spare me the details.”
“That’s probably wise, don’t you think?” Beatrice reached over to take Aunt Lydia’s hand. “You wouldn’t want to know.”
“I suppose. But I worry that . . .” After squeezing Beatrice’s hand, her aunt released it. “I truly hated to give him up, but that stupid will said I had to. We even considered breaking it, but Eustace seemed so understanding when he came to fetch Grey, and Maurice said it would do Grey good to learn proper ducal behavior. Besides, Grey seemed eager to go. I thought it was best for him.”
With pain etched on her face, Aunt Lydia sipped some tea. “It nearly killed me to let him leave. I wasn’t sure when we’d see him again. I never dreamed it would be so many years, between wars and my husband’s career and the children. Thorn told me once Grey came into his majority, he refused to leave his properties, for fear his uncle might try to step in and run them. Thorn said Grey didn’t feel easy until Eustace died a few years ago.”
Beatrice sighed. Aunt Lydia had left her with more questions than answers. “So Grey never told you about it himself.”
Her aunt slumped. “He never tells me anything important.”
He never told Beatrice anything important either. He skirted the issue, hinted at memories. It frustrated her.
Could she live happily with a man who wouldn’t show her his inmost feelings? A man who could never say he loved her, who kept his past private?
Sadly, she didn’t know. What if she couldn’t? What would happen to her?
Perhaps she should find out. “Aunt Lydia, I’ve heard rumors that the family might sell the dower house. Is that true?”
Her aunt’s brow was furrowed. “Sheridan has considered it, yes. The dower house isn’t entailed, so selling it would give us a much needed surplus of funds.” Aunt Lydia took Beatrice’s hand. “But if that happens, you and Joshua will always have a place in this house.”
Beatrice’s relief at hearing that was overset by her worry that Joshua would never accept such charity. So if Grey’s offer of marriage wasn’t genuine . . .
Life for her and Joshua was about to become far more complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Since Grey had told his coachman to drive like the wind and the man had taken him at his word, they reached town before the Times offices closed for the evening. Thank God. As they’d careened down the rutted roads to London, Grey had come up with a plan for saving Vanessa’s reputation that he thought might work, as long as the Times would agree to it.
Fortunately, the moment Grey arrived, the clerk ushered him right in to see the general editor. There were some advantages to being a duke, after all, even if Beatrice and her brother were too foolish to realize it. Grey made a few threats, followed by an offer of a great deal of money, to gain the general editor’s cooperation.
Then he headed to his aunt’s London town house to beard the lioness in her den. As the coachman drew up in front of his aunt’s house, Grey’s stomach began to churn. He hadn’t been here since he’d reached his majority and fled the place, but it still held painful memories.
But he was doing this for Beatrice and Vanessa. That thought alone propelled him out of the carriage and up the steps. At least he wouldn’t have to return again until Aunt Cora was in the grave with her damned husband.
When he entered, the butler tried to convince him she was not “in” to callers.
“I’m her nephew, the Duke of Greycourt,” Grey said in his most dictatorial voice. “And when your mistress dies, this place will be mine. So unless you wish to incur my wrath—”
The man hurried off to do Grey’s bidding.
Before Aunt Cora appeared, Vanessa slipped out from the music room to take him aside. “You have to do something. Forgive me, but you and I simply cannot marry!”
“I agree.” He chucked her under the chin. “But I’ve taken care of it. Don’t worry—it will all work out.”
“How? Mama has already had it put into the paper without my knowledge, and that means—”
A voice he’d hoped never to hear again broke in. “I see that you’ve come to visit your fiancée.” His aunt descended the vaulted staircase wearing an elegant dinner gown and a cat-in-the-cream smile.
“Mama!” Vanessa cried. “How could you do this to us? If Grey doesn’t marry me, we’ll all be humiliated, and I’ll never be able