“I don’t think I am.”
Placing the glass onto the table, his father removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his hand. “You have no idea of what I have sacrificed for this family.”
“You intended to help Phineas divorce his wife and are trying to arrange a marriage for me,” Greydon said.
“Yes, for the good of the family!”
Rising, Greydon said, “Perhaps it is time that you take a look at the man that you have become since Mother died.”
“I know who I am, and I do not need you to preach to me,” his father stated before he stormed out of the room.
Greydon stared at the doorway that his father had just departed through and let out a sigh. He didn’t think it was possible for his father to change. So why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?
ChapterSeventeen
The following morning, Greydon exited his townhouse and stepped into the waiting coach. He sat across from Mr. Moore and tipped his head at him. “Good morning,” he greeted.
Mr. Moore responded in kind before saying, “It would be best if you let me ask the questions when we call on Lady Charlotte.”
“Pray tell, why do you say that?” he asked dryly. Why did Mr. Moore insist on being irritating?
“We do not want to frighten the girl.”
“The girl?” Greydon repeated. “Lady Charlotte might be a murderer and she is pregnant with my brother’s child. She is also seventeen years old. I daresay she is hardly a ‘girl’ anymore.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t have any inclination that we consider her a suspect.”
Greydon frowned. “You do recall that I am a Bow Street Runner.”
“Youwerea Bow Street Runner, but now your priorities have changed,” Mr. Moore said. “You are heir to an earldom.”
“That doesn’t mean I suddenly turned incompetent when it comes to investigating.”
“No, but you are distracted.”
Greydon’s brow lifted. “How exactly am I distracted?”
“I would be blind if I did not notice your attraction to Lady Enid.”
“That is neither here nor there,” Greydon said, seeing no point in denying it. “I just want to ensure that justice is done for my brother.”
“And it will be, but in due time.”
“Lady Eugenie doesn’t have time,” Greydon remarked. “The court of public opinion has already found her guilty.”
Mr. Moore nodded. “Yes, but Lady Eugenie will have her day in court. That is all that matters.”
Greydon could hear the sincerity in the barrister’s voice and he found himself curious as to what kind of man would accept a case where most people had written off the defendant as guilty. “May I ask why you accepted this case?”
“Does it matter why?”
“In the grand scheme of things, no, but I can’t help but wonder why,” Greydon said. “You have proven yourself to be a competent barrister with your winning record in court. Why would you jeopardize that by representing Lady Eugenie?”
Mr. Moore grew silent. “You and I are not that much different, you know.”
“I would say that we are vastly different.”
“You may hide behind a gruff exterior, frightening little children along the way—”
