed a man to wear a mask and act on his behalf.”

“Eww,” she replied, obviously not pleased at hearing that particular solution. “How did he handle the inheritance? The transfer of the title? What happened to the children?”

He watched as her eyes widened with fright, and he quickly held up a hand. “Nothing nefarious, I assure you,” he said. “Most died before they reached their majority. He mentioned one daughter still lives on the Continent, and she believes he’s her great nephew,” he explained. “As for the transfer of title, I think living in the country made it possible for him to fill the position of titleholder as well as heir. After so many generations, he knew what needed to be done. When his last wife died, he faked his own death, and his ‘heir,’ who was conveniently attending university on the Continent, returned to England and claimed the title.”

“How convenient,” she remarked. “But what’s he doing this time? Did Sarah give birth to any children?” Her eyes once again widened. “Does she know he’s an Immortal?”

Darius shook his head. “She does not, although…” He paused and dipped his head.

“What?”

“I think he’s considering… the possibility of telling her the truth. He believes that of all the wives he’s had, she is the best educated and would keep his secret.”

Stella nodded. “I am in agreement,” she whispered, her furrowed brows belying her words. “Did she have any children? Because she implied they have a son who is attending university, and I’m sure she would never have cuckolded Woodhurst.”

Stella’s thoughts went back to A General and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and Baronetage of the United Kingdom for MDCCCXXVI. According to the entry for the Woodhurst line, Sarah had supposedly given birth to a boy in 1816.

“She did not, but she didn’t have to. He had a wife before her who died in the childbed.” Darius waggled his brows, as if the story had been staged.

“And the child?”

“He’s the one attending Cambridge.”

“He has to be real, though. Surely Sarah is aware of what’s printed in that book. She would have met him. Probably raised him as her own.”

“Raised by his aunt on the Continent.” Once again his brows waggled.

“‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive,’” she murmured.

“Did you just make that up?” he asked.

“No. Sir Walter Scott did,” she replied. “It’s in Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field.” The town coach rolled to a stop in front of their townhouse.

“A poem?” he guessed.

“Indeed.” She tittered, knowing he had never learned any poems. Nor did he know any sonnets. Given he already knew how to seduce and make love to her, he didn’t need them.

She was about to use a few on him, though.

Chapter Thirty-Six

First Night Jitters

A half hour later

Their supper consumed and the few dishes and utensils washed in what was left of the boiled water, Angus and Iris pushed crates away from the walls in preparation for the painters. “After the bathing chamber is built, I think I will make you some bookshelves,” Angus announced.

Iris inhaled sharply. “You can do that?” She filled another pot of water to take upstairs so there would be wash water.

Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, he said, “I can make almost anything out of wrought iron.

“So they would match our drapery rods?”