Page 91 of Along Came a Rogue

“You’ve made a fine life for yourself,” she commented, and he noted that she didn’t deny the accusation. “Why does the past matter now?”

“Don’t be foolish,” he echoed her words. “You’re far too intelligent for such nonsense.”

Her eyes flickered at that, making him think she was pleased at the way he challenged her. But whatever he’d seen on her face disappeared quickly. “All these years, I’ve kept watch on you, and not once did you try to learn the truth from me. The one person who would have known, the one person who knew everything that happened in Trovesbury Village…not the vicar, not the constable.”

She reached into the pocket of her pelisse and withdrew two letters, then tossed them onto the floor between them. His eyes followed—the letters he’d written to the parish vicar and county constable inquiring about his birth. The hairs on his nape bristled.

“You could have come to me at any time, Nathaniel, but you never did. Until tonight.”

“It never mattered before,” he answered honestly.

Her lips pulled into a slow, knowing smile. “So you’ve set your sights on Lady Emily, have you?”

Despite the tightening of his gut, he stared at her stoically, years of gambling and spying teaching him to hide all emotion from his opponent. “Aren’t you going to tell me that I’m overreaching my station, being too ambitious for a former groom who mucked out your stables? For a soldier to dare aspire to marry a duke’s daughter?”

She scoffed at that. “Of course not.”

“Why not? Everyone else in your social circle would.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and fixed his gaze hard on her. “Yet you know I’m even worse than that, don’t you? You know I was an orphan. You’ve known from the moment I arrived at Henley Park.”

“Yes.” Her gaze never wavered from his.

“Yet you, a woman who shouldn’t have deigned to even glance in my direction, think so highly of me.” His eyes flickered as they studied her. “I could never figure out why you would pay any attention to me at all—the urchin for whom you arranged an education equal to that of your own grandsons, whom you got commissioned into the First Dragoons.”

“You achieved success yourself, Nathaniel. I only made certain the right people noticed.”

“Yet I was nothing to you.” He paused significantly. “Unless I wasn’t. Unless you knew something that held you in debt to me.” He leaned back in the chair and swirled the scotch in his glass. “Are you going to tell me now, or should I start guessing?”

“Something tells me your first guess would be correct,” she murmured.

Keeping his silence, and trying to ignore the sudden nervous pounding of his heart, he stared at her and waited. He knew. Something inside him had known for years but denied it, had known but never pressed for the truth. Because knowing the truth would not have made any difference.

Until Emily.

“Boys showed up all the time at Henley to ask for work in the stables or gardens.” She stared down into her glass, her voice distant and reaching far back into herself. “But there was one…The first time I spotted that boy, I knew who he was. I recognized my son Charles in him as clearly as if he were once again standing before me himself as a child. So I made certain the boy was given work in the stables, an education, and later, an army commission. It was the same career he would have gotten had he been publicly recognized as my grandson.”

Grey felt the words swirl down his spine, as clearly as if she’d shouted it—Viscount Henley was his father.

“But now,” she continued as she looked up at him, “that boy wants to marry the daughter of a duke, and all that he has accomplished is still not enough, is it?”

“No,” he admitted quietly, setting the unwanted scotch aside. This fight with the dowager had been a long time in coming, but it was still far from over. “You know what I need from you,” he told her quietly. “Why I came here.”

“I told you before, Nathaniel. I will do anything I can to make your way easier—I owe you that. But I will not let you nor anyone else hurt the Henley name.” She shook her head. “Your legitimacy will irrevocably damage the reputation of my family, and I cannot allow that.”

“You’ve freely given me everything else.” A warning edged low in his voice. “Do you really want me to take this by force?”

Her lips pressed together. “You have no proof.”

“I don’t need proof. All I need is rumor, helped along by the fact that I look just enough like Charles Henley to fan the gossip.” He shrugged, hoping she understood that he was not bluffing in this. “I already possess the reputation of a rake. I have nothing to lose.”

But she did. Her family’s reputation could be ruined by the scandal, and from the troubled frown on her wrinkled brow, she knew it, too.

She stared at him, as if trying to determine if he would truly destroy her family if she refused, if he would take his pursuit of recognition as a Henley through blood and battle. But he could have saved her the trouble of wondering; he would certainly do just that, if necessary. Recognition of his legitimacy was all that now stood between him and complete happiness with Emily, and he refused to give up the fight.

“I don’t want to disparage your family, Lady Henley, but I swear to you I will if I have to. You know the man I am.” He locked his gaze with hers. “You know I will do exactly that if left no other choice.”

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then he saw her shoulders sag, and he knew he’d won.

Nodding slowly as she exhaled a shaking sigh, she rose from her chair, and Grey stood, affording her the respect she deserved as a lady. And as his grandmother. Her old body was stiff and moved slowly as she crossed the room to the small desk beneath the window, but the woman was still formidable despite her age, still intimidating enough that few would dare defy her.