"There were rumors circling last night. About a mistress who's with child." Estella spoke quickly. "And the way they're telling it—" She gave Philippa an apologetic look. "They're saying he's been making a fool of Clarissa, making her believe he's in love with her while courting her for her dowry."
The study was very quiet.
Philippa's mind moved quickly. The money he needed so desperately. A woman with child.
She didn't know the details, but she knew her nephew. And so she knew that the ton's version of it was wrong. Or at least—it wasn't the whole truth.
"Is it true?" Sebastian asked, blunt as ever. "The mistress?"
"I don't know," Philippa admitted.
It wouldn't be shocking, really. The ton wouldn't even whisper about the affair if… She took a deep breath, something suspiciously close to guilt weighing on her chest.
It wouldn't be remarkable if Lady Clarissa wasn't involved. But she'd worked hard to ensure that Lady Clarissa's name was linked to Kit's. And now…
Oh drat. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Whether the rumors were true hardly mattered. What mattered was that the woman she'd hoped to protect was now at even more of a disadvantage, and all because of her involvement.
Her nephew. Her protege… The duchess dropped her hand as a new idea nagged at her. After all, what were the odds?
"This gossip," she said slowly. "How did it start? Who was the source?"
Estella shook her head. "I don't know. It seemed to come from everywhere at once."
Philippa looked at Sebastian. "Is it a coincidence?"
Because honestly, she could not be objective in this moment. On one hand, she might be paranoid. On the other…
She would not put anything past her sister's vile husband.
There was someone watching her house. Someone digging into her finances. And now, someone spreading rumors about her nephew and the young lady she'd taken under her wing.
"You think Barrington has something to do with this," Estella said.
"I think," Philippa said carefully, "that I would not put it past him. And we don't know where he is. It's possible he's returned to London and is stirring up trouble in whatever way he can."
Philippa looked down at her tea. Then again, it was possible the scandal-loving gossips of the ton had merely gotten wind of a salacious new rumor, and had run with it.
Either was a possibility.
Sebastian stood. "I'll speak to Hartwell. If Barrington is in London, there will be traces."
Philippa nodded. "Be discreet. If he knows we're looking?—"
"He'll know soon enough." Sebastian's voice was grim. "But by then, I intend to know more than he does."
Estella fidgeted in her seat, a crease between her brows.
"What is it?" Philippa asked.
"Clarissa was devastated," Estella said quietly. "She didn't show it, of course. She walked out like nothing had happened. But…I could see it."
Philippa closed her eyes briefly. Another young woman hurt. And it was, in part…her fault.
Philippa rang for a maid. "Find my nephew. And send him to me."
15
The boarding house was on a quiet street near the river.
