by Cheryl Holt
“Godwin made me! He insisted you should forget about them! He consulted with experts. They all agreed.”
“I’m sure they would have, but for the moment, let’s leave Godwin out of it and focus on you.”
“What about me?”
“I’ll bet you enjoyed hurting them, for you’ve always enjoyed hurting me.” He stood and stared down at her, as if rendering judgment. “Go to your bedchamber and stay there. Your responsibilities in the manor have ended. I don’t wish to see you downstairs until it’s time for you to depart.”
“You’re locking me in my room as if I’m a…a…naughty child?”
“Yes, and please remain there. I’ll inform you when your new accommodations are arranged.”
“I don’t consent to this! I won’t participate!”
He leaned forward, palms on the desk. “I will locate my sisters or, if they’ve passed away, I’ll learn that too. If they died because of your malice, there will be a price to pay.”
“What price? What could you do to me that you haven’t already done?”
“If they’re deceased because of your nastiness and spite, you’ll receive nothing from me. As far as I’m concerned, you can camp in a ditch and beg for alms. So while you’re tucked away in your room, perhaps you should spend some hours praying that they’re all right.” He nodded to the door. “Now I’m sick of you. Get out of my sight.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m excited to be looking at you either.”
“Go!” he shouted with such intensity that she blanched as if he’d struck her.
For once in her miserable life, she heeded him. She jumped up and skittered away like a frightened rabbit.
* * * *
Percy pulled his hat low over his face and walked down the London wharf, searching for the correct ship. Several days earlier, he’d booked passage, and the cost was much more than he’d expected, but it had been worth every penny.
With Trevor’s perfidy revealed, his initial reaction had been stunned panic. The discovery had been so horrific that he’d fainted in the library at Selby.
For years, he’s had to scrimp, fabricate, and invent stories. When he’d been at Selby, he’d had to prance about like a single man with no obligations. When he’d been in town, he’d been weighed down by the severe weight of a wife and children he didn’t much care about and didn’t really want.
His paltry allowance had never been enough to support them, never enough to buy them what they needed. Pamela had wed him, thinking he’d become rich in the future. He was a Blake, so why wouldn’t she have thought that?
Susan’s fortune was to have been his escape route. He would have moved Pamela and the two girls into a house, with more space for the baby that was coming.
After he’d found out about Trevor, he’d considered murdering his brother, then courting Susan after she was a widow. He’d convinced himself he could have retrieved the dowry that way, but on further reflection, he’d realized—even though he’d love to kill his brother—he wouldn’t chase after the money simply to waste it on Pamela and her daughters.
And that’s how he viewed the girls: her daughters. Not his. He’d never meant to have children with her. As a young, randy buck, he’d lusted after her. That was it. He hadn’t signed on for home and hearth. He’d planned to continue on with his bachelor existence, but with her as his beautiful, sultry mistress. Clearly—from the outset—she’d had other ideas.
Their marriage was naught but a slog of drudgery, problems, and worries over their finances. Gradually, it had dawned on him that he couldn’t keep on. The stress was grinding him down. He’d regaled Pamela with fantastic tales about the funds that were vesting, the fun they would have with more to spend.
At having to tell her there was no money, no newer, bigger house, he’d been in a furious condition.
While he’d waited to hear how Nathan would deal with Trevor, he’d begun stealing various items from Selby that he could pawn. Mostly, he’d pilfered his mother’s jewelry boxes. She rarely wore any of the better pieces, and it would be an eternity before she noticed any of them were missing.
Through his thievery, he’d amassed a substantial pile of cash. It was plenty to start over somewhere else, and there had even been some extra to give to Pamela so she wouldn’t be left in the lurch. She was resourceful, and once she accepted that he’d vanished, she’d figure out how to carry on without him.
Did he feel guilty for abandoning her? No, he did not. Did he feel ashamed or remorseful? No, he did not. He’d never wanted to be a husband or a father, and he’d played the part for six grueling years. He was finished with all of it!
He passed a waterfront hotel, and he slipped inside and asked the man at the desk if he could leave a letter to go out in the next post. The man was obliging, and Percy handed it over. It would be delivered to Pamela in a few days, and it would explain what had occurred. She’d probably have to have a neighbor read it to her though. She wasn’t exactly smart enough to deduce his intent.
He strolled out, feeling lighter, as if he’d shed twenty pounds.
“Don’t look for me,” he murmured quietly. “Don’t try to find me. You never will.”
Those were the words he’d penned to her.
Up ahead, he finally saw his ship. He hefted his bag onto his shoulder and hurried toward it.
He’d been raised in one of the grandest manors in the kingdom, was used to the finest things in life, so it was interesting to learn how little a fellow required just to get by: a change of clothes, a coat, a second pair of boots, and a stack of coins in his purse.
The tide would turn in an hour, and the captain had warned him not to be late, that they delayed for no tardy passengers. Well, Percy was right on time.
He dashed to the gangplank, showed his papers to the sailor standing there, and climbed up to the deck.
* * * *
Pamela sat in the front parlor of her tiny apartment. Luckily, her daughters were napping, so she had a quiet interval to ponder Percy’s letter. She wasn’t the most literate person, so she didn’t precisely comprehend what she’d read, but it seemed as if he’d left her.
“Bastard!” she mumbled to the empty room.
When she’d met him at the theater, so far in the past that it might have been ancient history, she’d been searching for a rich nob to support her. She’d been so shrewd in her planning. How could it have all gone so wrong?
Like the other boisterous young dandies who’d rushed to see her sing and dance, Percy hadn’t received an inheritance yet, but she’d been positive he’d eventually have one. He’d always claimed he would, and she’d chosen to believe him.
She’d picked him because of his wealthy, important family, but also because he was incredibly handsome. He’d given her beautiful daughters—as she’d suspected he would.
Apparently, he’d written to inform her that he’d sailed away from England a few days earlier, and she wondered if that was true. Might he—right that very moment—be loafing at Selby and convinced she’d never check?
Well, it might be time to finally travel to Selby. He’d constantly begged her not to, insisting it was pointless to quarrel with his mother, and she’d been happy to stay away. She’d battled with the old bat, Edwina Blake, on one hideous occasion, and it had been her specific goal to never speak to the wicked witch again.
Clearly, she had to seek her out. Surely even a shrew like Edwina would hate to have her grandchildren living on the streets.
She gaped at the bank draft he’d sent. It was a piece of paper she could exchange for real money, but she couldn’t imagine how to accomplish it. She dithered over who, out of all her acquaintances, might be able to explain how a woman walked into a fancy bank and turned it into currency.
If she couldn’t figure out how, she and her daughters would be in trouble very fast, which provided an added incentive to journey to Selby. She and Percy had never asked the Blakes for any assistance. They’d been determined to shun Edwin
a, to show that they didn’t need her.
For years, they’d carried on just fine on their own, but Pamela was desperate, and she wasn’t too proud to demand Edwina aid them.
A knock sounded on the door, and her initial impulse was to ignore it, but her visitor knocked again, harder, and she was afraid he’d wake the girls.
She rose and went to peek out, and a dark-haired man was standing in the hall. Her primary concern was that he might be from the landlord. Had Percy failed to pay the rent before he departed? Had he been that greedy? That selfish? Would they be evicted immediately?
But as she studied him, it was obvious his clothes were too expensive for him to be a bill collector.
“May I help you?” she inquired.
“Miss Pomeroy? Miss Pamela Pomeroy?”
“I used to be Miss Pomeroy. Now it’s Blake. Pamela Blake.”
The man gawked at her as if she had blue skin or purple hair. Looking stunned, he repeated, “Pamela Blake? Is that what you said?”
“Yes. My husband is Mr. Percival Blake, of the Selby Blakes. He’s first cousin to the Earl.”
He blanched and muttered, “I’ll be damned. Percy married you?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago.”
“It’s been almost seven years.”
“Can you prove it?” he rudely asked.
“I won’t dignify that question with a reply.”
He sputtered with amusement. “Pardon me for my horrid manners, but I’m Nathan Blake, Lord Selby. I’m Percy’s cousin.”
Of course he was. She could see the resemblance, and a kernel of excitement ignited in her breast. “I’m aware of who you are, Lord Selby.”
“I don’t mean to be discourteous, Mrs. Blake, but you’ve taken me by surprise. I’m astonished to hear that Percy is your husband. I had no idea.”
She scowled. “He never told you?”
“No.”
“Who did you think I was?”
“May I be blunt?”
“Certainly.”
“His mistress. When his mother refused her permission for you to wed, I assumed he persisted with your affair merely to spite her. I didn’t realize he’d had the audacity to actually marry you.”
“The whole time, I thought all of you knew.”
“He lied to you.” He gestured into the sitting room. “May I come in? You and I need to talk.”
“Yes, yes, please come in.”
She opened the door wide, and he stepped in, his astute gaze assessing her meager abode. He was accustomed to grandeur, so she understood how he’d view her paltry lodging, but she wouldn’t hang her head in shame.
She’d gotten by the best she could with the funds Percy supplied. He’d never had much money, or if he did have some, he hadn’t shared it with her. And in light of his failure to inform his family of their marriage, she had to admit that there might be many things about him that were untrue.
“Have you seen Percy lately?” she asked. “Is he at Selby?”
“No, I haven’t seen him in ages, so I figured he was here with you. It’s why I stopped by. I have to speak with him.”
She retrieved Percy’s letter and handed it over. “I think he’s left me. In fact, I think he’s left England.”
Lord Selby perused the words Percy had penned, then he muttered again, “I’ll be damned.”
“He was supposed to inherit recently. From a trust fund? But he claimed there was a problem, so he didn’t receive it. Is that correct or not? If he received it, shouldn’t I have the right to request that some of the funds be provided to me?”
Lord Selby frowned. “He told you he had a trust fund?”
“Ah…yes?”
“There was no trust fund, but do you ever read the newspapers, Mrs. Blake?”
“No, my lord.” Her cheeks flushed bright red. “I’m not much of a reader. Why?”
“I hate to tell you this, but you might have stumbled on the announcement of his betrothal.”
“His betrothal!” she huffed. “How could he engage himself? He’s already married.”
“So I see, Mrs. Blake. So I see. He was scheduled to wed an heiress. That’s the fortune he was expecting.”
She felt as if he’d punched her. Even for unhappy, discontented Percy, the scheme was bizarre. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“No. He was fully intending to wed someone else.”
“But…but…that’s deranged!”
“I have to agree.”
“He’d have had two wives. What’s that called? Bigamy?”
“Yes, that’s what it is.”
“Isn’t it against the law?”
“It’s a very serious crime.”
She showed him the bank draft. “He enclosed this with the letter. Might you assist me in changing it into hard money?”
He scrutinized it, then sighed, “Yes, but it’s not much. It won’t last long.”
“I know it won’t. When you knocked, I had just decided to travel to Selby to confer with my mother-in-law.”
His brows flew up. “You were going to visit Edwina?”
“Yes. I don’t like her, but it appears I’m in dire straits. I was hoping pity for my daughters might spur her to charity.”
“It wouldn’t. Trust me. She’s not a person to worry about anyone’s children.”
“They’re her grandchildren.”
“She wouldn’t think so.”
“What am I to do then, Lord Selby? You’re my cousin-in-law, and I have no one but you to counsel me. What would you advise?”
As she posed the question, she laid a protective hand over her belly, as if shielding her unborn babe. He noticed the defensive motion and immediately recognized what it indicated.
“You’re increasing again?” he asked.
“Yes,” and though she didn’t mean it, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m sure Percy was quite involved in its creation.”
“Yes, he was!” She bristled, reflecting on how often she’d spread her legs, but for so little reward!
Her temper was sparking, but she tamped it down. Lord Selby seemed very kind, which was vastly at odds from how Percy had described him. In Percy’s accounts, his cousin was vain, lazy, imperious, and stingy, a greedy miser who wouldn’t furnish a penny to his poorer, less fortunate relatives.
Yet Pamela didn’t perceive any of those negative attributes. So far, she was impressed and a tad in awe. He was listening to her and fretting over her fate.
“How many children do you have already?” he asked. “Two?”
“Yes, and a third on the way.”
“It’s clear, Mrs. Blake, that my cousin is a bounder and a scoundrel, and you are a victim of his misdeeds.”
“No offense, my lord, but if I had a pistol, and he walked in this very second, I might shoot him right between the eyes.”
She’d specifically picked Percy, deeming it a shrewd financial step that would have paid off eventually, but she’d understood that he was ashamed of her.
Not that he’d ever stated it aloud, but she wasn’t stupid. They had no friends. They’d never socialized in any location where he might have had to introduce her to an acquaintance. She’d noted—as time had ticked by—how wretched he’d been, how trapped he’d felt.
Well, she hadn’t exactly floated free herself. Talk about being trapped! She’d kill him if she could!
At hearing her comment about Percy, Lord Selby chuckled. “I’d like to murder him too. I can’t believe he did any of this. No, no, I take that back. I can absolutely believe it. He was always a horse’s ass.”
“In the beginning, I didn’t think so, but from what I’ve learned about him over the years, I can’t argue the point.”
He studied the squalid surroundings, studied her, peeked at her tummy where a bulge was definitely visible. She was very still, eager for him to voice what was on his mind. It was obvious a plan was forming.
“I have a proposition for you,” he ultimately said.
“I’m all ears, my lord. What is it?”
“I visited you to inform Percy that he wouldn’t be welcome at Selby anymore.”
“Why not?”
“His brother, Trevor, eloped with his…ah…his betrothed, which she plainly couldn’t have been because he was already married, so I’m not certain what to call her. But it’s why Percy never received the money he’d been bragging about. His brother snagged his heiress right out from under his nose.”
“Good. I’m glad,” Pamela seethed. “What was her name?”
“Susan.”
“I always hated that name.”
Her remark stymied him. He hesitated, then forged ahead, determined to push through the awkward discussion. “Anyway, I’ve invited Trevor and his bride to live at Selby with me, so Percy can’t come back there. It would have stirred too many problems.”
She snorted with disgust. “I suppose it would have.”
“I had decided he would have to move to town permanently—with his mother. I have my own issues with her, so she can’t stay at Selby either. I’m buying them a house, but apparently, Percy won’t be using it.”
“But his mother will be?”
“Yes. She’s refusing to leave Selby, but in the end, she will behave as I bid her. In the meantime, I’m worried about you and your children. It seems as if my family owes you some assistance.”
“I’m grateful you feel that way, my lord.”
She dipped into a curtsy, not out of deference, but to hide her relief. She’d never be able to sufficiently thank him, but she didn’t want him to presume she was groveling or fawning. She suspected he wouldn’t like it.
“We’ll have none of that.” His tone was scolding, and he clasped her hand and raised her to her feet. “As I mentioned, I have a proposition for you. It will be hard to manage, but it might provide some satisfaction too. You haven’t been treated very well by Percy or Edwina. It might give you a bit of revenge on them.”
“I wouldn’t mind some revenge—so long as my girls are safe.”
“They’ll be safe. Now let me explain what I’m planning, then you can tell me what you’d like to do.”
