The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,72

than one.”

“Of course,” Celeste said, though she knew having Pippa there would perhaps limit how she could approach Owen. She would have to remain more professional. She would have to appeal to him without including pleas that had to do with her heart or his.

Perhaps that was better, though. Manipulating their relationship did not feel like the right thing to do, even if she wanted to do anything to save Abigail from her potential fate.

“Let us go now,” Celeste said. “The sooner we do so, the sooner we can figure this out.”

Pippa nodded. “Yes. I’ll fetch my wrap. You’ll gather both books?”

“Yes,” Celeste said, her voice suddenly rough as she stacked the books together.

Pippa said nothing else, but rushed from the room to collect herself. For a moment Celeste stared at the low fire that had begun to go out since the earlier part of the day when Abigail’s servants had set it.

Celeste could burn these books. She could burn up the evidence that might hurt her friend and convince Pippa to forget about it. Only it wouldn’t help, would it? She knew that Owen had already pointed his attention toward Abigail. Book or not, he would continue to follow that through until he knew the truth.

For the first time, she felt like they were working on opposite sides, and it stung her far more than it ever should have. But there were no choices now. She would have to stand before the man she…the man she loved. Because she did love Owen. Perhaps she had loved him from the beginning when he smiled at her and brought peace into her life that was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

She loved him and she would have to tell him what she knew. And then try to convince him that the evidence proved nothing.

Her stomach turned at the thought. But there was no avoiding it, so she stacked the books, steeled herself as best she could, and went to meet Pippa for their journey to the inevitable.

“You have a caller, Mr. Gregory.”

Owen lifted his head from his paperwork. “Who is it, Cookson?” he asked, and found himself hoping it was Celeste. Less than twelve hours since he’d seen her last and he already ached for her.

It was most distracting.

“The Duke of Gilmore, sir,” Cookson said.

Owen nodded as he got to his feet and smoothed his jacket. “Very good. Have him join me.”

The butler departed and returned a moment later with the duke. Once the formal announcements and bows had been made, Cookson left them and Gilmore reached back to partially close the study door.

“Drink?” Owen asked.

Gilmore shook his head. “No. I’m afraid I’m not here for idle conversation. I’ve taken the last few days to look through my father’s correspondence with Leighton’s father, as we discussed in the park.”

Owen nodded. “Yes. You were going to look for the name of Montgomery’s earlier lover. The one he was parted from as a young man.”

“Yes. Though I did find out about a great deal more than just that.”

“Regarding Montgomery?” Owen asked with a tilt of his head.

Gilmore’s lips thinned with disgust. “Indeed. It seems the late earl often complained about his younger son to my father. Montgomery was always up to his elbows in some scheme or another. Easy money, fast women and empty dreams were the man’s driving forces. And he didn’t seem to care who he hurt.”

Owen sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, that bad behavior clearly carried on after his father’s death. The kind of man who would so badly use women like Abigail, Phillipa and Celeste doesn’t happen in a vacuum.”

“That is certainly true.” Gilmore’s jaw set, his rage barely contained.

“Did you determine the first woman’s name, though?” Owen pressed.

“I did,” Gilmore said. “Forgive me from straying from the topic. Her name was Rosie Stanton. She worked at the Stag and Serpent, an old tavern in Cheapside that Montgomery used to frequent years ago. He did wish to marry her, it seems, a few years before he was…forced to take Abigail as his bride.” Gilmore’s lips thinned and he muttered, “Forced. As if she were some burden to be borne, as if it was her fault that he had what he wanted snatched away.”

Owen drew back a little at how angry Gilmore sounded. The situation was wrought, of course, but this rage seemed directed more at the cruelty toward Abigail, despite their apparent dislike for each other. “The ladies have been callously mistreated, yes,” he said softly.

Gilmore