Page 90 of The Lady's Last Mistake
“My goodness,” Genie said with a gasp as she no doubt saw the faded bruising on his chin and the healing gash near his eye. “Lord Thornton, you’ve been hurt.”
Torn between holding Cassie’s gaze and responding to the duchess, he quickly looked away. “It was days ago, Your Grace, I am fine.”
“You won’t be if you don’t get out of my house,” Michael retorted.
“Michael, stop,” Cassie said, her voice barely audible.
“Actually, I think Thornton’s timing is perfect.” Hugh sounded far too cheery for the tense moment. “I was just about to share some news about Mr. Youngdale.”
“Who?”Michael, Genie, and Tobias exclaimed, all in unison.
“The man who compromised Isabel,” Cassie said.
Tobias groaned. “The woman you took into this scandalous Hope House place?”
The corner of Grant’s lips twitched, and that adorable dimple dug into his cheek. Oh, good heavens, why did she have the urge to run to him and kiss it?
“I see you told them,” he said. She nodded, and he beamed at her with unabashed pride. She dragged in a breath, her head spinning from the rush of it.
“Why should we care about this Youngdale fellow?” Tobias asked.
“Because,” Hugh began, “Cassie and Thornton defended a young woman’s life against him, even though they risked their own necks to do so.”
Cassie shot Hugh a pleading look. “I’m sure we don’t need to discuss that right now.” Michael was already at the end of his rope. Hearing about the attack in the alley and then the one at the rectory would push him right off.
“Perhaps not, but I think you’d like to know that Youngdale has been arrested—again. This time for the murder of his first wife.” Cassie’s skin prickled as Hugh continued. “I had some officers look further into her death, and the coroner confessed that Youngdale paid him an unfriendly visit, encouraging him rather forcefully to gloss over some other markings on the woman’s body that indicated previous abuse. But it was one of Youngdale’s housemaids who clinched it. She was threatened to keep silent about witnessing a dispute near the top of the stairs that resulted in her mistress being shoved to her death.”
What Isabel had said was true then. He’d killed his first wife, and he would have had no qualms about doing the same to her after their child had been born. He’d wanted the child. Not her.
“That is awful,” Genie said softly.
“He will be going away for quite some time,” Hugh said confidently. Cassie nearly swayed with relief.
“Do you mean to say that my sister was in the presence ofa vile murderer?” Michael asked, the skin above his cravat turning florid.
“I am perfectly fine, Michael,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “The important thing is that a woman is safe, and a murderer is going to prison.”
“Yes, a woman who compromised herself, and with a man of immoral character,” Tobias said, his cheeks becoming just as red as Michael’s. “Not just her but all those women. How could you align yourself with such people? Really, Cassie, a home for unwed mothers? It is shameful.”
Cassie reeled from the sharp scolding. Grant took a step toward her, as though he had seen it. But he stopped short of reaching for her. Instead, he turned to Tobias.
“There is nothing shameful about showing compassion. There are too many men who sow their wild oats and never look back to see what comes of them. Your sister is protecting and caring for women who have nowhere else to turn. You should be proud of her; you should support her.”
Cassie stared at him in wonder, but Tobias only grated out a laugh. “Support her as she ruins herself by associating with other ruined women?”
“Choose your next words carefully, Tobias.” The lowering timbre of Grant’s voice lifted the small hairs on her arms.
She went to Grant and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right. He doesn’t know.”
Tobias was the only person in the room who didn’t. At the time, he’d been away at university, and it had been easy to leave him in the dark. The fewer people who knew, the better. But now, she knew she would have to tell him.
“That doesn’t make it all right,” Grant argued. He tookher hand from his shoulder and held it between his palms. “I won’t hear a single word spoken against you; I don’t care who it comes from.”
“Grant,” she whispered, keenly aware of all the eyes on them. “Why are you here? The charade is over. I’ve asked you to stay away.”
Looking at him, just hearing his voice, hurt as much as it soothed.
He lifted her hand, still clasped between his, to his lips and held her in a stare so tender and vulnerable, it made her heart ache. “The charade is over, yes. It was over long before I even realized it.”
