"Miss Evermore," the duchess said. "What exactly do you mean?"
Thea glanced at Charlotte. "Perhaps this isn't suitable for?—"
"Oh, do let me stay!" Charlotte pleaded.
Estella was already standing and gesturing to a maid. "Charlotte, darling, why don't you go to the kitchen and see if Cook will let you have a taste of dessert early?"
"But—"
"I'll tell you everything later," Blackwood murmured.
Charlotte brightened and let the maid escort her out without further protest. When the door closed, every eye turned to Thea.
She looked to Kit. But when he continued to sit there, frozen in surprise, she set down her book. "Well, it doesn't make sense, now does it? Lord Stratton arrived in London already in debt. Hardly a man who can afford a mistress in the first place." She paused. "Additionally, if the gossip is right, Lord Stratton wasn't even in the country during any time in which a woman could have…" She looked around, her cheeks turning pink. "Well, all I'm saying is that biologically speaking I do not see how the child could be his."
The room went very quiet.
Kit looked around the table. Four faces, four expectant expressions.
His aunt's eyes were darting back and forth as if she were reading an invisible book. Thea's brows drew together in genuine concern. "Was this supposed to be a secret, Lord Stratton? Oh, I am sorry for speaking out of turn."
Estella and Blackwood tried to reassure her, but Thea was looking at him.
Was it a secret? Yes. But he felt a tightness in his chest ease at the thought of telling the truth.
His aunt turned to him with a frown. "Kit. Is this true?"
He nodded. "The child is my father's."
Estella exhaled. Blackwood muttered something. The duchess closed her eyes.
He told them the essentials. The affair, and the abandonment. Clementine alone and pregnant. It was hardly appropriate talk for such a gathering, but no one seemed to notice.
"Why didn't you tell Clarissa?" Estella asked.
Kit opened his mouth, but then closed it.
"Your father." The duchess's voice was flat and cold. "He threatened you."
Kit weighed his words. The duchess's voice might be cold but her eyes held a fire that was, quite frankly, terrifying. The last thing he needed or wanted was his aunt flying off in a fit of rage and confronting the duke.
"Not me," he finally said.
The duchess's look turned calculating. "He threatened the girl."
He supposed his silence was answer enough. "Aunt Philippa, it doesn't matter?—"
"It matters a great deal. That man is not fit to—" She stopped short, visibly calming herself. "But that is a conversation for another time."
Thea spoke up again. "The rumor itself is curious though, don't you think?"
"How do you mean?" Aunt Philippa said it casually enough, but Kit did not miss the look that was exchanged between her and Blackwood.
Thea, however, seemed oblivious. "It spread too quickly, and with too much detail. The ton knew all about the woman. Where she was lodging, and that she was with child." She frowned. "Gossip is quick, but usually vague." She turned to Kit with concern again. "Is there someone who might want to harm your reputation?" Her eyes widened in alarm. "Or perhaps sabotage our dear Clarissa?"
Another look passed between the duchess and Blackwood, and Estella dipped her head to avoid Thea's quizzical stare.
Something was going on here, and he didn't particularly enjoy being kept in the dark.
