And the idea of housing Danny and Daniel in the front bedroom turned her stomach.
Daniel considered his lordship, who looked all too dear and hard to read in his rocking chair. “My horse is enjoying the viscount’s accommodations as we speak, so perhaps Danny and I had best do likewise.”
This was no relief, not when Letty hadn’t seen Danny for months. “As you wish.”
She wanted to argue, wanted to point out that with her secrets splattered all about like an upended tea tray, she no longer had a reason to tolerate separation from her son.
Except, she had a reason. For Danny’s sake, she would not start ranting and weeping—again.
Danny joined them for the meal, volubly excited to be at table with guests, and to have his Aunt Letty as his hostess, which was a small consolation.
“London is muddy, wet, and cold, but I don’t want to go home,” Danny announced, shooting an anxious glance at Daniel.
“We won’t be going home tonight, Danny,” Daniel explained. “We will ride in Viscount Fairly’s coach and stay at his house, where Zubbie is staying.”
“Will we see Aunt Letty again soon?” Danny asked, fiddling with his potatoes.
“We will see her tomorrow. Now eat your potatoes, and there might be some pudding for well-behaved young men from Little Weldon.”
The exchange was prosaic, and yet, in Letty’s wildest, most irrational moments, she never would have guessed she’d one day have her brother and son sharing a table with her—and David. And yet, Letty kept missing parts of the conversation, turning over in her mind how willing she’d been to believe Olivia’s venom and mischaracterization. Very likely, Daniel, who was married to the woman, was experiencing the same sort of consternation.
Several times, Letty caught herself staring into space, preoccupied with odd memories, times when Daniel had looked puzzled by a remark she’d made, times when he’d not responded as she’d expected to something she’d said.
Daniel, too, dropped out of the general discussion at odd moments to stare at his plate. David took up the burden of keeping the child entertained, though Danny was tiring.
“Might I suggest,” David said when the trifle had been served, “that I take Danny with me to Tatt’s tomorrow? They won’t be holding a sale, but I’d like to have a look at some of the new stock, and Tatt’s is a stop a young man ought to make when he comes up to Town.”
Whom was he asking? Letty, as the child’s mother, or Daniel, as the man who’d raised the boy since birth?
“I would appreciate some time to visit with my sister,” Daniel said. “You’ll have to watch Danny, though. He’s spent a lot of time with my gelding, Beelzebub, who’s a hotheaded young fellow, but Danny’s lively, and he’s only five—”
All boys should be lively, though Letty did not argue with her brother, not when David was regarding her with amused eyes.
“How many am I up to now, Letty?” he asked. “Three nieces and four nephews, of some sort, all under the age of seven? Danny and I will manage splendidly, won’t we?”
Danny’s answer was obscured by his yawn, which prompted the departure of the menfolk for David’s town house. As they assembled at Letty’s front door, Daniel leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“We’ll get this sorted out, Letty. I won’t go back to Little Weldon until we do.”
Some comfort there, though Daniel’s position had been all too clear when he’d announced that he loved the boy as if he were his own.
“Good night, Letty.” David kissed her cheek as well, causing Letty to start, then blush and fix a stare on the little silver angel, whose wings she’d taken to polishing for luck. “I will see you tomorrow when Danny and I drop the vicar off, say, around eleven of the clock?”
Fourteen hours. She could manage to part with her son for another fourteen hours—and her brother, and David.
She tousled Danny’s hair, though he dozed so contently against Daniel’s shoulder his eyes didn’t even open. “That will serve, and perhaps you’ll stop by on your way home?”
“Of course.” He offered her one of his golden, beaming, special smiles. A smile that warmed the spirit with kindness and understanding, that offered a sense of sincere and personal appreciation.
She had been dying, dying, for want of the sight of one of those smiles. She went up on tiptoe to return his kiss—while Daniel nuzzled Danny’s crown—and then ushered her guests out to their coach.
In the silence that followed their departure, Letty felt weightless. She had seen her son, and acknowledged him as her son before David, and David had not raised even an eyebrow. And the rest of it, the abandonment of her only child, the terrible deception she’d perpetrated on Daniel regarding her livelihood, and the even worse deception Olivia had perpetrated on them all… David had listened, and calmly assisted her and Daniel to sort out the tangled threads of truth.
More sorting lay ahead, between her and Daniel, and between her and David. Most especially, she had sorting out to do with her son, for no power on earth would compel her to return the child to Olivia’s care.
Still, for all that was yet unresolved, Letty felt for the first time in years more hope than despair. She’d seen her son, her brother, and the man she loved sit down at the same table and break bread together.
It was a start. Where it might lead, she could not say, but it was a start.
Fifteen
“Tuck him in,” David suggested, nodding at Danny where he drowsed on Banks’s shoulder. “Then join me in the library, if you don’t mind?”
Banks’s hand absently rubbed the boy’s back as he carried him up the stairs, the child clearly a familiar and treasured burden. Danny roused enough to lift a hand and offer a sleepy grin to David in parting. David winked at the child and left father and son—uncle and nephew—to their bedtime ritual while he enjoyed a few minutes of solitude in the library.
He built up the fire then took a perch on the sofa, his thoughts running riot in the quiet and shadows.
Douglas had been right: Letty had been protecting a son, a brother, and David himself, and the threat Daniel’s wife wielded was still real. While David could easily provide for Letty and the child, the scandal of the situation for a man of the cloth was something to be reckoned with.
His musings were interrupted by Banks’s arrival to the library.
“Danny is asleep?”
“Out like a candle,” Banks said. “He’s such a good child, and this—”
“This will mean complications for him. Might I offer you a drink while we consider the situation?”
“You may, though these are hardly your problems to consider.”
The vicar did not lack for tenacity or courage, and he was protective of his sister. David filled two glasses with brandy. “This will take any lingering chill off,” he said, handing Banks a drink. “And in my household, we don’t particularly stand on ceremony, so you’ll pardon me if I take my boots off and put my feet up.”
Banks shrugged and did likewise, sitting some distance away from David on the couch.
“My lawfully wedded wife,” Banks mused, “would scold me vociferously for putting my feet up on the furniture, setting a bad example for Danny, allowing disrespectful informality to sneak into a godly household. To realize I have married a worse incarnation of my own father is a… lowering development.”
“What would you like to do about her?” David had a few suggestions, which when implemented, would break at least one signal commandment.
“What I would like to do would require penance until my dying day—and it might even hasten that.”
Agreement in principle, then.
“You might be able to send her to jail. In whose name was the bank account kept?”
“Mine. The banker was a member of the congregation, Olivia had handled the church money for years, and to all appearances
, I’m sure my signature will be found on any relevant documents.”
Well, damn. “What are your other options?”
“Why do you care?” The question was curious rather than rude, or perhaps exhausted rather than rude.
“You are the victim of several serious deceptions,” David said, “and out of a simple instinct for justice, this rankles. You are also Letty’s brother, she loves you, and you made a good faith attempt to help her when her own father would not have been so kind. But for you, Letty could have died of the pox in the gutters of London before her son was two years old—and he along with her.”
“Do you really own a brothel?” Banks asked, apropos of nothing, except perhaps a rural vicar’s curiosity.
“I inherited one, and Letty was the manager there for a few months. She had no duties above stairs, if you take my meaning. If you have further questions on this topic, they’re for you and her to discuss.”
Banks took his first sip of the liquor, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the back of the couch. “We haven’t spirits such as this in Little Weldon.”
The observation bore some significance David could not grasp. “My brother-in-law owns a distillery or two in Scotland, and some vineyards in Germany and Portugal—or possibly France. Demon drink is quite profitable.”
“How many titles does your family hold?” Banks asked without opening his eyes, though David had purposely not mentioned Heathgate’s title.
“I am but a viscount,” David said. “One sister married a marquess; the other married his brother, the Earl of Greymoor. Their cousin married a brother of my younger sister’s first husband, Viscount Amery. That makes four, including mine.”
And Rose’s grandfather was the much-respected Duke of Moreland, though no blood relation to David himself.
“Only four.” Banks took another small sip of his drink, eyes still closed. “We can go three years in Little Weldon without seeing anything more impressive than the local squires in their hunting pinks. How did you and Letty meet?”
David had not anticipated these questions, though a vicar would be adept at coaxing confessions from those who clutched their sins tightly. The fire sent shadows flickering against the cupids above, while David debated whose story this was to tell.
Perhaps the tale was easier to hear from someone besides Letty.
“Letty was mistress to the present Viscount Amery’s older brother, Herbert, who was married to my younger sister. I called upon Letty to ask her about Herbert’s finances upon his death.”
“Why would she know anything about that?”
Abruptly, David felt not merely tired and bemused, but aged as a function of experiencing too much wickedness.
“Mistresses hear all sorts of things that wives do not. Herbert’s estate was left in significant disarray as a result of his bad management. He was, however, generous with Letty, even giving her some of the estate jewelry. She returned it to the man’s surviving brother when she realized what had transpired.”
“She would. Did you know this man, this late Viscount Amery?”
Not well enough, considering the bastard had made David’s younger sister miserable. “He was my brother-in-law for the last two years of his life.”
“He was not kind to your sister, not in the ways that count,” Banks concluded with what was probably clerical instinct. “A woman should not have to tell her brother some things, but my wife, and indirectly I myself, forced Letty into these circumstances. I would rather know how much I have to atone for.”
The entire discussion had taken place in a room illuminated by little more than the fire in the hearth, and yet there was light enough for David to see that Banks had tears on his damned handsome cheeks.
“I have sisters,” David said as he handed Banks his handkerchief.
“And yet you own a brothel. Do you tell yourself those women secretly enjoy what they do?”
“I am ending my association with the brothel and ensuring any of the women employed there have the means to do the same if they so choose.” If the notion had been tentative, it was plain fact now. He and Bridget were in negotiations. “And for your information, Vicar, a few of them do enjoy what they do, though not as many as the patrons would like to think.”
Or did they learn to appear to enjoy what they did, because the alternative was hurling a knife across the kitchen at their employer?
Rather than endure more of Banks’s questioning, David went on the offensive. “You’ve yet to decide what you will do about your wife.”
“God help me.” Banks lifted his glass in a mock salute. “Didn’t see that one coming, Lord Fairly. Well done.”
“Letty will want to know, and I don’t think she’ll allow Olivia anywhere near Danny, even if you might consider it.” David had the influence and determination to ensure Letty’s wishes were respected, too.
“I would not consider it. In fact, Olivia shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near me.”
Letty’s brother was not so very hard to like after all. “Olivia has much to answer for.”
“My father was not in favor of the match. He refused to attend the ceremony, and was quite vocal on the matter. I’ve never known quite why, but I suppose he’s vindicated on this count too.”
“What do you mean, on this count too?”
“He didn’t want me going into the church. Thought I was too stubborn to accept the hierarchy, and now, I can see that was probably something he struggled with.”
A log burned through on the hearth, sending a shower of sparks upward, leaving less illumination than before. “Odd, isn’t it, how we come to understand our fathers only after they’re no longer about to hear our apologies?”
“They know. Somehow, I think they do know. Our mamas too.”
“As we will one day.”
“You, perhaps.” Banks swirled his drink, holding the glass under his perfectly proportioned nose. “I doubt I will ever have children of my own.”
“Because you are not in charity with your wife, or because she is barren?”
“Neither,” Banks replied, heaving to his feet and fetching the decanter. “I am the one who… I don’t even know what the word is for a man who is barren.”
“Sterile.” A terrifying word to most men. “What makes you think it’s you?”
“Measles. A serious case, shortly before I married. The physician told me my wife might have difficulty conceiving. It doesn’t make any difference now,” Banks said, lowering himself back to the couch. “I wouldn’t touch the woman again if she begged me.”
And abruptly, the conversation had reached truly difficult ground. “So you will live apart from her, raising Danny on your own?”
“I don’t know,” Banks said softly. “I love that child, and because I love him, this continued deception of him sits ill with me.”
As it did with David, for as a child, David had understood much that no adult had ever explained to him—all of it painful.
“You think Danny knows you are not his papa? He seems to love you, and to regard Letty as his aunt.” And how hard was it for Letty, to be only an aunt?
“When I explained to him that Olivia had to go away for a long visit, he offered one word in reaction: ‘Good.’”
Brilliant child. “So he doesn’t like his supposed mother, but Olivia doesn’t sound very likable in general.”
“Now she isn’t, but ten years ago, she was a different woman.”
“Was she?” David mused. “Or were you more easily deceived? I married young, and my bride turned out to be a very different person as a wife than she was as a fiancée. Her death spared us both a lifetime of making each other miserable.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, and sorry your experience of marriage was so trying.”
The saintly bastard offered the most genuine condolences David had received, and maybe
the most timely, too. “I assume you will send Olivia packing to her family?” Though even the north country was not as far as the woman deserved to be banished.
“I don’t know. Olivia deserves punishment for this—her actions affected Letty, who was still very much an innocent at the time. They affected me and Danny, both of whom she ought to have loved. They affected my standing with my congregation, or so I was informed even before all of this business came to light. My very profession is jeopardized, too.”
For all his fatigue, and for all the developments of the day, Banks was still thinking with brutal clarity.
“In what regard? You meant well.”
“Those words—I meant well—they pave the road to hell, at least in the eyes of the church. My bishop is a good sort, and he will not personally condemn me for trying to raise my sister’s child as my own. He will, however, have no patience with this whole Ladies’ Charitable Guild fund, or the fact that I refuse to live with my wife hereafter.”
“Don’t be too hasty. If the account was only in your name, and the only deposits came from Letty, the church has no involvement in it.”
“You’re shrewd.” A compliment, not an accusation. “Do you engage in trade?”
“I wallow in it.” Or tried to lose himself in it. Lately, Jennings’s reports had been sadly neglected. “I’m also wallowing in filthy lucre as a result. You should be aware that because Letty saved my life, I was able to impose a substantial financial settlement on her before we parted.”
Not substantial enough, though. Not nearly substantial enough for a mother and her child.
“I am confused.” Banks uncrossed his feet and crossed them the other way. “I was under the impression that she… that you and she… Oh, bother, just what went on between you two?”
The answer to that would take all night. “You came to London in the midst of a deluge to call me out, Banks. Do I see equivocation here?”
“Fleeting humility. Enjoy it while it lasts, and answer the question. I could still call you out. Will you marry my sister?”
David Page 28
