of the grieving widow. She was terrified enough to play the role without any effort.
“May I ask you a question,” she said, lifting her watery gaze.
“Yes, my lady.”
My lady. It would have been Janice’s place to be spoken to in such elegant terms. The very idea brought her loss very close to the surface and sent a tear to trickle down her cheek.
“Did he…did Evan suffer at the end?”
“No, my lady. He did not.”
“I’m glad,” she answered, even though she believed he was lying to her. Perhaps there was a softness in him somewhere, although from every indication if there was, it was hidden perilously deep.
“Did he die alone?”
He drew a deep breath. “No, my lady. I was with him when he died.”
“Thank you,” she answered. “I would hate to think that he died alone.”
Lia couldn’t stand his evaluative stare and rose to her feet. She walked to the window and stared out into the garden. Summer was in its full glory. Color filled the garden and climbed the stone walls that enclosed it.
Janice had loved the out-of-doors. She’d spent hours in the garden while waiting for her child to be born. She’d been so excited not only for the babe’s arrival, but for the man she loved to come for her at Christmas. She never doubted that he would. She never lost faith in the love they shared for each other. Even at the end, when she struggled to give birth to their son.
How Amelia missed her sister. How she wished she could have her back. How she wished Jannie were still here to watch her child grow. But that was no longer possible. Both Janice and the man she loved had left their babe in her care.
Lia wiped her eyes before she turned to face the dangerous man who dominated their library. “I take it your brother told you about us. What did he say?”
“He said that he loved you with all his heart. He told me that you and he had married and that you were carrying his child. Is his child alive?”
She was going to lie. She intended to tell him the babe was dead. It’s what they had planned, to tell the Earl of Atherton’s family that the child had not survived a difficult birth. That would solve all their problems. If he thought the babe was dead, he would leave and she would never see him again.
But at that exact moment, George cried out loudly in one of his most demanding bellows.
Lia stared at Lord Atherton but he was not watching her. His eyes were looking toward the closed door, in the direction of the upper floor where the babe had been sleeping, but was no longer.
Lord Atherton rose and took his first step to leave the room.
“No, my lord!” Lia said more forcefully than she’d intended.
The earl spun around and glared at her. “Is that my brother’s child?”
“No. It is mine!”
“And my brother’s,” he said. “The child is—”
“He is nothing to you but a relative. He is my son!” she repeated. “My son.”
The Earl of Atherton took but a few long strides to reach the door, then he was out of the room.
Lia followed him almost at a run but she could not catch him. He took the stairs two at a time and was at the top before she reached the landing that marked half way.
“No!” she cried. “Leave him be. Don’t touch him. He’s not yours!”
Lia’s advantage was that Atherton did not know which room the babe was in. She took the opportunity to race ahead of him to the nursery when he paused at the top of the stairs. When she reached the babe, she gathered George in her arms as Atherton entered the nursery. She cradled the babe closely, determined to protect him with her last breath, if need be.
“He is not yours!” she insisted, turning her back to him so he couldn’t reach the babe,
Atherton was silent. He didn’t speak, nor did he move. When enough time had passed that Lia no longer felt threatened, she slowly turned.
Their gazes caught and held. The inky blackness of his eyes bore into hers. Anger showed clearly in his eyes, in his expression. Her heart hammered in her breast and it was all she could do to take in a breath and release it.
Lia looked around the room and saw Aunt Mildred standing close by. Her presence caused Lia to feel a small bit of relief.
“May I see him?” Lord Atherton