Page 30 of The Scarred Lyon

“What a relief that must have been. What year was this?”

“The beginning of ’10. I knew there were trade disputes in the region, as Great Britain demanded that the Americans cut their trade with France during the Napoleonic Wars. There were also blockades on both sides. Some claim that Americans wished to annex territory to the north. I assumed these disagreements were minor, as did the government, which had its hands full with the Peninsular War. Jon and I were reunited, and we joined the 8th Regiment of Foot. We took up our commissions in York, serving the Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada.”

“We can leave it there for today,” Augusta gently suggested.

Frankly, Duncan was relieved. This torturous narration was best told in smaller segments—time to change the subject.

“Tell me about your son.”

Augusta’s expression softened, and she smiled. “Reese is the light of my life and one of the best surprises I’ve ever had. He was not expected, as I had taken great care to ensure I would not become with child. But there are no guarantees in life. Southen and I were all but over when I discovered I was enceinte. What a row we had. He claimed I did it on purpose to entrap him. Needless to say, it was the final nail in our already disintegrating relationship, especially when he suggested I take a nostrum to rid myself of the child.”

Duncan shook his head. “Typical response of the aristocracy.”

“Yes, I wasn’t all that shocked by his demand. He threatened to abandon me, turn me onto the cobbles without a penny. We finally reached an agreement that I would stay on in the residence and receive a twice-yearly stipend.”

Duncan placed his empty mug on the trunk. “Were there official papers drawn up?”

Augusta sighed. “Not as such. I should have insisted. He obviously instructed his solicitor to arrange for my upkeep, as the payments arrived promptly. I assume Southen never mentioned Reese to anyone, because when the solicitor contacted me at the end of September to inform me of Southen’s passing, he said that my maid and I had until the end of December to vacate the premises. There was no mention of Reese at all. These orders came directly from the new earl, Southen’s son.”

“Does Reese know about Southen?” Duncan asked.

“No. Southen visited only twice after Reese was born. The last time I saw Southen was when Reese was seven months old.”

“I had Patrick conduct a brief investigation while we were in London. I wanted to know what kind of man Southen was and, more importantly, what I could learn about the new earl, in case we have to have any future dealings with him.”

Augusta’s eyes widened. “What did you discover?”

“About Southen the son? Nothing good. The rumors say he is a rather depraved reprobate with a cruel streak. You are well rid of that family. I will have my solicitor contact the new earl to settle accounts and inform him of your marriage. I will refer to you as Mrs. Roberts, the housekeeper. If he knows nothing of Reese, we should keep it that way. Your son does not need such sordid family connections.”

Augusta nodded. “I completely agree. Let us sever all ties. Thank you for suggesting your solicitor handle it.”

“Were there any questions in the village regarding Reese and his parentage?”

“A few. I hired Prisilla years ago, and I stayed housebound during my pregnancy. Prisilla delivered Reese, and we said my niece had died in childbirth and that I was raising her child.” Augusta sighed. “Such a tangled web of lies. At times, it was difficult to keep it all straight.”

Duncan sipped his tea. “I can well imagine. What does your son look like?”

Augusta smiled. “He looks like me, with black hair and blue eyes, though his are a darker shade of blue than mine. He is a happy child who rarely throws tantrums and is curious about everyone and everything around him.”

“That shows intelligence and critical thinking. Given the proper schooling, there is nothing your son cannot accomplish. We will see it done.”

“I am grateful, more than I can say.”

“What will your son think of you marrying?”

“Before I departed, I explained that I was meeting someone to discuss a possible marriage. I wanted him to at least be aware of the possibility. I think he understood, as well as a five-year-old can.” Augusta smiled as she recalled the conversation. “He asked, ‘Will we have to move?’ When I replied yes, he was not best pleased. Then he smiled. ‘I will have a father!’ That statement nearly tore my heart in two. I was originally encouraged to lie to any prospective husband about Reese. I could not do it. When you offered to accept Reese—”

“That sealed the deal, eh?” Duncan teased.

“Yes. I reasoned that any man who could accept a child born out of wedlock was worth sharing my life with.” Augusta frowned. “You were right. I am selfish, more so than I was ten years ago. What kind of spoiled harridan runs from her family straight into the arms of a married earl, scandal be damned? It was not the great love story I thought—or hoped—it might be. Not at all.”

“You were young and naïve, seduced by an older man who should have known better. Even though you say you left willingly, he held power over you because of his age, experience, and title. Southen took advantage. It’s not all your fault.”

Augusta’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, I suppose that is true, to an extent. I never thought of it that way before. When I realized my mistake, when the excitement of running away faded, I stayed. I was afraid to go home. I am a coward as well.”

Duncan’s heart swelled with empathy. “We are all cowards in one way or another—”

The sound of frantic squawking chickens and loud whinnying from Dawn interrupted him. Someone or something was in the barn. Duncan immediately jumped to his feet. “Help me with my coat.”