left his brother’s wife with the babe and escorted the dowager Viscountess Collinson to the drawing room. But his mind lingered in the nursery. He could certainly see why his brother had loved the fetching woman. She was lovely in every way, even though she carried herself with what could only be described as strength of will.
“Would you care for something stronger than tea, Lord Atherton?” Lady Collinson gave a flick of her wrist toward the sideboard as they entered the room.
“Yes, I believe I would,” Hunter answered, then stopped at the modest arrangement of crystal decanters. “If I may?”
Receiving the lady’s permission, Hunter lifted the brandy decanter and filled a glass. “Would you care for anything?”
“Yes, I believe I’d like a glass of sherry.”
Hunter handed Lady Collinson her sherry, then sat in the chair opposite her.
“Thank you, Lord Atherton.”
Hunt took a small swallow of his brandy. He refrained from drinking the entire glass like he wanted to do. He refrained from drinking the entire decanter like he wanted to do. Instead, he took another small sip.
“Montclaire, if you please,” he corrected. “I am no longer the Earl of Atherton.”
“Yes, but surely you see that you must retain the title,” a voice said from the open doorway. His brother’s wife entered the room and closed the door behind her. “For all intents and purposes, you must remain the Earl of Atherton for the foreseeable future.”
Lady Atherton paused at the sideboard and poured herself a glass of wine. She sat in the chair between himself and her aunt.
Hunter tried not to stare, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her. She wasn’t at all like the woman he thought his brother would marry. Every bone in her body exuded courage and determination. He thought the woman his brother would be drawn to would be softer, more naïve. This woman had a strength that Hunter couldn’t help but admire.
His brother’s widow took another sip of her wine, then placed the half-empty glass on the table before her. She sat back in her chair and leveled him a hard look.
“Why are you here, my lord?”
“That should be obvious, my lady. To discover if my brother had a child and if that child was his heir.”
Lady Atherton’s eyes closed for a moment as if his directness pierced her resolve. “How did you find out about the child?”
“My brother told me.”
Her eyes widened.
“He knew he was dying and asked me to give you this.” Hunter reached into his pocket and took out the letter Evan had written. When she took it, he turned his gaze away from her to offer what little privacy he could.
She didn’t open the letter while seated there, but rose from her chair and walked to the window. He heard the paper rustle when she unfolded it, then waited in silence while she read.
He heard the silent sobs and saw her shoulders shudder in pain. He should have known how upsetting it would be to read her husband’s letter. He was sure his brother had poured his heart and soul out in the words he wrote.
After several long moments, his brother’s widow turned to face him. “Does your father know Evan and…I…were married?”
“No. He doesn’t.”
“You know he can never find out, don’t you?”
Hunter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I know. Neither you nor the babe will be safe if he becomes aware you and Evan were married and there is a child.”
Lady Atherton folded the letter and placed it in the pocket of her skirt. “What are your intentions, Lord Atherton?”
“I intend to take my brother’s child and keep him safe.”
“That, sir, I cannot allow. I will not permit you to take George away from me. He is mine. Mine!”
Somehow her anguish startled him. Hunter blanched. He wasn’t a completely unfeeling cad, even though he’d just indicated he intended to remove her child from her care.
It was the child he’d been concerned for. He could provide for the child’s safety, ensure the babe grew into manhood prepared to carry his title. It hadn’t for a moment occurred to him that the solution he offered would rend in two the heart of the babe’s own mother, the woman his own brother had loved with his whole being.
What a brute he was. How could he have been so single-minded as to even think such a solution might be even remotely acceptable?
“But Lady Atherton. You can’t keep him safe.”
“I can! No one knows I am here.”
“How long do you think