attend whatever entertainments they had arranged for the evening.
Lady Greystone came to stand beside him, and watched for a moment before she said, “Tell me what I can do.”
That she had unconsciously repeated his own words to the baron made him smile a little. “Forgive me. Father swore me to secrecy for as long as I served as the Raven. If you would, please advise Morris that I have your permission to come and call on you now. I have missed you so much, and I think I will have great need of your wisdom now.”
Her eyes shimmered as she looked up at him. “I loved your father, but dear God. I could kill him for what he has done to you.”
“Too late, Mama,” he said gently.
With a sob his mother embraced him, and he led her back over to the settee and held her as she wept. Once she had regained control of herself she told him that he must return home and live with her now, so they might make up for all the years they had spent apart.
“I have one more confession to make,” Greystone admitted. “I must go back to Renwick and see Jennet.”
The baroness rose and went to her writing desk, where she took a small box from a drawer and brought it to him. “You will offer this to Miss Reed.”
He took the box and held it in his hands. “She will throw it back in my face.”
“Then you will offer it again, and again, until the lady changes her mind about you.” His mother smiled. “I expect that will take some time. I will pack up the household and move into Gerard Lodge. You will need a place to sleep, and I do not wish to be far from you again.”
He nodded, and then recalled what Morris had said. “Have I crushed you, Mother? I know how devoted you were to him.”
Lady Greystone gave him an impatient look. “You ask me that, after what he did to you? I have never been so angry with your father in my life. I daresay I could dig up his grave and set fire to his bones.” She let out a breath. “It does explain, however, his last words to me. He asked me to beg your forgiveness for the burden he had given to you. I never understood that until now.”
“Do not dig his grave.” He kissed her brow. “Pack up the house and go to Gerard Lodge. I will see you there tomorrow.”
Chapter 23
A week after the masquerade at Dredthorne, Jennet returned from attending to some errands in the village to find her mother anxiously awaiting her.
“Oh, you are alive, my dear, thank Heavens.” Margaret embraced her as if she had returned from a year-long absence. “When Debny told me you had left, I thought I might swoon with terror.” She stepped back and held up her hands. “No, I am not doing this again. I knew you would be fine. I must rid myself of these pointless anxieties.”
Jennet drew back and smiled. “I went only to fetch that lace you ordered last month, and some supplies for Mrs. Holloway.”
She had also casually inquired if Greystone had by chance returned to Gerard Lodge, but all she learned was that he remained in London. That meant he had probably already left for France.
“I do not like it when you leave me,” Margaret said. “But I am determined to improve on myself, and learn to trust you will come back to me.”
“I always will.” She stroked her mother’s back. “All of the danger is over now, Mama.”
“I try not to think on poor Mr. Pickering and his men, snatched so cruelly from life,” her mother said as she walked from one window to the next to peer out at the gardeners. “And the Tindalls, whom we considered very good friends, exposed as French spies and carted off to the gaol. Try as I will, I cannot help but to envision what new terrors will befall us next. Does that monster Bonaparte plot to invade Renwick some night soon, and murder us all in our beds?”
“Wellington will never allow that, Mama,” Jennet told Margaret as she poured a cup of chamomile tea for her. “Come and sit down. You will wear out the rugs if you keep pacing so. Besides, I asked Cook to make fairy cakes for your tea.”
Her mother stopped in her tracks. “The little ones with the butter icing?”
“The very same,” she assured her,