Summer's Distant Heart - Laura Landon Page 0,41

a mammoth sigh and swept a hand across his brow. “I’d been drinking. With some of the tenants. I said…” He paused, the look on his face showing his sickening realization of what he’d done.

“You said?” Hunter growled, not wanting to hear the explanation and at the same time desperate to know it.

“One of the hands asked when they might meet my grandson. Of course I said there was no grandson. Still, he…he seemed so sure. The bloke’s own brother was married to a woman who swore she’d given midwifery services to birth the future Earl of Atherton. Over in Middlechurch. It was impossible, don’t you see? Evan had just died. I was…I was angry that he’d left me without…” He looked at Hunter. “Without a suitable heir.”

Lia felt the room’s scrutiny as if it were she herself at whom every gaze was directed. But Hunter didn’t flinch.

“And?” Hunter prodded.

“I said as much. And I said it would be worth a hundred quid to me if that babe had never been born.” He dropped his chin. “That’s all I said.”

“That was enough,” Hunter groaned. “Enough to send five men to make an innocent babe disappear.”

Hunter stepped forward until he was just a pace from his father.

“Hear me now, old man,” Hunter said, his tone communicating the full measure of condemnation he intended. “Your careless brutality with words flogged me my whole life and nearly got your grandson killed. I had no choice but to believe you meant it.” He moved a half step closer and enjoyed the way his father shrank away. “In future, should anything happen to either the babe or to me, I would beseech these good people present tonight to seek out the cause of our deaths.”

“Surely you’re not insinuating that your father would intentionally harm you or his grandson?” the Duke of Natchess asked in disbelief.

“I am only asking for your assistance should anything suspicious happen to either of us.”

Lia watched the remaining color leave the Marquess of Trentridge’s face and his eyes widened in shame. Even so, he still managed to direct a goodly amount of scorn at his son. A lump formed in her chest and pressed painfully against her heart. No child should ever see that look from their parent.

With a jerk of his shoulders, Trentridge seemed to rally. “By God, how do I know this is my grandchild?” he blustered. “For all I know it’s some brat you stole from an orphanage.”

Such hateful words. Lia listened to Trentridge deny the existence of his own grandchild when it was obvious to anyone who knew the babe’s father that this was his son.

“This is your grandchild, Trentridge,” the dowager Viscountess Collinson announced. “I was witness to his birth, and to his mother’s death. She lived only long enough to see her son for the briefest of moments and bestow his name. You can be immensely grateful that his mother’s sister, my niece here, has cared for him like her own.”

Several of the women in the room dabbed at their eyes.

“If this is my grandchild, then I will take him.”

His words struck like a knife, and Lia felt her world crash around her. No, he couldn’t take the babe. That would be like signing his death warrant. She stepped close to Hunter and he put his arm around her to steady her.

“No, Father. You will not take the child. I have in writing from both his father and his mother that he is not to be raised by you, but by us.”

Spittle dripped from the corner of the old man’s mouth as he spat back. “Who? You? I’ve seen to it you don’t have a penny to your name. How the devil could you possibly raise a child worthy of carrying a title?”

“Now hold on, Trentridge.” Sir Henry Panden stepped forward from the fireplace where he’d been observing and commanded the attention of the room. “Rainwood is one of the most profitable estates in my valley. Why, Montclaire here has built an enviable success, and in just a few years, I might add. To my way of thinking, the boy couldn’t do better.”

Trentridge looked confused. “Rainwood? Never heard of it.”

“You will now, Father, because Rainwood is my home.” He turned to Lia. “Our home. Miss Amelia Halloway and I intend to marry and raise Evan and Janice’s son as our own. You see, my experience growing up in your care is far from recommendable. As you have refused to acknowledge me as your son or