Page 73 of Bargaining for the Barrister
“What sort of matter?” Logan asked.
“The matter of matchmaking.”
His mother gave Lady Kellen a desperate glance. Good. He loved his mother, but a few minutes of uneasiness would drive his point home. “Louisa and I...” Lady Kellen’s brow rose. Perhaps he ought to go back a ways. “Yes, we are on a first name-basis, but only after forging a friendship that was initially based on the most uncomfortable and contrived connection. For the record, Louisa has admitted to her role in this.” He dared not glance down to see how she was faring. He hoped to steer the conversation in the right direction soon. “However, I think it’s time for the other three conspirators to confess as well.”
“Three?” Logan asked.
“Yes, you included. Who else could have supplied Lady Kellen with the names of Mr. Davies and Mr. Turner?”
Logan grimaced. “Louisa wrote and told me what happened. I do apologize. For that and... the other minor details.”
“Such as?” Paul prompted. He noticed his mother was growing pale across the room, but he flicked his gaze back to Logan and employed his probing stare.
“When pressed by Lady Kellen in a letter, I did reveal Louisa’s favorite flowers.”
His mother cleared her throat. “I might have decorated the house with them before Louisa arrived.”
Logan sighed. “And her favorite books.”
A light laugh flittered out of Mama’s mouth. “I did buy those and put them in an easy-to-find location in the library.”
Paul groaned. “What else? Let’s make a clean slate of this.”
Logan tapped his leg a few times. “Look, I never imagined it would work, so such facts seemed harmless.”
“The flowers and books were indeed harmless, but as your sister’s protector, I am shocked you would encourage a connection to Mr. Turner or Mr. Davies. From what I gather, you researched my character extensively but hardly looked into theirs.”
Logan’s flushed cheeks made him resemble his sister when she was embarrassed. “Forgive me, Louisa. I should’ve been paying better attention this last year.”
She reached out and squeezed his knee. “I knew I did not love them, but even I would never have predicted Mr. Turner’s behavior. Besides, you had so much on your shoulders after Papa’s and Mama’s passing.”
Paul would someday tell her of Mr. Davies’s past too, but there was little need for him to guilt Logan any further. He was merely building his case. “Mr. Cox, I appreciate your forthrightness, but I believe there are more confessions to be heard today.” He glanced at Lady Kellen. “Shall we begin with you?”
“Really, Paul. I feel like I am on trial.” She opened her fan and started beating air toward her face.
Ian laughed. “When one commits a crime, a trial can be a gift to prove one’s innocence. You should be thrilled for the opportunity. That is, unless you are guilty.”
“I have already apologized to Louisa about the house party.”
“And?” Ian said, leaning over his knees and coaxing his mother with his voice.
Her smile wavered. Perhaps she needed a prompting of a different nature. “Did you or did you not lock us in the attic? This question is for you too, Mama,” Paul said.
“The attic?” His mother shook her head. “Certainly not.”
“Did you ask someone to do it?” Rephrasing the question was an old trick. Lady Kellen’s fan beat a little harder, but neither of them spoke. “I think we can all assume the answer to that. What else? We want you all to sleep easy tonight, so get it out of your system.”
“There was the letter,” Lady Kellen admitted.
Louisa gasped. “The one I thought Paul had left in my room?”
“I wrote it,” his mother said. “For Paul. I knew he felt those things, so I had no problem putting those feelings to words in a brief sort of way. It’s what mothers do.”
So that was why Louisa had gone to such efforts to pass a note to him. It was in response to a fake one of his own. He cringed to think what Mama might have said and signed his name to. Louisa put her hands to her cheeks, and Paul reached down and squeezed her shoulder. It was time to wrap things up before she suffered any more.
“I wanted us all to clear the air before I made an announcement. It is my hope that Louisa and I will be married.” Several gasps passed around the room, and he would not be surprised if one had come from Louisa. “That is, with Mr. Cox’s permission.” This was where pinning Mr. Cox earlier would work to his advantage. Paul looked him directly in the eyes, ready for his own confession. “It has come to my attention that you were not aware of my true parentage. I am not the natural son of Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon. They are actually my aunt and uncle. I will inherit, but as my uncle—my father, as I know him to be—is still healthy with many years ahead of him, thank heaven, my income is limited to what I make as a barrister.”
“And an allowance from his parents,” Mrs. Sheldon said. “Remember, Paul, you did agree to let us help.”
