Page 63 of When the Viscount Seduces
“Ah, there you are again,” Shefford said. He wore a banyan over a pair of pantaloons, and his hair was wet, indicating he’d just bathed.
“Hereyouare,” Lazarus huffed. “Finally.”
“What the devil has you so distressed?” Shefford, who reclined on a chaise with a newspaper, gestured for Lazarus to take a chair.
Instead of sitting, Lazarus paced. “Do you recall that fox-hunting party we attended in November?” He glanced toward Shefford, who set his paper on the floor next to the chaise and swung his legs down to sit upright.
“Haverstock’s, yes?”
“His granddaughter confronted me in the park yesterday and accused me of fathering her unborn child.” Damn, but it did not get easier to share that information, and each time he said it, Lazarus felt even more disgusted.
Shefford’s jaw dropped. “The hell she did.”
“Do you remember her? I barely did.”
Furrows lined Shefford’s brow as he considered the question. “Red hair?”
“Blondish, I think.” Lazarus hadn’t been able to tell beneath her hat. He also hadn’t been looking at her closely. His mind had been too occupied with trying to make sense of her claims.
“Did she say when this happened?”
“No, but it could only be the night we went to the inn. I remember the other nights of the party, and I was not with her. On the second night, I had an enjoyable interlude with Lad—” Lazarus cut himself off for the sake of keeping the lady’s identity secret. “Never mind who. I was occupied that evening, at least for a time, in the orangery. But I don’t remember the night we went to the inn—that was the second to the last night.”
“That was a hell of an evening.” Shefford wiped his hand down his face. “We drank a ridiculous amount of ale, then the innkeeper brought out that smuggled whisky. You did drink more of it than I did.”
Lazarus hoped that meant Shefford remembered more of what happened. “What did we do that night?”
“Besides drink? There were a pair of eager women at the inn, and we spent some time with them.”
Lazarus froze, his mind working furiously. He vaguely recalled a high-pitched, feminine laugh and rouged lips. He’d said something about her not leaving rings of red on his cock. He groaned at how terrible that sounded. Honestly, so much of his past behavior was incredibly repulsive to him now. Not the least of which was potentially getting a young lady with child.
But perhaps he really hadn’t. It would be a relief to discover that was true, but it still didn’t excuse the fact that he couldn’t say for certain.
“How long?” Lazarus asked. “All night?”
“No. I slept for a while. I’ve no idea what you did, but you were still quite groggy when we departed before dawn. That was when we returned to Haverstock Hall.”
“So, we weren’t even at the house most of the night,” Lazarus said, relaxing slightly for the first time since he’d encountered Melissa at the park.
Shefford shook his head. He rested his elbow on his knee and put his chin on his hand. “And I have to say, I can’t think you were in any condition to fornicate when you returned to your bed.”
“I had the same thought, but it helps to know this timeline.”
“What will you do?” Shefford asked.
“She’s given me until Monday to make an offer of marriage. If I do not, she’ll tell her father and grandfather she is with child and that I am the father.”
Shefford lifted his head and took his elbow from his knee. “They don’t know? Furthermore, why didn’t she tell you before now?”
“She said she’s been ill, but her mother knew and could have informed me.” Lazarus recalled Droxford’s excellent point on that matter.
“Why would she accuse you of this?”
“All I can think is that the real father is someone she can’t marry. A footman or someone inappropriate.”
“A married man,” Shefford said with an incredibly derogative tone, his lip curling.
Lazarus suspected he understood the reason for his friend’s disdain. His father carried on with other women to an excessive degree. It was possible, if not probable, that he’d impregnated an innocent such as Miss Worsley. “I hope that isn’t what happened to her,” Lazarus said softly. “I do sympathize with her situation, but I truly don’t think I am the father.”
