Bedford Square - Anne Perry [63]
This was no time for tactful evasions. Charlotte and Marguerite would return at any moment. Charlotte had already kept the conversation on gardening alive miraculously long.
“What are you accused of?” Vespasia asked.
He was pale to the lips. Again, the answer seemed forced from him. “Suit for the paternity of the child of one of my closest friends.” He struggled for breath. “The husband passed away recently. He cannot even deny that he contemplated such a thing.” His voice rose. “Of course he did not! The child was his, and he never could have thought otherwise. But even a whisper of doubt would ruin the mother’s reputation, and mine, the more so since we were friends … and even call into question the son’s inheritance, both of his father’s title and his considerable wealth.”
His face crumpled and his voice trembled now.
“To have anyone think that I could have behaved in such a way would kill Marguerite. She is … very frail. You know that. She has never ever been strong, and of late she has suffered … I simply will not allow it!”
“But you have done nothing wrong,” she pointed out. “There is nothing for you or Marguerite to be shamed by.”
His lip curled. The bright sunlight streaming through the windows showed the contempt in his face. “And do you imagine people will believe that … all people? There will be whispers, glances.” He laughed derisively. “Some well-meaning busybody will be sure to tell Marguerite what is being said, probably in the guise of forewarning her, perhaps in simple malice.”
“And so you will do what he asks of you,” Vespasia said. “The first time, and the second … and maybe the third? By which time you will truly have done something to be ashamed of, and his hold upon you will be real!” She leaned forward a little. “How far will you go? You are a judge, Dunraithe. Justice must be your first loyalty.”
“Marguerite is my first loyalty!” His voice was raw, his fists clenched. “I have loved her nearly all my life, and I will do anything to protect her.”
Vespasia said nothing. He did not need her to repeat that for him to betray his trust, sell his honor, would also devastate Marguerite. He must see it all in her eyes. He could not bear to look beyond the first danger and deal with them one at a time, pay the cost and think about tomorrow’s evil afterwards, hope then for some escape. Perhaps someone else would defeat the blackmailer before that?
The French doors opened, and Charlotte and Marguerite came in in a gust of bright wind and billowing skirts. There was color in Marguerite’s cheeks, and she looked excited and happy.
Dunraithe made a mighty effort to master the pain and the fear that had been so naked in him a few moments before. His whole expression changed. He straightened his body. He smiled at both the women, extending his warmth towards Charlotte as well.
“Your garden is quite lovely,” Charlotte said with very real admiration. “What marvelous things can be achieved when you have both the art to see what should be done and the skill to do it. In the nicest way, I am perfectly envious.”
“I am so glad you enjoyed it,” he said. “She is very clever, isn’t she?” The pride in him was enormous, a thing of unalloyed pleasure.
Marguerite beamed with happiness.
The tea was brought, and it was now almost four o’clock anyway. They sat making another half hour’s trivial conversation, then said their farewells and the carriage was called.
Vespasia told Charlotte what she had learned as they traveled back to Keppel Street.
“I am very afraid that this is far bigger than we had at first supposed” she said grimly. “I am sorry, my dear, but you can no longer keep your knowledge of Brandon Balantyne’s involvement from Thomas. I realize it will not be easy for you to tell him how you have become