Tristan managed to set his glass aside just in time as Lady Linton threw herself into his arms.
“Alright, we know you are sorry. Calm down, Mama. You promised no more tears.” While he held their mother in his comforting embrace, Tristan’s gaze met Bridget’s.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
Tristan prized his mother off him and helped her over to one of the plush, well-padded sofas. The countess took up a spot at one end, her head resting in her hand.
Bridget averted her gaze as she recalled the endless hours she too had spent seated in that same spot while crying her eyes out over the cruel behavior of her late husband.
But this situation with her mother was different to the many occasions she had found herself in as a result of the actions of a cruel spouse—different in one very important respect. With Rupert, the tears had been shed in despair and hopelessness. At least with the blackmailer, they had an ounce of hope.
If worse comes to worst, we shall just have to pay the money.
“I’ve a plan to deal with this blackguard who is trying to ruin our family, but it is not going to be an easy task,” announced Tristan.
The countess began to sob once more, this time loudly.
Bridget did her best to maintain a composed and calm veneer. Having two tearful women wouldn’t aid their cause.
“Mama and I are leaving for Linton in the morning. We can’t have her going home and facing Papa on her own. I fear it will end in disaster.”
She caught the anger which simmered in her brother’s words. He would be the one who had to undertake the ghastly task of informing their frail father that his wife had put their family reputation on the line. It didn’t bear mentioning that if news of Lady Linton’s repeated indiscretions ever became public, the Linton name would be damaged beyond repair.
While Lady Linton continued with her tears of self-pity, Bridget did her best to dampen her own smoldering rage. “Mama created this problem. She should be the one to have to deal with it, not you.” Her gaze fell on the slumped form of her mother, and to her dismay, Bridget found herself wishing ill of one of her parents.
I am so angry with you right this minute. I don’t think I can muster up a kind word.
Tristan sighed. “I’m afraid I might be getting the better end of the bargain. It is you who has the hardest task ahead of them. While I am doing my best to keep both our mother and father from falling apart, it is you, sister dearest, who will have to deal with the matter of the blackmailer.”
She went to protest, but Tristan shook his head.
“We have to keep this quiet. And I must protect our family. Papa most of all. I have no desire to become Earl Linton anytime soon. If the blackmail money needs to be paid, I will return to London and deal with our bankers.”
Tristan dug his hand into his coat pocket once more and retrieved a card. He handed it to Bridget.
Discretion assured. Results guaranteed.
“What’s this?” she asked.
Tristan stepped closer. His gaze darted to their mother then back to Bridget. He leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “That is the card of the man who is hopefully going to solve our problems.”
Bridget turned the card over. There was not a name or address anywhere to be seen. Just four words of promise. “Who is he?”
“You will find out soon enough when you meet him. He has asked that the use of his name be kept to an absolute minimum.” Tristan pulled his watch from out of his vest pocket and flipped it open. “And in answer to your next question—in about an hour’s time. I’ve given him your name and address. I have also paid his initial fee.”
Turning it over and over between her fingers, Bridget pondered what sort of man would be behind such a nebulous calling card. On one hand he proclaimed his skills and record of success, while on the other he remained nameless. “Alright. I will meet with this mystery man. But if I think he is a charlatan set only on getting money out of us, I warn you, I won’t hesitate to unmask him. Who is to say he is not behind the scheme to blackmail us; have you considered that?”
The card folded in Bridget’s grasp as Tristan settled a hand over hers. “He comes well recommended by some close friends of mine. People with titles and power. People whom I trust.”
The countess stirred from the sofa, and getting to her feet, slowly walked over to join her two children. She wore a sheepish expression on her face, one which had Bridget frowning. “I haven’t told either of you this before now, but I have used this gentleman’s services in the past.”
“What?!” exclaimed Tristan.
Lady Linton straightened her spine and met her son’s gaze. “The fact that none of you ever found out about either of those occasions only goes to show how good this man is.”
Bridget took a hasty step back as her brother seized their mother by the arm and dragged her toward the door. “I think it is time we left. I feel a most urgent need for a heart-to-heart with our dear mother. Bridget, send word if you want anything from me. We are off home to pack. I’m not waiting for tomorrow; the family coach will be leaving London today.”
The door rattled in its frame for several seconds after Tristan slammed it shut behind him.
