Two Lady Scoundrels and a Duke - Tessa Candle Page 0,18
been extinguished by your own words. I overheard every conniving falsehood you spoke to Katherine just now, so you may end this ridiculous charade. I am tired of it.”
A desperate pallor crept over Marie’s features, and her voice shook. “But what of our child? Surely your grace is not so cruel as to throw off his own progeny and the future of his line!” Here again, a slight flick of her eyes in the direction of Katherine made her intentions clear to Foxleigh. Marie knew very well that he would never believe the child was his—the very idea was preposterous and he had already told her so once. This drama was only to further blacken him in Katherine’s eyes.
Very well, if it was a pantomime Marie wanted, this was as good a time as any for him to make it clear to Katherine that he had not fathered Marie’s offspring. He permitted himself to laugh at her ridiculousness. “Your child is no progeny of mine. His coloration and features are the very image of the Earl of Baton. What? Has the earl sorted out your real nature and thrown you off, as well? What a pity. True, I would feel sorry for the boy if I did not know him to be a vicious little beast. From what I have heard, even at this tender age he is overly fond of kicking cats and breaking the necks of chicks. So there is at least one way in which he favours his mother’s side.”
“As I said before, I would never try to foist a child upon your grace that was not your own—”
“You said that when you informed me that the baby you were carrying was the earl’s. I am afraid you have worn out that old chestnut.”
“That was a mistake—”
“As I recall it was right around the time that you discovered how little fortune was left to me. What a remarkable coincidence.” Foxleigh laughed. “It was a glorious thing to later discover that diamond mine had come through, but I think I would have gladly given up the windfall entirely, just to be rid of such a fortune-hunting viper.”
She wrung her hands and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “Oh your grace, do not say such things about the mother of your heir, I implore you!”
“Is this merely for effect, or can you really be so deluded? Even if this child were mine—which he most certainly is not—he could never be my heir, for he would have been born out of wedlock. You have thus far been publically representing him to be the son of your late husband. His only claim to legitimacy is as a commoner. And an illegitimate child cannot be an heir to a duchy—or an earldom, for that matter, in case Lord Baton has not pointed that out. If that has been your game, I am afraid you have grossly over-played your hand, Mrs. Dubois.”
It was at that moment that the transition came. He could see her contorting like a snake about to shed its time-worn skin. Her mouth twisted and her eyes glittered cruelly. “Oh I am Mrs. Dubois, a widow. My reputation has certain protections. But her?” She pointed a long gloved finger at Katherine and looked ready to spit shards of glass. “She is Katherine, is she? Quite. Miss Blake would be too formal. Have a care, your grace. You know very well that by staying here you are putting her reputation at risk. What will people say when they discover that you have been living here with her, with no chaperone and not so much as a lady’s maid?” She gave him a smug smile. “You had better come away with me. I have a carriage waiting, for I see you have none.”
“You see wrongly. I have my own conveyance. It simply was not here when you arrived, because I was not here. You, yourself, are a witness that I am not here unchaperoned with Miss Blake. She is currently under the watchful eye of a widow—albeit one of dubious character. And her lady’s maid awaits her inside.”
Marie coughed and looked superior. “Come now, your grace. There is scarcely room in the place to turn around. There are no servants. She is here unattended, and her reputation is ruined, unless you leave with me.”
It was such a pitiful triumph that animated this bitter threat that Foxleigh might have felt slightly sorry for her, even in his contempt, had she been anyone