Page 17 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“It does seem odd,” Nathan agreed. “And why did he come to me? Why didn’t he simply hire a lawyer and pursue his legal rights in court? I could understand if he wanted to get to know our side of the family—I am his half brother if what he says is true. I could even see him shoving it right in my face because he was angry and resentful. But he didn’t convey either of those feelings in his manner. He seemed most interested in trying to come across as reasonable and genteel.”

“Precisely. My opinion is that he wants to blackmail you. That conciliatory manner...giving you time ‘to think about it’ and then ‘discuss it later.’ Saying he only wants ‘what’s fair.’ He wants you to brood about the scandal, about your mother’s feelings and the horror of a public lawsuit. About having everything, as you said, snatched away from you. He’s counting on your being willing to make any immediate financial agreement with him in order to avoid it all. He will come to you and offer to settle the matter like a gentleman and accept some amount of money, and no one will ever need to know. He’ll call it a reasonable agreement. It’s blackmail.”

“I’m not about to give in to blackmail.” Nathan’s eyes flashed. “Malcolm’s fair and far off if he thinks I won’t fight him on this. I don’t believe him. I can’t believe it of my father. Yes, perhaps he kept a secret or two, but they were minor things, things he would have told me if he hadn’t died so young. But deceiving everyone for thirty some-odd years? He couldn’t have carried it off even if he’d wanted to. Even Lady Lockwood knew nothing about it.”

Verity smiled faintly. “Then it couldn’t have happened.”

Her statement won a rueful smile from Nathan. “Indeed.”

“I’ll go to this church tomorrow. Even if—”

“We’ll go to this church,” Nathan put in. “I’m going with you. It’s my mystery to solve, after all.”

Verity would enjoy his presence, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “Oh, so you don’t trust me?”

He scowled. “Of course I trust you. What a thing to say. I was the one who stood up for you when Sloane and Annabeth were wondering whether you were the traitor. I told them you were trustworthy. I would have thought that would have given me some credit with you.”

His response surprised Verity. She had expected to rouse in Nathan the usual sort of polite irritation at her needling him. But this had obviously touched a sore point. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should not have said that.”

Now he was the one who looked astonished. “You’re apologizing?”

“Yes, I know. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event, so you should enjoy it,” she told him wryly.

“Verity. I am aware that you don’t like me, but surely you know that I am not untrustworthy or deceitful.”

“No! I don’t dislike you. I’ve never dis—” When he raised an eyebrow, she went on, “Yes, all right. Maybe I didn’t like you much when I first met you. But that was just because you were a member of the ton. And you were always so amiable and polite.”

“Yes, those are qualities that often offend people.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You know what I mean. You were too proper. You never raised your voice, you were never mean or petty. You didn’t even tell Lady Lockwood to fire me for my impudence even though I was a bit rude to you.”

“A bit?” Nathan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You were the most unmannerly maid I’ve ever seen, but I wasn’t going to try to get you tossed out just because you didn’t like me. Besides, one doesn’t tell Lady Lockwood to do anything.”

“True.” She smiled. “I thought you must be hiding something, acting a part. But after a while I realized that you simply were that kind—I am sure your servants must take terrible advantage of you.”

“Nonsense. I’m a tyrant at home.”

“Mmm-hmm. You keep believing that,” Verity said, feeling relieved. They were back on an even keel. “I am sorry I took that jab at you. I know you stood up for me back then, and I appreciate that now still.”

“Well, it was simply the truth.” He seemed a trifle embarrassed now. “Besides I’m aware of how unfair it feels to have people believe you are capable of misdeeds that would never even cross your mind.”

“You’d be amazed how little the truth factors into what people say,” she told him. “Anyway, I was only teasing you.” She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d teased him mostly to hide her pleasure that he wanted to accompany her to the church. Showing one’s emotions always meant giving some part of one’s power over to another, even if it was only a small measure. But that was not the sort of thing that Nathan Dunbridge would understand. He was always so authentically himself. Not trying to posture or put something over on her. It was refreshing. “And what do you mean? Who has ever thought you capable of misdeeds?”

“When Gil, Noelle’s son, was being targeted, it was by my solicitor. The man did his best to make people believe it had been me trying to harm the boy.” Nathan’s brows knitted together.

“Someone thought you could harm Gil?” Verity goggled. “What idiocy. You’re like an uncle to him.”

“The evidence pointed to me. I can’t really blame them.”

“Annabeth doubted you? Mr. Thorne?”

“No, I don’t think Annabeth believed it for a moment. Carlisle said he didn’t, but I could see the lurking doubt in his eyes. No one wanted to believe it. They were torn. But still they suspected me. And Carlisle is my oldest friend. The fact that the thought even crossed his mind...it was logical, though.”

“He is a fool, then. I wouldn’t have believed you’d hurt Gil for a second, and I haven’t known you all my life. You know, I could have Mrs. Malloy put the fear of God in Carlisle if you want.”

“I wouldn’t want her to damage a knitting needle.” Nathan’s eyes twinkled. “Besides, he was only following the direction the clues led—it’s understandable.”

“You can understand something and still be angry about it.” Verity reached for Nathan’s hand.