Page 63 of Miss Dashing
Hecate drew back. “You’d do that?”
“I would beg in the street to aid your cause, my dear, and it’s my cause as well.” Why did she find it so difficult to grasp that others could be as loyal to her as she was to her blighted family?
“London is deserted for the nonce,” she said, resuming their embrace. “Everybody will have left for the grouse moors and the shires. Johnny can get to work, but Parliament sits, he’ll probably stick with that pining-from-afar bit. The whole business is ridiculous.”
“I agree, but the threat Johnny poses, to you and to your relatives, is all too real. What if I compromised you?”
Hecate again shook her head. “That doesn’t give me grounds to refuse Johnny. I suspect his ultimate strategy is to get me to hand over my fortune before the case is heard. To settle out of court.”
“Though scandal arises the instant suit is joined?”
“Precisely—scandal arises and attaches to me, while he is the wronged party sacrificing his dignity on an altar of last resort. He will back me into a corner, offer me a modest sum to subsist on, promise to look after our impecunious relations, and then break his word. I cannot recommend Canada to anybody if this is the effect it has on a man’s character.”
“Canada is unlikely to offer the Bromptons much of a character if darling Johnny is typical of the brood.”
Hecate offered a wan smile. “I love you. I love that I can talk to you, that you don’t fly into the boughs when serious thought is warranted, love that you don’t blame me. I should have seen this coming.”
For the love of gamboling lambs.“No, you should not. Johnny and Isaac counted on ambushing you. We have merely to devise a counter-ambush of equal effect.”
“I have no idea what that would even look like.”
“We will start with an alert to Tavistock and his bride. They might have some ideas. Until then, you comport yourself as a woman of means without marital impediments.”
She leaned into his embrace. “Thank you, Phillip. I want to hope this will all turn out to be another typical Brompton imbroglio, but Johnny is very determined, and Isaac is very bitter.”
Phillip wanted to ask her:What of your other father, the one who even now demands regular reports on your activities, who bides one long, hard day’s journey to the west?A sea captain could doubtless spirit Hecate out of the country with little fuss, and then how would Cousin Johnny react? Hard to sue a woman when you had no idea where she bided.
Could Phillip leave Lark’s Nest for Hecate’s sake?
The answer surprised him: Yes, and he could, in part, because Tavistock and the good folk of Crosspatch Corners would look after the property conscientiously in his absence. They’d find him a suitable buyer if need be, all the while claiming to have no notion of his whereabouts.
Though Tavistock was a sibling of short acquaintance, he was already family.
“The rain has let up,” Phillip said. “I will take that for a good omen.”
Hecate stepped back. “Some fool planned a horse race for today. Will you be among the competitors?”
“DeWitt’s colt will win. Roland has terrible form, but tremendous speed. I will take the opportunity for a hearty gallop anyway. I don’t want to talk about horse races, but I suppose we must carry on as best we can.”
“You won’t spend the morning clearing some ditch or mending wall?”
“Not while the ground is this wet. I apologize for last night. I awoke as you were leaving.”
“We are both tired. Just a few more days, but, Phillip…”
Ah, she would think of that. “No more nocturnal visits to the summer cottage?”
She turned from the window. “Not under the present circumstances.”
Because such visits were scandalous and also because the result might be Phillip’s cuckoo raised in Johnny’s nest. Hecate would never put a child at risk for the fate she’d suffered herself.
“I understand.” Phillip kissed her cheek, and they shared a smile. “I love you too, Hecate. Very much, and these barbarians will not part me from you, try though they might.”
In point of fact, her menfolk were not barbarians. They were polite society’s idea of gentlemen, while Phillip was at heart a farmer dressed up in lord’s clothing.
The distinction brought him no comfort whatsoever.
ChapterFourteen
