“She does you proud, Ralph,” Hugo agreed. “Since you have persuaded us to stay another day, Vince and I are going to explore the park this morning, if we may. His dog will make sure we do not get lost in all the vastness. Is there any particular feature we ought to see?”
“I could hear what sounded like a waterfall yesterday when we were out at the chapel,” Vincent said. “We will find that, Hugo.”
“There is a lake, is there not?” George asked. “Lady Keilly, Lady Harrison, you must be familiar with the park. Would you care to show me the way while Hugo and Vincent strike out on what sounds like a more strenuous search for the waterfall?”
Ralph looked with gratitude from one to the other of his friends, who had deflected the conversation away from Chloe and her red hair. He wished there was more time to spend with them than just today and was tempted to ignore his other responsibilities and lead the way to the falls himself. But they were not the only ones who would be gone tomorrow.
The gentlemen rose to their feet as his grandmother, his great-aunt, and Mrs. Nelson came into the dining room.
“Lady Trentham’s maid is at work upon Chloe’s hair,” Great-Aunt Mary reported. “Lady Trentham swears that she is competent with the scissors. The consolation is that the girl certainly cannot make Chloe look worse than she looked when we knocked upon your bedchamber door, Ralph. Someone fetch me coffee before I expire.”
Ralph saw that his grandmother was looking wan but composed this morning. He wondered if the worst was behind her or ahead of her. He strongly suspected the latter and hoped for the former.
“Sir,” Ralph said, addressing Sir Kevin Muirhead, “may I offer you another cup of coffee in the study?”
They discussed the marriage settlement, even though the marriage had already been solemnized. Ralph wanted to assure his father-in-law, and to commit it to writing, that Chloe and any children of their marriage would be well cared for while he lived and properly provided for after his death.
“You have been more than generous, considering the fact that I am able to offer only a modest dowry,” Sir Kevin said when all had been settled. “I have been worried about Chloe for the past several years. I was even more worried when I learned of her hasty marriage, but you have set my mind at ease. At least, I believe you have. Why did you marry her, Worthingham?”
The question took Ralph by surprise.
“I am the last of my line, sir,” he explained. “One would have to climb quite high into the family tree to find a branch upon which there is another male heir. It was my duty to marry and set up my nursery, and my grandfather’s deteriorating health imposed some urgency upon me even though I am only twenty-six. I met your daughter here a couple of weeks ago and . . .” No, he could not bring himself to say he had fallen violently in love with her. It would be a patent lie. “I considered her an eligible wife. She is a little older and more mature than any of the young ladies I had met in London. She is beautiful—not that looks were a primary concern with me. She is a lady of birth and breeding. I asked and she accepted.”
“It all happened very quickly,” her father said. “Did she tell you anything of her . . . past?”
Ralph leaned forward slightly over his desk. “All but the name of the bounder who jilted her so cruelly after your younger daughter eloped with Nelson,” he said, “and who told her she could easily pass for a courtesan. Who was he, sir? Who is he?”
“Lord Cornell?” Sir Kevin raised his eyebrows. “I would have refused my permission anyway if he had asked to marry Chloe. I had already suggested to my wife that she discourage the connection. He was a notorious womanizer. I doubt he would have asked, however. Marriage is too burdensome a leg shackle for gentlemen such as he.”
Ralph had a slight acquaintance with Baron Cornell. A fine physical specimen of manhood, he was said to delight in breaking female hearts and then boasting of his conquests. Poor innocent twenty-one-year-old Chloe had believed him to be a serious suitor for her hand.
“And she told me what happened last year.” Ralph watched the older man closely.
“Ah. That was all most unfortunate,” Sir Kevin said with affected unconcern. “She bore a certain resemblance to a nobly born young lady, I understand, and tongues wagged as tongues will. It is a pity Chloe took fright and ran home, though. Her actions merely fanned the flames of baseless gossip. But she has always been oversensitive to the opinions of others.”
“Sir.” Ralph fingered the edges of the desk blotter. “I wish you will tell me whether there is any truth in those rumors. Is there any possibility, or even a certainty, that Chloe is the natural daughter of the Marquess of Hitching? I assure you your answer will go no farther than this room unless you yourself choose to repeat it. I would appreciate knowing the truth. It will make no difference to my relationship with the duchess, but I would know my heirs’ forebears.”
“Of course there is no truth in them.” His father-in-law sat abruptly back in his chair on the other side of the desk and glared at Ralph for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he looked downward. There was a rather lengthy silence. “I loved her mother from the moment I first set eyes upon her, and she had a regard for me. But she was dazzled . . . Well, what young lady would not have had her head turned by the determined attentions of a nobleman who was young and well favored? It was all over very soon. She loved me for the rest of her life. Anyone would tell you the truth of that. But she was honest with me when she came to sit beside me at a concert one evening after avoiding me for a few weeks. She feared she might be with child, she told me. We married a few days later by special license, and Chloe was born a little over seven months after that. She was a small baby. Her birth was premature—or so everyone was happy to believe, myself included, for my wife had not been sure. I loved that child when she was in the womb and after she was born. I have always loved her, just as I love Lucy and Graham. It makes no difference to me who provided the seed.”