“Because he hates me. Were you not listening to the stories I told you earlier?”
Kenver’s brow knit in confusion. “He hates you enough to ruin the rest of his family?”
“Yes. If it comes down to the family versus the title, the title wins every time.”
“Even if it means having a bastard earl?”
“Better a bastard than me. But youwouldn’tbe a bastard; you would be the long-lost heir. Handsome and rich and eligible. And what does Father care about the rest of us if he’s about to die?”
Effie tried to think, to encourage reason to rise above sentiment. He was as cornered as he’d ever been. He should not have told Mr. Nancarrow to have at it. He could not allow Father to ruin Sarah and Mother. So he would have to pay off Mr. Nancarrow. He’d have to allow himself to be blackmailedandhe’d have to be earl.
And he would have to find a new steward, one as good as Mr. Nancarrow.
Effie straightened his spine and lifted his chin. “What do you want? Name your price.”
“My lord, those areforgedmarriage lines!” Mr. Nancarrow cried, suddenly aghast. He gentled his tone. “I am almost certain of it. My apologies; I thought that part was clear. I should have led with that.”
Effie took a breath, struggling to adjust to this new piece of information. “How can you tell? The parish is correct. The date is logical.”
“Well, for one, I spoke to my mother about it.”
Effie couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose the good lady would remember a wedding.”
“And the marriage lines are always given to the woman, are they not?” Mr. Nancarrow said.
“I . . . don’t know.”
“They are, proof of a married state being much more important to a woman than to a man.”
“I see.” Effie thought of Julianna, and her particular reasons for wanting to remain unmarried. He was beginning to understand how thoroughly women had to rely on their relationship, or lack thereof, to a husband to get what they wanted. “So you have come to me to tell me you do not want the riches that have effectively landed in your lap? Do you not wantanything?” People were not this naturally good, were they?
“Well, perhaps . . .”
Aha. People werenotthis naturally good. “I will pay whatever you ask, give you whatever you like.” Still, he appreciated that Kenver had come to him.
“What I would like is . . . to have a brother.”
Effie shook his head, scarcely able to believe his ears. “You had an earldom in your grasp, man!”
“I don’t want an earldom. I just want to be happy.”
Astonishing. “You don’t think an earldom would make you so?” He could sympathize.
“I think what makes men happy is honest work. Family and friends. I have the former. I could use more of the latter.”
Effie hardly knew what to say.
“My lord—”
“Effie,” Effie corrected. “Or Edward.”
Kenver dipped his head. “Effie. My intent in coming here was to assure you I plan to destroy this document.”
“But is that document all there is?”
“I have searched high and low at Highworth and found nothing else that might be associated with this plot. But looking back at the year or so, I am reinterpreting a number of conversations I’ve had with your father—”
“Our father,” Effie corrected. “I am sorry to keep interrupting you, but when we are alone, I should like us to call things what they are.”
