Page 35 of Never Tempt a Widow

“It is not Sir Rowland who should be questioned, not his reputation that should be destroyed. It is that man, that man—”

Fina choked on her words, and Rowland was up in an instant, taking her into his arms and whispering in her ear, “Not now, my darling, wait. He will perjure himself—I’m sure of it. Pray, sit by me and calm yourself.”

He held her hand tightly and waited while Lord Hanley stood and bowed, professing himself pleased to make Lady Cavendish’s acquaintance. Reedman didn’t even stir from his seat, the unmannerly churl. Rowland pulled up a chair for her, close to his, and settled back down.

“My apologies, Lord Hanley. Lady Cavendish and I are both in shock at this accusation. Edgar is my natural son, and my wife’s own babe was already sadly deceased before we wed. You can see little Adelina’s memorial in the church.”

Reedman let out a snort. “What evidence is a piece of carved stone? Let me see the boy. I will know soon enough if he is mine.”

Rowland ignored him. “We have nothing to hide, Lord Hanley. As you know, I take my duties as a local magistrate very seriously and would never be party to such a subterfuge. How could I expect my tenants and the local inhabitants to respect my judgement if I don’t respect the law myself?”

He gave Fina’s hand a squeeze. Her fingers trembled—they must get this ordeal over with as quickly as possible.

“One cannot help but wonder why, if his story is true, Mr Reedman did not seek out his child’s mother, or his child, sooner. What manner of man waits until his former love is wed to another before coming forward?”

Reedman’s face darkened. “As you well know, Cavendish, I lost Seraphina.”

“And have you been scouring the country ever since, searching for her?”

Lord Hanley sat up straight and nodded. “You did not say that you had, Mr Reedman.”

Before Reedman could reply, Rowland interjected. “He could not have said that because it is untrue, and I am certain witnesses can be found to verify the fact. He has remained near his home in Gloucestershire, cooking up his vile schemes, and only set out to find Lady Cavendish after my brother-in-law stirred up a hornets’ nest in that county. He was trying to find my wife’s estranged family.”

All the colour drained from Reedman’s face. Rowland paused, puzzled. He’d expected anger, but what he saw instead was naked fear.

“And did he? I mean—I know nothing of her family. Why would I have anything to do with them? I eloped with their daughter—I could hardly expect a welcome there.”

Rowland felt Fina’s hand tremble and stroked her fingers reassuringly.

“This hardly shows you in a good light, Mr Reedman.” Lord Hanley’s voice had a hard edge to it. “I hope you have not brought me here on a wild goose chase. I do not enjoy being called to stand in judgement on my fellow magistrates, let alone my neighbours. Tell us why you wish to lay claim to your son now when you never did before.”

Reedman clasped his hands in his lap, but the whitening of his knuckles spoke volumes. “I am soon to be married.”

So—he didn’t want Fina back then. Rowland released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“The lady is—shall we say—most desirous of having a family, although she is no longer of childbearing age. It was fortuitous indeed that Mr Felix Ainsworth should be asking after Miss Hamilton at such a moment.”

So, it was all Felix’s fault, curse him. Rowland had warned him to be circumspect. “Very fortuitous, Mr Reedman,” he agreed, making no effort to hide his sarcasm.

“I suppose it is not unreasonable for Mr Reedman, under such circumstances, to wonder what had become of his child.”

“I have already told you what became of your child, Dundas,” Fina said, with all the haughty disdain that might be expected of a duke’s daughter. “She died in pain and misery because you abandoned us. I think the law should have something to say about that.”

Rowland rose. “This conversation is distressing my wife. Let us bring matters to a conclusion.” He reached for the bellpull. “I’ll have the nurse bring my son down, so we may prove to you beyond a doubt that he is mine.”

Fina gasped. “No, Rowland—you don’t have to do this. It’s not right that you should have to prove your innocence—that vile cur over there must prove your guilt.”

“Some things are more important than vanity.” Rowland smiled at her, and when a servant appeared in response to his summons, he sent her off to fetch Edgar and Clary Sage.

“Tell me, Mr Reedman—I daresay you think yourself a fine-looking fellow. Perfect in both form and mind?” He knew his expression was mocking, but he couldn’t help himself—the look of confusion on Reedman’s face was most entertaining.

“I am as God made me,” was the wary reply. “Some might call me handsome. I have no deformities if that’s what you mean.”

“Indeed? Nothing at all? No congenital weakness? No trait handed down in the family that you might expect to see in a child of yours?”

Reedman lifted his chin. “Of course not. I cannot account for Fina’s family, however, as I barely know them.”

“Good. Then you would not expect a child of yours to have a deformity such as this.” Rowland stripped off his gloves with a flourish and held his hands up, the bends in his little fingers plain to see.