Page 2 of The Marquess of Secrets

“What?” he asked, dreading the response.

“I’ve heard his fiancée is a prostitute. Not that I’m judging, God forbid.”

How in blasted hell had that information seeped out? To say Spence’s and Tremain’s choices of brides were outside the norm of so-called proper society was an understatement.

All the more reason that Harrison must ensure his choice was beyond reproach.

His parents were tolerant and progressive in their thinking and accepted both women warmly, but Harrison was well aware that the incessant gossip hurt them, particularly his mother.

“I can trust you to keep this to yourself?” he ventured.

Francesca crossed her heart and nodded. “Absolutely. I’m known for my discretion. Though others do not hesitate to tell me things, I reveal nothing.” She snuggled under the bedspread, and her eyes brightened with anticipation.

It was true; her tactfulness was one of the reasons he’d chosen her for his mistress.

“The week between Christmas and New Year, two of Spencer’s friends hired a prostitute as a birthday gift. The madam herself took the assignment. Long story short, the week alone at a snowbound lodge in Wales resulted in a proposal. They are to be married next month.”

Francesca smiled. “How utterly romantic! Have you met her?”

He had, not two weeks past. The family gathered at Gransford Manor so he could meet not only Philomena McGrattan, the ex-madam, but Tremain’s fiancée, Eliza Winston, the ex-governess. Philomena’s gentle guidance and empathetic nature calmed Spence, and he focused all his restless energy on her, and she reveled in it.

A good match in all ways.

Harrison had believed that Spence, for all his foibles, would never find someone to love and love him in return. How gratifying that he had.

“Yes. For all her tragic back story, Philomena is a lady of courage and compassion. I am well pleased for my brother.”

She smiled warmly. “Then I’m glad. I don’t like repeating this gossip, but I suppose you should be aware of it as no one would dare say it to your face.”

True enough. “But you will?”

“Well, yes. I genuinely like you, Tennington. I cannot say as such with all the men that have been in my life.” She ran her finger along his lower lip. “Though you come here far too infrequently, I enjoy it when you do.”

“I did tell you to take on another if you wished,” Harrison said.

“No, I don’t juggle multiple men. Besides, the older I’ve become, the more I enjoy the solitude between your visits. And you’re most generous. The rental of this townhouse, the servants, the horse, carriage, and extra money—I have no complaints at all.” She drew her hand away and gave him another brilliant smile. “Besides the energetic bed sport, I like that you stay and talk. Take a meal. Oh, do you wish for me to ring for food?”

“Perhaps later. Pray continue with the Hornsby gossip. I am all attention.”

“It’s said that your middle brother, Tremain, perpetuated a scam for his own selfish needs. He pretended to be a country vicar for a nefarious purpose. Since his war injuries have rendered him impotent, he adopted a street urchin to be his son.”

That, as they say, takes the cake. Unbelievable.

Again, his blood boiled.

Harrison took a deep breath and exhaled, hoping to calm his exasperation.

“Tremain is a hero of the Anglo-Zulu War, and though his injuries were serious enough to require using a cane, as far as I’m aware, he is not impotent. He, too, will be married next month, the same day as Spence,” he huffed in frustration.

“But his injuries were not only physical. I observed the despair Tremain had sunk to. He needed to heal, and, to his credit, he did it his way. You see, he studied for the church, has a divinity degree, but decided to join the army instead.”

Francesca was riveted by the tale. He no doubt revealed too much, but he trusted her to keep her word.

“He wished to give something back to humanity, serve his fellowman in a way that did not involve war and killing,” Harrison continued. “I admire him for it. The family gave him the distance and time he requested in order to achieve those goals. Not only did it help thaw his frozen heart, as he called it, but it allowed a serene peace to enter his life—and a new spirituality. It opened his heart to love.”

“This bit of gossip on your viscount brother originated from Lady Samantha Trimly by the by,” Francesca interjected. “Vindictive piece of baggage. Also claimed your brother seduced a member of his congregation, a haughty governess of questionable background. The tale claims she’d been dismissed for seducing one of the sons of the house. I take it she is the woman he’s to marry.”

“Yes, she is.” Harrison rolled his eyes.