Page 36 of The Detective and the Baroness

Travis sat forward. “Please, do not be cross. Think about it logically. This is done more than you think. You get a child, I get an heir, it works out all around.” He paused a moment. “What about the police detective? Thomason said he has been here quite often and that you have engaged in intimate conversations.”

Corrine sprang to her feet. “Get out. I will not be a party to such doings.”

Travis came to her side. “Easy. Steady now.”

He spoke to her as if she were a skittish horse trying to escape the paddock. That blasted butler! Nothing was secret. Corrine pulled away.

“As I said, this happens more than you think,” Travis continued. “There are many instances through the decades, perhaps even centuries, where the begetting of heirs through other means has occurred. We can have a good life. As friends and partners, we—”

Corrine had to keep her temper and retain her wits. She knew she could not allow overwrought emotions to send this conversation out of control, at least on her end. She pointed to the chair. “Sit, Travis. And listen closely to what I have to say.” She kept her tone steady and firm.

“Very well.”

“This marriage was too hasty on both sides. I was desperate, weary, and at the end of my rope physically and emotionally. I would have said yes to any man who offered to free me of my family’s financial predicament. Once the die was cast, I thought, why not make a go of this marriage? I was upfront with you about what I expected. You initially agreed. I confessed about needing money to save my family from the first. I did not deceive you, sir.”

“You were forthcoming on those points.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me any of this before we married? It’s patently obvious that we cannot continue with this sham of a marriage. I will release you so you may find a woman willing to go along with your appalling heir scheme. We can come to an agreement, one where I will return a part of the settlement, for example. We can also agree on the grounds for the divorce. I know there are only a few that are allowed, but we can deliberate and choose one that will not damage your reputation and—”

Travis shook his head. “I do not want a divorce. It has taken me a while to puzzle this out, but I am confident I have reached the right conclusion. It’s the only way forward, the only way to get an heir. I do not wish to find another woman. Once you think about this logically, you will see the common sense in such a partnership. Besides, you cannot afford to divorce me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Corrine gasped.

“Your father came to me last week and asked for a loan—of twenty-five thousand pounds.”

Corrine groaned. “Tell me you did not give it to him. I told you before we married that my father had sunk our family’s fortunes. His careless disregard brought us so low that we were moments away from debtors’ prison.”

Travis sat back, crossing his arms. “Of course, I gave him the loan. He is my father-in-law. Your brother must have gotten wind of the transaction because he came to me to quash it but arrived too late.”

There was no smugness in Travis’s tone, but Corrine had the sick feeling he felt it, nonetheless. She had the overwhelming sensation of being trapped. Checkmate.

“Even if you return part of the settlement,” Travis continued. “You will still be indebted to me for the loan. Your father signed the papers. If our marriage is dissolved, the loan comes due. The full amount.”

Was that why the solicitor had been at Travis’s residence in Camden Town? To draw up loan papers? Even if she returned the remainder of the marriage settlement in full, it would not be enough to wipe the debt clean. Corrine and her family would still owe Travis thousands and thousands of pounds. “I will make my father return it.”

“It’s gone. He invested most of it in some scheme or another. Or so he told me. I informed him there would be no more from me, not in loans or bailouts. Your careless father can sink or swim. And I told him thus. The man should be put away if your younger brother cannot control your father’s imprudent impulses.”

“You would keep a wife in such a way?” Corrine whispered. “Beholden to you, a captive under your thumb? Next, you will insist on an heir by whatever means, or you will call the loan due, ruining my brother’s future.”

“Come now. I would not sink so low,” Travis said, tsking.

“But do you not see? You have already sunk several depths. There is nowhere to go but farther down. And I do not know you at all, it turns out.”

“But you will come to know me better. I will sell my residence as soon as possible and move back here.”

Corrine rubbed her forehead as a sharp pain tore through her temples. “No. You took time to work out your evil stratagem. At least grant me a few days to contemplate what you have told me.”

“Evil? It’s hardly that. I never thought you would be so overly dramatic. I had you pegged to be a sensible woman. But I will give you two weeks to give this some thought. You will see it is the best solution for all concerned.”

Corrine could not believe this bizarre discussion. In turns, she felt disgusted and shocked. It would be prudent to change the topic before she said something she might regret. “I forgot to tell you something the last time we spoke. A man came here looking for the old baron. But he said he would seek you out soon. He wore a long, hooded cloak and seemed rather menacing. I thought I should warn you.”

Travis stood. “That is quite the change in topic. Is this some veiled threat?”

“Of course not. I’m merely passing on information. Do with it what you will.”

“I have not seen any hooded man, but thank you for the warning. I will call again in two weeks so we can discuss this further.” He came toward her and took her hand. Corrine tried to pull away, but he held it tight. “We can make a go of this, I promise. I’m not evil, regardless of what you may say or think. You are my wife. I am your husband. Remember that.” He released her hand and departed, closing the door behind him.

Corrine ran to the window and watched as a fancy carriage approached the door. Travis climbed in, and the carriage turned onto the street. It was then that Corrine allowed her pent-up anger to burst forth. She vented her spleen on the closest object, a porcelain horse figurine. With a swipe of her arm, she sent it careening across the room, and it smashed into bits on the wood floor. Yes, she’d acted overly dramatic, but this inconceivable situation warranted it.