Page 32 of A Rogue to Ruin
Selina massaged her temple. “Beatrix won’t care about her reputation. She will likely suggest we say we were protecting her because she is illegitimate.”
“What about Ramsgate?” While Beatrix’s father, the Duke of Ramsgate, had privately acknowledged her, he’d been clear that he would not do so publicly.
“What about him? Beatrix won’t say who her father is. Let Society obsess about who he might be.” Selina’s tone carried equal amounts disdain and sarcasm.
Rafe frowned. “I’m sorry she’ll have to endure that.”
Selina put her hand in her lap. “She won’t mind. She has what she always wanted—a family.” She exchanged a look with Harry and smiled softly.
“You should invite her and Rockbourne to the dinner on Monday,” Harry said. “A viscount in your family doesn’t hurt.”
“Harry, would you mind if we stopped at their house so I can tell her what happened?” Selina asked. “I have no idea if the news will get out, but I want her to hear this from me. She’ll be astonished.”
Rafe understood that emotion too well. The shock still hadn’t worn off. Perhaps it never would.
He was a bloodyearl.
“I doubt Mallory or Lady Burnhope will disclose what’s happened,” Harry said. “I suppose the housekeeper will tell the other employees, and it’s possible the news could spread that way. I’d say you should be prepared for anything.” He looked to Rafe. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell my father and brother right away so they can also lend their support. You will need all the well-placed friends you can get.”
Rafe’s mind spun. “Thank you.”
“Rafe, what will you say about your past?” Selina asked quietly. “You’ve been rather vague.”
He had to be. Raphael Bowles hadn’t existed until this spring. Before that, Rafe had been a criminal, an orphan of London’s East End. Thanks to his father teaching him to read at a very young age and his ensuing love of books, he was educated. Books, of course, were exceptionally dear, so he hadn’t been able to purchase them. Instead, he’d stolen them from Paternoster Row until a bookshop owner had caught him one day. Rather than send Rafe to prison, Mr. Fletcher had taken pity and allowed him to read the books in his establishment as if it were a library. Dear Mr. Fletcher had died some eight years ago, and now Rafe owned that bookshop.
Harry’s brow creased. “You will be scrutinized. Just as you will become one of the most eligible bachelors in London.”
Bloody hell.Rafe didnotwant that. “Thank God the Season is almost over. Won’t everyone be leaving town soon?”
“Next month, but that may as well be a year from now,” Harry said. “Say you were educated by private tutors and that you inherited money from the man who raised you.”
“Won’t they ask who that was?” Selina asked.
Harry shrugged. “Probably, but Rafe can simply say he died a long time ago. Keep things uncomplicated, and be charming. Society will be utterlyenthralledby your resurrection. You’re handsome and wealthy, and everyone will want you to succeed.”
Rafe managed to nod even as he felt completely overwhelmed. Now that he finally knew the truth of who he was, he would have to pretend as he never had before. “I am going to find out who that man really was—the man who took us from our nurse and brought us to London. None of this makes a damn bit of sense. Why would Selina and I be declared dead?”
Harry cocked his head. “Speaking as an investigator, I would ask who would benefit from your deaths.”
“Our uncle.” Rafe and Selina spoke almost simultaneously, their eyes meeting.
“He would have set the fire at Stonehaven?” Selina asked disbelievingly.
“And killed our parents.” Ice coated Rafe from the inside out. If he found that to be true, nothing would be able to protect Mallory from his wrath.
“We don’t know that for certain,” Harry said cautiously. “Yet.” He exchanged a look with Rafe that said he would find out.
Rafe couldn’t quite believe this man who had hunted him for years was now his ally. Apparently, today was a day of improbable surprises. Not the least of which was the fact that Anne Pemberton was now firmly in his orbit.
And, though he might like to deny his strong attraction to her,thatwas the best part.
* * *
What was Rafe doing today? Or thinking? Was he sad? Angry? Scared? No, never scared.
These were the questions crowding Anne’s mind on Saturday, along withhow can I see him today?She would see him Monday at the dinner Mr. Sheffield had proposed, but that was too far away. She wanted to talk to him, to understand how he was feeling. It had to be a shock.
Of course it was. He’d had no idea until yesterday that he was an earl.
