demmed rheumatism, always acts up when the weather turns chill.”
He achieved his feet and held himself so proudly that Tessa didn’t notice for a moment that he was no more than an inch or two taller than herself. Lines of age carved his face into a majestic visage that brought to mind a sketch she’d once seen of Moses parting the Red Sea.
She felt numb rather than angry or resentful. So this was the Marquess of Marbury. The man who had abandoned Mama. The man who had rejected his bastard daughter and left them to live in poverty.
Carlin’s stride having carried him a few steps ahead of her, he bowed to the marquess. “It’s an honor to see you again, sir. I hope you are otherwise well.”
“Never mind all that nonsense,” Lord Marbury snapped as he looked the duke up and down. “Well, well. So you are Carlin now. You’re the spit of your grandfather in his younger days. I hope it isn’t just skin-deep and you can adequately fill his shoes. You were a great disappointment to him, you know, when you sailed away from England on a whim.”
Even with Carlin’s back to her, Tessa sensed his stiffness. A tide of antipathy swept away her stupor as she stepped to his side and made an obligatory curtsy to Lord Marbury. “It was no whim, milord. His Grace was conducting important research and making scientific discoveries. And he intends to write a book about his travels, too.”
Carlin fixed her with a warning frown. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“Tell that to Lord Marbury, not me.”
Tessa braced herself for a lecture from the old sourpuss and belatedly realized that contentiousness was no way to butter him up for a loan. He’d likely toss her out on her ear as he’d done her mother.
But to her surprise, Lord Marbury didn’t appear irked. Rather, his mouth hung open and his wrinkled face had turned as white as bleached linen. He wore a peculiar expression that seemed to be equal parts shock, disbelief, and, strangely, joy.
In a strangled voice, he uttered, “Flossie…? Flossie?”
Leaning heavily on his cane, the marquess attempted to step toward her but swayed on his feet. Carlin hastened to guide him back into his chair. Then the duke poured a measure of brandy into a glass and held it to the man’s pale lips. It was a testament to Lord Marbury’s weakened state that he didn’t fuss, but meekly swallowed the liquor.
Tessa ventured closer. He had clearly mistaken her for her mother, she realized, and it had given him a nasty start. Her anger evaporated, leaving remorse in its place, for she could not wish to be the cause of him suffering a heart spasm. “I beg your pardon. Are you all right, milord?”
He looked up at Tessa, then passed a gnarled hand over his face. “You’re not Flossie. Don’t know what I was thinking. Your hair’s too light. Couldn’t see it for that demmed bonnet. And she’d be older now, past forty.”
“Flossie, was that what you called her?” Tessa asked, hoping to coax the story out of him. “I daresay you thought Florence too grand a name for a maidservant.”
“Maidservant? What the deuce are you babbling about?” Recovering a measure of vinegar, he shook his cane at her. “Who are you to malign Lady Florence in so vile a manner and under her own roof?”
She blinked in confusion. “Lady Florence? Lady Florence James?”
“Payne,” he corrected impatiently. “Lady Florence Payne. That is my family name.”
“Oh! But-but how can that be? I know her surname to have been James.” Utterly confused, she looked at Carlin. “It is the same coat of arms.”
“Indeed,” he said slowly, glancing from her to the marquess. “I believe what Lord Marbury is saying is that Lady Florence was his daughter.”
“You!” Lord Marbury turned a bitter scowl on Carlin. “What is your role in this piece of treachery? Did you unearth that ancient scandal and devise a trick to play on an old man by presenting an imposter as my daughter? I would never have thought Carlin’s grandson could be so cruel.”
“Rather than cruel, sir, I hope you will find this a blessing,” he said. “If I may introduce you to your granddaughter, Miss Tessa James.”
Tessa had been standing with her feet rooted to the floor as she struggled to absorb this new revelation. But now her legs weakened, and she sank down before Lord Marbury’s chair to gaze earnestly at him. He looked as stunned as she felt. Her