“I truly did not come here to upset anyone. I…” Geneva shook her head again, knocking more tears loose. “It was as I said”—mostly—“I came to speak with the previous Lord Pender about a dream or… or recollection that refused to allow me peace. I’d no notion, hadn’t realized he’d… he’d…”
“Don’t think about it,” Verda told her. “You are most welcome at Stonemare. It’s just that the news that Julius…” Her voice fell away.
Mr. Oshea grew thoughtful. “You know, looking back—” He turned to his wife. “Remember how insistent Noah had been about having to take care of Julius?”
“Yes.” Verda looked at Geneva. “That was the year my husband and I met.”
“My brother, Damien, er, Pender had been in London.” His eyes squinted toward the ceiling of the carriage. “Damien said he had an issue to deal with before returning to Stonemare.”
The hair at the base of Geneva’s scalp lifted and a ghostly whisper brushed her skin. “And you believe that Julius may have been that ‘issue’?”
“It’s possible,” he allowed. “What strikes me most, if my memories are not failing me, is how Noah kept saying Damien had given Julius to him.”
Geneva gasped. She thought Docia did too.
“There was also the fact that Noah was the one who’d named Julius. It hadn’t sounded all that odd at the time. Lady Pender had indeed died in childbirth. But I do believe we are missing a large piece of this intrigue.”
The shock that flitted across Verda’s face was quickly masked. “You believe there was another child?”
“Why else would there have been a wet nurse in house?” Mr. Oshea said.
“There had to have been a midwife as well,” Geneva said softly. “Would Mrs. Knagg know anything?”
“We had few servants at the time,” Mr. Oshea told her. “But it wouldn’t hurt to ask. It was certainly during her bout of employment.”
“Do you think there was another child who… didn’t…” She couldn’t complete the sentence.
Mr. Oshea’s eyes narrowed, and tension deepened around his mouth. “How else could my brother have pulled off this nearly-twenty-year fabrication?”
“Do you think Noah knew all of this?” Docia asked.
Mr. Oshea turned his gaze out the window. “I’ll be putting that very question to him.”
As would Geneva. Right now, she didn’t trust anyone in Stonemare for the truth but Pasha.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Noah pulled hiswatch from his pocket. He likely wouldn’t have another opportunity to search Father’s chamber. With Isabelle preoccupied with her upcoming performance and his aunt and uncle accompanying Docia and Miss Wimbley from Chaston, this was the perfect moment for decisive action. He doused the candles and locked the door to his laboratory then quickly made his way up to the master chamber. At the door, he gripped the cold, circular, iron handle. He leaned his forehead and flattened his other palm on the heavy, cool oak, letting memories roil through him.
His father crashing into the vestibule that chilling, stormy night with the basket on his arm. The wind whipping his greatcoat about his powerful legs, rain saturating the floor. His searing gaze through the crack of the door, pinning Noah in place, too afraid to move away once he’d been spotted. Father entrusting him, for that first and only time Noah could recall, with a secret that now threatened all he held dear. Noah drew in a shaking breath through his nose, let it out, and turned the handle.
The bed was made, leaving no sign that Rathbourne had been in residence for Father’s services. An ache hit his chest at the loss. Loss for a man who’d been incapable of letting those closest to him in his heart. Still, Noah had loved his father because Father had given him Julius. And Julius had been worth any wrath Father had dealt out.
Noah moved to the vanity. The tabletop was devoid of shaving instruments. It appeared Winfield had already seen to his sire’s things being packed away. He tugged open a drawer, and again, empty. There was no use going through the remainder. There would be nothing to find. Still, just in case…
The wardrobe was the same. No frockcoats, waistcoats, lawn shirts, or cravats. No stockings, garters, hessians, pumps. Nothing.
The dark-green drapes were open and Noah went to the windows, then took it a step farther and unlatched the doors to the balcony. He stepped out. At the Julienne-styled rail, he set his forearms against the stone, allowing the cool breeze to whip his hair about. The briny sea air stung his eyes, causing his eyes to tear, and if anyone said different, he’d wallop them.
Bone-deep heartbreak thudded against his ribs that hurt through to his soul. He could only pray Lucius wasn’t headed for the same destiny.
The sound of clopping horses jolted him from his unsteady tranquility, and the pounding against his ribs heightened, his pulse stirring with erratic thumps.She was back.
*
Geneva strode intoStonemare, head held high. She couldn’t believe she’d let that bully Noah Oshea chase her away with his ridiculous insinuations. Pasha was right. If Geneva had been the one to throw that knife, it would have hit its mark. Noah had been looking for ways to get under her skin, and he’d landed two. A flush of heat rushed her at the carnal desire that had made off with her brain for that second stratagem. She’d capitulated to his kisses as freely as a Covent Garden doxy. It was exceedingly vexing.
Enough. She turned her irksome thoughts from Noah Oshea to her night at Docia’s. Her hand squeezing Geneva’s had opened her eyes. Such reluctant vulnerability really stole into Geneva’s heart. Yes, yes. The woman was as pretentious and self-centered as ever. Geneva could not only see beyond the surface, but, ironically, could relate to an absurd degree, despite the wide chasms separating their stations in life. One thing was clear: Docia could use lessons in developing friendships with other women. And she could scarcely do better than starting with Geneva.