Ford finally met his gaze with questions in his eyes.
“I suspect that her unconventional upbringing and, er, interest in sex make her conspicuous, don’t you?” Evan asked. Althea’s underlying fear was business whereas Ford had dreaded attention from his peers since his childhood, but both abhorred the idea of society’s focus turning to them.
“Hadn’t thought about it.”
Evan raised a skeptical brow but let the comment slide. “If ’tis that, it seems as though there is a simple enough solution.”
He waited.
Ford frowned as he chewed a bite of meat and cheese dabbed with mustard. He swallowed. “What’s that?”
“Fulfill her sexual needs in private, and she won’t be on the hunt in public.”
His friend choked, despite having consumed the food already.
“Mmm. Ta, Bags. Ever so helpful.” He rolled his eyes at Evan.
Evan chuckled.
But Ford’s next words sobered him. “You haven’t answered my question. Will you see the widow again? Are you investing in her business? It certainly seemed like you had a specific interest in it down in Bath.”
It all poured out. “She daren’t risk a dalliance for the scandal. Rumors could hurt her business given that her clientele are the ladies of the Ton.”
“Is an affair what you want?”
Evan glared at him, bringing both feet to the ground and leaning his elbows on his knees. “What else?”
“You seem particularly well matched.”
“Bah, Ford. You aren’t implying that I’d consider marrying her? You know how I feel about marriage. Or should you accompany me tomorrow to see Mother again?” He was practically spitting the words now, angry at the unfairness of it all. “I will never subject loved ones to that, nor shall I risk a loveless marriage with the threat of dementia in my future. Besides, she doesn’t want to marry again either. Which doesn’t leave me with much choice in the matter.”
“Oh, please. You have talked more women—and a few men—out of their knickers when you’ve put your mind to it. You’ve wooed the toughest opponents in Parliament to your views. And you’ve negotiated the best financial terms I’ve ever heard on any number of investments. If ’twas simply her wishes, we would not be having this discussion.”
Evan nodded. “You’re right. ’Tis my reservations more than anything.” He hoped that would end the conversation, but Ford wasn’t done.
“Have you heard from your solicitor or the investigator?”
“No, but that reminds me. I haven’t even looked at the post since we arrived.” Evan stood and crossed to his desk to shuffle through the pile of correspondence there. Finding a missive from his barrister, he dropped the rest and returned to the small table with their repast.
Breaking the seal, he scanned the note. He took a fortifying gulp of whisky and read it again more slowly. It held terrible news, made worse by Ford’s prodding. He’d hoped there was another heir or another way. How did every other Peer of the Realm have family coming out of the woodwork looking for an inheritance, and he had only one cousin? One who was avaricious at best.
“What is it, man?”
“They could not find anyone else. No relations other than my profligate cousin. No children who might come of age before I turn fifty and likely lose my mind. Nothing. No one. Not even a female relative I could try to direct it to with court paperwork.”
“So even if he doesn’t spend through the fortune you’ll leave, it all dies with him anyway, unless he has a child in the future?”
Evan nodded, slumping in his chair, dropping his forehead into his hand.
Ford shrugged and gave his words back to him. “It seems there is a simple enough solution. You marry and beget an heir.”
****
Evan visited the dower house the next day. Cautiously hopeful when he found his mother lucid, he regaled her with stories from his trip to Bath, expounding on Althea’s expansion plans.
Halfway through, she roused. “Who is Althea? Is she the little brown-haired girl who visited me?”
Excited at her memory of recent events, Evan leaned forward. “No, that was Beth. Althea was the tall dark-haired cousin.”
