Page 78 of Everything But the Earl
“I want to believe you, but I don’t know how I can trust you now. Not when you’ve withheld so much.” Owen dropped his head and rubbed his forehead. Then he looked up at her. “The worst part about this is that I thought we had something that we clearly don’t. I rushed home because I was worried about you, because I’ve come to care about you a great deal, but I suppose that was one-sided.”
“Owen, it—”
“I already know what you will say, and I want to believe it, but I don’t right now. I don’t know how you can earn my trust back, but I think you must if this is going to be anything but a marriage in name only.”
Then he stood and left the room.
Grace cried, because of course she did. But she had no idea how to fix this. Owen was upset and it was her fault. He was right, they had grown closer through their letters, but she’d made a terrible mistake in withholding things from him. How could she ever convince him to trust her again?
Chapter Twenty-One
Anthony found Larkat home, in his study, reading from a stack of letters he’d received in the last week.
Lark motioned for Anthony to sit without looking away from what he was reading.
“You summoned me,” Anthony said, opting not to take a seat. “I am here at your request and yet you leave me waiting.”
Lark held up the letter he’d been reading. “Apologies, but this was interesting. We’ve solved one mystery. Caernarfon has become a father.”
“What?”
“You’ll recall that he was distraught he had not received a letter from his wife in a fortnight and so ran off to Wales to make sure she was still alive. According to his letter, she’s fine, but gave birth and had a difficult labor from which she needed time to recover, so she was unable to write him. He seems a little peeved that she did not tell him she was expecting. But now he has a son with some Welsh name I do not know how to say. Duh-fidd?”
“More like Da-vith, I think. The Welsh form of David.”
“Hmm. Well, anyway, that’s two of my friends who have families now.”
“To be fair, Caernarfon started a family the moment he got married. Once you are responsible for someone other than yourself, you have a family.”
Lark tilted his head. “That is an interesting definition.”
Anthony shrugged and sat in the wingback chair near Lark’s desk. The truth, though, was that he had given this a lot of thought. In a way, he was responsible for Lark’s happiness and well-being, which made Lark his family. They’d never stand in front of a priest and promise to obey each other. They’d never have children together, nor did Anthony want to raise children. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be a family together. Perhaps, instead of a child, they could acquire a dog. Or five.
“Not that I am not delighted to see you, but your note said it was important. What is happening?”
“You don’t find it odd that Caernarfon’s wife didn’t tell him he had a son? Or that one was on the way?”
“Larkin. You are stalling.”
“Something happened.”
A deep sense of foreboding settled over Anthony. Something about Lark’s face told him it was bad. “What happened?”
“Samuel Gordon.”
Anthony swore.
“It’s good news and bad news,” Lark said. “Gordon approached me a few nights ago. He threatened to expose us.”
Anthony sat forward. “What? How? And where were you?”
“At the club, with Hugh and Fletcher. I got up to use the necessary and he cornered me.”
“What does he think he knows?”
Lark let out a breath. “Hethoughthe knew that you and I were having an affair. He threatened to take it to a scandal sheet if I did not pay him a very large sum of money.”
“Did you pay it?”
