“Darling?” Mr. Wright said. “How many women are you seducing?”
Royston huffed. “Angeline is my wife-to-be. Now, if you let me talk without yelling or attacking me, I’ll explain everything.”
As Royston told him about Mama’s drugs and then Lady Redvers’s scheme, Angeline tried to find a chair that didn’t have holes or was rotten. A talented pianist like Mr. Wright shouldbe able to live decently. Never mind marrying a viscount’s daughter.
“Good Lord.” Mr. Wright put a hand on the table with mismatched legs after Royston finished. The piece of furniture shook, about to collapse. “Poor Georgiana. She must be distraught.”
“Excuse me?” Angeline balled her fists. “I’d say poor Lord Wharton. He was drugged, accused of something he hadn’t done, forced to be betrothed to a woman he doesn’t love, lay three days unconscious in bed and almost died.”
Royston gave her a light shake of his head.
Mr. Wright frowned “What do you want from me?”
“Simple. I’ll give you enough money to live well in Paris and marry the woman you love,” Royston said. “We’ll buy a special license and passage to Paris. Now pack your things. You and Miss Taylor will be happy in France, and Lady Redvers’s scheme will come to naught. Most importantly, each one of us will marry the person we love. I’ll give you enough to start a new life and… ” He waved a hand. “Whatever else you need. You have my word.”
Mr. Wright narrowed his gaze. “Will you give me enough to make a viscount’s daughter happy?”
Royston shrugged. “Making Miss Taylor happy is your duty. I’ll merely finance your wedding and help you with expenses until you get established as a musician.”
“I can’t repay you,” Mr. Wright said.
“I don’t want anything from you.” Royston held Angeline’s hand. “I’ll marry the woman I love. That’s more than enough.”
Mr. Wright smiled so widely she could see his uvula. “My lord, do not fear. I’ll make sure Georgiana and I leave London as soon as possible. But I want to return the favour.”
“No favour needed. We’ll be happy to hear you play at theOpera de Paris,” Royston said.
She disagreed. Mr. Wright had attacked Royston. “I want to hear what Mr. Wright has to offer.”
“I offer information.” Mr. Wright raked a hand through his dishevelled hair. “As you know, I’ve been invited throughout the Season to play at balls and dinner parties. They paid me nothing, let me tell you. Many compliments, but little money. During one of these events, I happened to have heard a conversation between Lord Havisham and Mr. North while I was taking my break. Lord Havisham informed Mr. North of your… er, past, about your mother’s death, my lord. They then made a plan to perform a little public scene, where the earl pretended to want to stop Mr. North from spilling the story of your past. North promised Lord Havisham to continue to spread rumours about you, my lord.”
Angeline turned towards Royston, but he didn’t seem surprised.
“Why would Lord Havisham do that?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know, miss. Mr. North seemed eager to help, though.”
“Of course he was.” Royston rubbed his forehead.
“It wasn’t Mama,” she whispered. At least Mama hadn’t lied about that.
“Well, Wright.” Royston winced when he stood up. “We both have a busy day ahead of us, and I need to go to the bank. I’ll meet you back here soon.”
She wrapped an arm around his waist to help him up.
Mr. Wright held the door open. “Will you let me play at your wedding as a thank you?”
Angeline softened. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
Her wedding was going to happen after all.
After the visit to Wright,the bank, and Wright again, Royston needed rest. For days, he’d slept, eaten, and done nothing else as if he were an infant.
He hadn’t had the strength or desire to read the newspapers. If a scandal had started because Miss Taylor and Wright had eloped, he had no idea.
Officially, he was recovering from a bad case of ‘brain fever,’ and no one had bothered him.
Angeline entered his bedroom, carrying a newspaper.
