“Bremsford was going to announce you as the author. It’s the reason he invited you and the reason Knightly spoke up.”
“Yes.” She was beginning to hate that word, so small to encompass so much. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I was going to tell you the truth of it this evening after we returned here. Because I needed you to be aware... I realize your interest in me is more financial in nature. However, my residence and income can go away in the blink of an eye if Bremsford can prove I am Anonymous. He is willing to pay for proof.”
“I’m aware of his hunt but why would it affect your income?”
She explained the clauses to him.
“The law is written so it is the distribution of indecent material that is illegal,” he said when she was finished.
“I imagine he will argue if I had not created it, it would not be available to be distributed. Therefore, I am at fault, the instigator behind the unlawful actions of others.”
“I think he would also have to prove it is indecent. My cousin loves the book, and I found nothing objectionable in it.”
“Is it a chance you’re willing to take? That everything will not be stripped away from me, from us?”
“I am. We might not even need it.”
She gave him a questioning look.
He looked at the ceiling before bringing his gaze back to her. “The evening Knightly invited me to play the private game with him, he offered me some investment advice, a couple of businesses that show great promise. It may be a year or so before I receive any reward, but the man knows investing. And he guaranteed it. I only have to pay back the loan he gave me if his recommendations come to fruition.”
She felt the prick of tears because, naturally, Knightly would do what he could to mitigate Bremsford’s interference in her happiness.
Chidding crossed over to her and went down on one knee. Her heart gave a hard lurch. “I adore you, Miss Leyland. While I know what you will have with me cannot even begin to compare with what you had with another, I promise to ensure you have no regrets.”
Her eyes burned as tears welled. She cupped his face between her hands, needing him to know the truth of what she was going to say. “I think, my dear Lord Chidding, you underestimate your worth. You deserve a woman who will give you the best part of herself, her devotion and her heart. And I am so sorry to say, that is not me.”
“You still love him.”
“Damn it, but I do.”
Within his library, still quaking with rage, his entire body tense with fury, Knight tossed back two fingersof scotch and cursed himself soundly for not trusting his instincts. He’d felt in his gut that Bremsford was up to no good. He should have pushed harder the afternoon he’d gone to ask him about his sudden change of heart. But Regina had held out such hope for being welcomed into the family that he’d wanted it for her as well and allowed himself to be swindled into putting his suspicions aside and believing she would at last have the familial associations for which she yearned.
He knew how important legitimate family was to her. It was one of the reasons he’d let her go.
After confronting Bremsford and turning to the crowd, he’d briefly caught sight of Regina, her features portraying a vortex of emotions—anger, hurt, disbelief, relief—just before Chidding ushered her from the ballroom. Knight had wanted to speak with her, but it would be best if they avoided each other in the future to prevent giving anyone reason to suspect he’d not spoken true, to avert throwing any suspicion at all upon her as being the actual author.
Hearing the library door open, he cursed soundly again and tossed back more scotch.
“You’re not usually one for slamming doors,” his mother said calmly, like the first breath of spring heralding in new life while he was a tempest in danger of destroying all in its wake.
Upon entering the residence, he’d slammed shut the front door and for good measure he’d done the same with the door to this chamber. A rational person would have heeded the warnings his actions prefaced—here be dragons; enter at your own risk. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your slumber. I shall remain quieter.”
“I’d not yet drifted off. Pour me a brandy, will you?”
“I’m not fit company tonight, Mother.”
The woman, who was slowly learning not to cower within this residence, walked over. While he ignored her, he could still feel her looking up at him, studying him. “That is when one is usually most in need of company, Arthur.”
“Not tonight.” He tightened his jaw. “But you should know, as it will no doubt be reported in the newspapers tomorrow, that at this evening’s ball, I declared myself to be Anonymous.”
“But you’re not.”
Her declaration, filled with such unbridled conviction, almost had him turning toward her, but he didn’t want her to see the truth reflected in his eyes or features. Nor was he going to reveal the identity of Anonymous. He would not risk ruining Regina’s life yet again. Not when she was so close to having all she longed for with Chidding.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she poured a splash of brandy into a snifter before reaching for the scotch and filling his glass to its rim. He almost smiled at that but wasn’t certain he’d ever find it within himself to smile in the future.
His mother picked up her snifter. “Join me by the fire.”
