Page 34 of Never Tempt a Widow

Chapter Seventeen

“Stay here, Fina, and let me handle this.” Rowland hadn’t expected their nemesis to be back quite so soon.

“Dundas is my problem. Don’t shut me out, Rowland. I beg you—give me a chance to repair the damage I’ve done.”

“You’ve done nothing, sweeting.” He softened his voice. “You were taken advantage of, at a young age—your parents should have protected you better. However, I’d far rather you let me deal with this. But by all means, conceal yourself where you can hear what transpires.”

Though he admired her courage, and her willingness to stand up to her enemy, there were numerous ancient blades and pointed weapons dispersed decoratively around the hallway. Recalling how confidently she’d wielded his paper-knife earlier, he decided it was better to keep her well away from Reedman. If anyone was going to run that arrogant pig through, it would be himself.

“I’ll hide behind the longcase clock. I promise to hold my tongue as best I can.”

“This isn’t going to be pleasant. Prepare yourself, Fina.” He kissed her briefly, then strode down the corridor to meet his unwelcome guests.

A thin-lipped Jacob had already admitted the two men and was now accepting their hats and coats. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I must take your sword, also.”

Rowland rolled his eyes. Of course, Reedman would have come armed—but could he use a blade, or was it just to give him swagger? How had the man found Lord Hanley and brought him here so speedily? His campaign was well-planned—Rowland must be on his guard.

Lord Hanley silenced Reedman’s protest with a wave of his hand. “Of course, you may take my companion’s weapon. We are here to see justice served in the usual fashion—and that should not involve violence.”

Rowland bit back his anger. Justice? What lies had Reedman told? Why did Lord Hanley think he was here to settle a legal matter?

“Shall we sit down in the drawing room then, like civilised people?” He gave Reedman a sideways look, challenging him.

“I have no objection to that at all.” Lord Hanley was out of breath, and his eyes darted back and forth, never quite meeting Rowland’s gaze. Was he, perhaps, an unwilling adjunct to this affair? Even so, the man was straight as a die and would want to see “justice” done—whatever that meant.

“Shall I ring for tea, my lord, or would you prefer something stronger?”

“That would be exceedingly welcome. I rode over at speed—this gentleman was most insistent.” There was apology in Hanley’s tone, and Reedman’s face soured.

“And the same for you, Mr Reedman?” Rowland enquired, reaching for the bellpull.

Lord Hanley, who had settled himself in the chair nearest the empty fireplace, looked up sharply. “You already know this gentleman’s name, sir? He claimed you’d never met.”

“Indeed. Lady Cavendish has told me all about this unconscionable rogue. No doubt a good deal more than he has told you himself.”

“Now wait a moment—” Reedman was half out of his chair, but Lord Hanley raised his walking cane, and the fellow subsided.

“Won’t you tell me what all this is about?” Rowland asked, pleased at how calm he sounded. “Although I suspect I can guess.”

He glanced towards the open doorway and saw a sliver of sky-blue gown. Fina was listening, waiting. He hoped he hadn’t offended her by excluding her from this discussion, but Lord Hanley’s good opinion was vital to him. He couldn’t anticipate Fina’s behaviour when she came face-to-face with Reedman again.

Hanley propped his cane against the arm of the chair and adjusted his wig. “This gentleman came to me yesterday with a complex tale. The gist of it is this—he believes that before your marriage, Lady Cavendish bore him a son, who has since been adopted by you. Knowing that you did have a baby boy—under tragic circumstances—I, of course, told him that your heir couldn’t possibly be his son. He tells me he has now spoken with your wife, who admitted she did, indeed, bear a child, but it was a girl, who subsequently died.”

Rowland caught the sound of a sob, quickly choked back. Damn it! He should not have let Fina overhear. Fortunately, any further disclosures were postponed by the arrival of tea, giving her the chance to compose herself. How he longed to hold her! But he must wait until this painful meeting had continued to the bitter end.

He accepted a cup of tea and took a sip, fortifying himself. “With respect, my lord, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I fail to understand why this man’s story is a legal matter.”

Suddenly, he wished the words unsaid. What if it was a legal matter? What if Reedman had brought forged documents to prove he was married to Fina? That would be a sticky issue and take far too long to sort out. He couldn’t bear to lose her now.

“Does this fellow claim to have wed her? Because my wife assured me that she was free when she married me.”

Reedman lowered his valuable Chinese porcelain tea-bowl towards the table, then let it drop the final inch. His gaze dared Rowland to complain. “I resent the implication that I am up to some kind of jiggery-pokery. No—it is nothing like that. I was to have wed Seraphina, yes, but there was a misunderstanding. Not on my part, but she was not in her right mind, having suffered an accident.”

An accident that was entirely deliberate, from what he’d heard. But Rowland kept his counsel—he needed to know exactly what game Reedman was playing before taking action.

Lord Hanley huffed impatiently. “What this gentleman alleges is that your wife’s child lives yet. That it was not a girl, as she said, but a boy. He believes your own son died quite recently, but you hid the fact. In short—Mr Reedman thinks you took his child from its mother and established it as your own. Later, you married her to conceal the substitution and to prevent anyone suspecting your scheme.”

For a moment, Rowland was so outraged that his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. What reason could he possibly have for doing so? But before he could find the words to repudiate this ludicrous assertion, Fina had flown into the room, her eyes flashing with fire.