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Wickham nodded, weary of the count’s threats. “Again, I apologise, Count Stefano.” Promptly, he changed the subject to his own concerns. “Now, all that is left is for you to procure the funds.”

Stefano said through clenched teeth, “The money will be yours when I take Elizabeth’s hand in mine. Not before.”

~~~*~~~

Having stopped just outside the open study door, Gwendolyn Waltham quietly made her way back to the foyer, hoping to clear the front door before being seen by anyone. She had swallowed her pride to call on the count, hoping to find he still had some interest in her. Now, thanks to her eavesdropping, she knew that Francesco was likely not the count’s real name since this man kept calling him Stefano, and that, whatever his name might be, he was leaving England forever with a wife she had not known about.

As she hurried along, Gwendolyn considered how this new information might be useful to her. She had no prospects for a new lover, and without being able to employ Lord Greenwich’s coattails to meet wealthy men, it would be more difficult to find suitable companionship. She knew, however, that she would never be welcomed by him again, not after the debacle with Fitzwilliam.

Damn Darcy’s lies! So he was sleeping with that woman all along!

~~~*~~~

Chapter 29

London

The Stanton Townhouse

The next day

Mr. Scroggins moved to stand behind his employer. His mind was fixed on the pistol in his waistband as he scowled at the two gentlemen confronting Lord Stanton in his study. He recognised Colonel Fitzwilliam from having seen him about Town, but before now, he had only heard of the tall, reticent Mr. Darcy who stood alongside Fitzwilliam. He left off studying Darcy, however, when the Colonel replied quite testily to Lord Stanton’s address.

“I care not for your diplomatic service or your reputation, Essex. My father has incontestable proof that your son, Stephen Arthur Stanton, is the man who took advantage of my cousin, Anne de Bourgh. He married and then abandoned her as soon as he drained her bank accounts. I assure you, it is to your advantage that my father agreed to let me negotiate this matter in his stead, as the Earl of Matlock is very displeased.”

Lord Stanton sighed, motioning towards some chairs. “Please, sit down. Can we not discuss this rationally? After all, my son is eight and thirty, and I have had no control over him in years. And at this moment, I am uncertain of his whereabouts.” Darcy nodded to Richard and everyone sat down.

Relieved that the Colonel had calmed, Stanton offered. “I would like to tell you about Stephen, as I feel you would understand the situation better if you knew his background. Would you agree to hear me out before we discuss the matter you have come to arbitrate?”

Richard crossed his arms. “We will hear you out, if you will answer our questions once you have finished.”

“That is my intention,” Frederick Stanton answered dryly.

William’s eyes flicked to Richard’s, and they shared a meaningful look—today they would know. Having listened last night to the investigator’s report on Anne’s husband that Richard’s father had commissioned, they both concluded that the man who married Anne and Count Stefano were likely one and the same. They had convinced the earl to let Richard handle the matter, as they did not want his father to learn of the possible link between Anne and Elizabeth.

Lord Stanton cleared his throat. “I cannot tell my son’s story without speaking of his mother. My wife, the Contessa Maria Issabetta de Cavour, and I met when I accompanied my father on a diplomatic mission to Italy. She was young and very beautiful, the daughter of a wealthy nobleman. Being not much older but quite foolish, I fell in love with her at first sight. Unfortunately, I did not realise that she was too immature to know her own mind or to move away from her family and her homeland. At that time, I thought love would conquer all, and we were married shortly before I was to return to England. Barely ten months later we were residing in Sheffield and awaiting the birth of Stephen.

“Being very spoiled, Maria never tried to adjust to England. She constantly cried to go home, and I indulged her by letting her visit for long periods of time during the first five years of our marriage. However, by the time Stephen was old enough to begin his education in earnest, she insisted he attend school in Italy. I disagreed. He and I were very close and, naturally, I wanted him educated here. I had hoped he might take over Northgate Manor, my family estate, when he was older. And, of course, I wished him to take his place among our equals in society.

“However, Maria was determined to return to her homeland with Stephen. When he was about seven, she succeeded in spiriting him out of the country while I was away on business. I tried to recover him from Italy, but it was made clear to me that I would never leave the country alive with Stephen in tow. Maria’s family has great influence there, so I had to settle for visits and letters. As the years went by, those visits were fewer, and his letters stopped altogether.

“Our relationship suffered, as you can imagine. Near Stephen’s eighteenth birthday, Maria’s father died, and Stephen inherited his title and properties. Maria insisted that he be known thereafter as Count Stefano Gianni Montalvo de Cavour, ignoring his given name and the title he would one day inherit from me. I had no say in the matter and, unfortunately, Stephen was more eager to please his mother as he and I were practically strangers.”

At the mention of Stephen’s Italian name, Richard observed that William’s eyes narrowed and his countenance darkened. He was beginning to wonder if bringing his cousin had been such a good idea. It had been a hard bargain talking his father into letting William and him handle the matter, and now it seemed his normally docile cousin was quickly becoming as infuriated as his father had been. Unaware of Richard’s concerns, Lord Stanton continued his narrative.

“Sometime after his twentieth birthday, my son turned up on the doorstep at Northgate. He voiced his desire to live with me, and we had a grand reunion. For the longest time, everything seemed to go smoothly—or perhaps I did not wish to see the problems that concerned members of my family and my staff. Numerous times, my loyal steward mentioned incidences of Stephen’s brutality regarding some of the animals on the estate. A beloved horse suffered a broken leg and had to be put down. My housekeeper’s cat, which he despised, was found drowned and he even went so far as to bludgeon one of my favourite fox hounds, claiming the dog had gone mad and attacked him.”

Lord Stanton was silent for a time, staring at something only he could see. “He always had a good explanation for his actions and, God help me, I wished to believe him.”

He sighed resignedly. “Nevertheless, things can only be rationalized for so long I suppose. Within the space of another year, I had heard one discouraging report after another concerning my son. Only now it involved young women—maids and such. I tried to reason with him, to tell him he should not trifle with the servants or any woman for that matter. I suggested that if he could not control his desires, he should find a proper young lady and marry. He laughed like a madman.” Stanton shook his head and repeated sombrely, “Like a madman.”

Seeming to recover, he continued, “That was when he declared that he could never marry one of those whores!”

At the shocked looks on the faces of his listeners, he clarified, “Those were his words, gentlemen, not mine. He went on to explain that he was already married and had fathered a child, a son, before coming back to England to escape a domineering wife.”

Richard started to voice his disgust, but was stopped by an outburst from his enraged cousin. Standing with balled fists and blazing eyes, William declared, “All this time! He has been trifling with the lives of innocent women, and he is married!”

Alarmed, Stanton stood too, blanching as Mr. Scroggins moved between himself and Darcy. Surprised at his cousin’s outburst and seeing the bodyguard’s nervous grasp on the handle of his pistol, Richard stood and stepped between them, facing William.