Tension left Henry’s shoulders as he chuckled, his hand now caressing her thigh just above the knee. His hand left a cold absence the moment it moved away from her.
“There is a rumour,” Henry began, “about an actress.”
Edmund’s features reassembled themselves into a look of confusion. “I no longer dally with women. I learned that lesson years ago. I do not wish to repeat it.”
Henry tilted his head. “Truly? One woman and you are declaring yourself finished?”
“Until marriage, of course.”
The crease on Henry’s face relaxed. “That I can understand. I am sure Harold's spirit would not mind me sharing this with his cousin. Did you know Harold had a natural child?”
“No! I had no idea. With whom?”
“Sarah Baker.”
Violet braced for impact and what she saw told her the whole story. Edmund was not shocked but confused. He stared at Henry without blinking or moving.
“Sarah?” His voice cracked a little.
“Sarah, my wife’s maid. She came to me after Harold died. She said the boy was his.”
Edmund picked up his wine then set it back down. “How old did she say the boy is?”
“Thirteen. But I confess I have never met the boy. I find myself curious about the child. His age, his health, his circumstances.”
Edmund’s face hardened and his nostrils flared. His mouth compressed into a firm line until he said, “Have you been supporting the child?”
“Of course,” Henry said. “He’s Harold’s son. How could I not?”
Edmund reached for his wine again. This time he drank, deeply, and set the glass down. “That is very generous of you,” he said at last.
“Have you met him?” Violet asked.
“No, I—” Colour rose on his neck as he realised the error he had made. “I do not know the woman.”
Violet did not push. She learned what she needed.
Henry sat back in his chair. “If you wish to marry, Edmund, I could settle a farm on you. Enough land to manage, enough income to support a household.”
Edmund’s expression softened with gratitude. “That is extraordinarily kind, Henry.”
“You are family.”
“Yes.” Some of the brightness returned to Edmund. “Perhaps you could introduce me to eligible ladies at your ball.”
“If anyone attends,” Henry said.
“Nonsense,” Edmund said with a smile. “Everyone will come. Curiosity alone will fill the room.” He addressed Violet. “Your Grace must save me a dance.”
“Of course.”
After the meal concluded, Edmund got up to his feet. “Forgive me. I am rather tired this evening. The ride took longer than I had expected.” He turned to Violet. “Cousin, thank you. The pheasant was superb.”
“Mrs Garrick will be delighted to hear it.”
He bent into a shallow bow then turned to Henry. “That was a most excellent dinner, Henry. And thank you for your generosity.”
Henry simply patted his shoulder and walked him out of the room.
