Page 8 of A Scandalous Proposition
‘Yes, well, I had no one but myself to blame for that.’ She blew her nose and continued with her explanation. ‘We naturally did all we could to keep the particulars of James’s actions private and pretended not to notice people raise their eyes at the haste of his remarriage.’
‘Quite right.’ Adam resumed his seat and smiled at her. ‘It’snotyour fault, Mother. You really mustn’t be so hard on yourself.’
‘Perhaps, but there’s more you should know.’ She paused to take a sip of tea, not appearing to notice that it was now cold. ‘Philippa’s increasing.’ Adam frowned but refrained from comment. ‘She’s quite far advanced so I can only surmise that her condition arose from that initial tryst.’ The dowager’s fleeting smile owed little to humour. ‘They couldn’t marry until James was out of mourning. That will make this one of the most premature babies on record and give the scandalmongers a deal of ammunition to keep their tongues exercised.’
‘Talk can’t hurt us. It’s the least of our worries.’
‘You’re too generous. I know how much Philippa’s defection must be hurting you and I wish I could say it wasn’t her fault.’
‘You think she invited James’s attentions?’ Adam wasn’t entirely surprised that his intuitive mother’s thoughts were veering in the same direction as his own. But he doubted whether they were based on the premise that a drunken invalid would find it difficult to overpower an unwilling victim.
‘I can’t say precisely, but there’s something about her manner that makes me suspicious.’ The dowager’s expression turned reflective. ‘She’s ecstatic about her condition, convinced she will present James with a son and heir.’
‘Let’s all hope so and then some good will result from this wretched situation.’ God forbid that his brother shouldn’t recover from his illness, but if he didn’t, and if he didn’t produce a male heir, then Adam would become the next duke. He was perfectly content with his life and a dukedom wasn’t a situation he aspired to.
‘Yes, it would be a good thing to have the inheritance issue settled, I suppose.’
‘You don’t look convinced. Is there something else you’re keeping from me?’
She spread her hands. ‘No, nothing specific.’
‘Share your thoughts anyway.’
‘Well, I can’t actually fault Philippa. It’s just that she plays the part of the autocratic duchess in a manner I never would have believed her capable of. She also spends a lot of time in town, doing what I have no notion. I’m too glad to see her go to cross-question her on the matter. Not that she would tell me anything, anyway. I’ve never seen anyone so much altered, Adam. I’m sure you’ll be shocked by her conduct.’ His mother’s expression was a combination of desolation and disapproval. ‘I thought I knew her but she’s like a stranger to me now.’
‘Which is why you moved from the main house, I collect?’
‘Yes, I seldom dine at the Court nowadays, unless James has company and I feel I ought to show my face for the sake of the family’s good name. I have Mrs Grantley here to bear me company and prefer to keep my distance from the main house.’
‘Ah, this Mrs Grantley whom I’ve heard so much about. I rejoice that you’ve found someone whose society gives you comfort, Mother.’
‘Tina has helped me remain sane these four months since your brother’s marriage. Goodness only knows how I would have managed without her. She’s a good and honest friend to me and I thank God our paths happened to cross when they did.’
‘Is she here now?’
‘Yes, and now that we’ve exhausted the subject of your brother, you ought to make her acquaintance. You won’t be able to help liking her.’
‘Then by all means summon her.’
The dowager rang the bell. It was answered promptly and, as the door opened, Adam rose to his feet. He was anxious to meet this paragon who afforded his mother such comfort, and was already predisposed to like her. That being so, he was unable to account for the prescient fear that gripped him. The instinctive urge to avoid lifting his eyes towards the door. When he could no longer avoid doing so, understanding came crashing in on him.
The woman standing in the doorway, unable to completely disguise the fact that she was trembling, was the one he knew as Mrs Smith…or Florentina.
Chapter Three
The bell jangled twice, Florentina’s signal to attend her grace. Her knees shook so much as she traversed the flagstoned hall that they almost gave out beneath her. The butler opened the drawing room door but she paused to catch her breath before forcing herself to walk through it. Calling upon the reserves of courage that had seen her through far more perilous situations in recent months, she squared her shoulders, held her head high and glided into the room.
Lord Fitzroy stood and looked directly at her. There was absolutely nothing she could do as recognition dawned and his urbane expression gave way to one of abject shock. Thick brown hair tumbled over both his collar and a brow invaded by an angry frown. She felt a strange compulsion to reach up and push the offending locks away from his eyes. Instead she concentrated upon quelling the turbulent emotions running riot inside her, causing havoc with her nerves. Her heart beat at twice its normal rate, and her breathing became fractured. She dropped her gaze and waited for the dagger to fall.
‘Ah, Tina my love, there you are!’ The dowager’s face came alight. ‘Allow me to make you known to my son, Lord Adam Fitzroy.’
Her grace hadn’t exaggerated when she had so often described her favourite son as compelling. She now knew that he was that and so much more besides. His commanding presence, his authoritative air, stood him apart, even when, as now, he looked so furious. There was about him a sense of uncompromising masculinity that only added to his allure, despite his grey eyes being as hard as flint. They rested upon her with hostile contempt.
Florentina arranged her features into an expression of serene neutrality, drew another ragged breath and forced herself to meet his lordship’s gaze. Their eyes clashed and his expression underwent several changes, each more sinister than its predecessor. With a frown still deeply etched on his forehead, he clearly struggled to keep his temper in check, which didn’t exactly come as a surprise.
But would he give her away?
Well, of course he would! The lingering ray of hope she had dared to entertain, spawned in the wake of Christine’s optimism, withered beneath his basilisk glare. He thought her to be a courtesan so would hardly countenance her presence in his mother’s establishment and have her tainted by association. Christine had assured her that when he realised how highly regarded she was by the dowager, he wouldn’t immediately denounce her. According to her friend, Lord Fitzroy cared too much for his mother’s well-being to act without thinking the situation through. Even if that was true, any reprieve was likely to be of short duration. As soon as he could he would seek her out and demand an explanation.
