Woodley can explain as well as I our current situation. If she is suing you for breach of promise, he is the man to talk to.”
“I’m making a muddle of this, aren’t I? Here’s the thing—when I was barely one and twenty, I made the greatest mistake of my life. And she has the proof.”
Maris tried to remember when David was a young buck. He’d never paid her any attention during his visits to Kelby Hall, not that she’d wanted him to. “What are you talking about?”
“This woman claims she is my wife. Well, to be fair, she is my wife. I was of age at the time and we were married in church by her father, who certainly gave his permission.”
Maris suppressed a burble of laughter. “You married a parson’s daughter?” Incredible. Whatever she had been expecting, it was not this.
“It was not my choice, I assure you. She was pregnant, and the parson had a way with pistols. For a man of peace, he had a most violent streak when it came to Catherine. I offered them money, but they would not be swayed. Marriage it had to be if I valued my hide.”
David fiddled with his unused knife waiting for Maris to speak. When she found she could not think of a thing to say—surely “Congratulations” came too late—he went on. “So you see now why I couldn’t marry Jane two years ago when she found herself in the same predicament. Bigamy is a crime, what? Ironic that if I’d only waited to dip my wick in a while, all my problems would have been solved. Marriage to my sweet, stuttering little cousin, pots of money, the earldom secured.”
David was married. He’d never kept his vows as far as Maris knew. “Did Jane know? Did Henry?”
“Poor Janie did. I had to tell her why I couldn’t marry her, didn’t I? And look what happened. I know you hold me responsible, and I reckon I am. I never expected her to take her life. I supposed Uncle Henry would send her off to Italy or somewhere for the duration. But she was too terrified to tell him.”
And Maris had not noticed the change that had come over her friend. She would never forgive herself for it. “But Henry did not know of your marriage.”
“No. It was the one thing I managed to keep from him, but shutting Catherine up all these years was no easy task, I assure you. Your pin money made some little progress there. Odd isn’t it? Hush money from one wife to another. Your husband was like a badger digging into my affairs. He kept a list of all my indiscretions, and read it to me every time I turned up. Did you know that? Called on the carpet like an errant schoolboy every time I darkened his door. Needless to say, I didn’t like that.” David examined a cuff. “I might have said a few things to him to raise his hackles.”
Henry had been nearly apoplectic after his last face-to-face meeting with his nephew. “You threatened to destroy the Kelby Collection.”
David shrugged. “I admit I don’t care about it. Can’t understand why he was consumed with all that old rubbish. But I know my duty. As earl, everything needs to remain for the next generation.”
The next generation. Maris pushed her plate away and stood up, too agitated to sit still a minute longer. She walked to the window. Reyn had disappeared down the lane long ago. “You said this Catherine was pregnant when you married.”
“Ah, yes. I have a strapping son. He’s sixteen this year, I believe.”
A son. She turned to David, trying to keep her composure. “You don’t know how old he is?”
“Well, I can count as well as the next fellow. He’s mine, all right. His damned mother was a virgin and he was born nine months after the benighted night I first took her. We had quite the hot affair for the month I spent in the country. She met me every day, sneaking out of the parsonage like a little spy.” He leered, and Maris looked away. “There is nothing like leading a complete innocent astray, Maris, though I don’t expect you share my sentiments. I would imagine you believe yourself to be one of my victims, don’t you? Unlike you, Catherine couldn’t get enough of me then, but no more. We’ve always lived apart. She and I do not get on very well.”
Maris expected not. Who could close