Page 89 of Counting on Love

Reginald said, “The proof that Jasper may need is that there are about one hundred and twenty pounds missing, unaccounted for, every year since…” He looked to Georgiana.

“Since the Earl married Lady Iversley.” Georgiana bit her lip. “Before that, it was accounted for. Buried in with the servants’ salaries. After the marriage, the expenses were hidden, but they are there.”

“Expenses?” Crispin asked.

“I don’t know how it works.” Georgiana blushed. “Thirty pounds a quarter, fairly regular gifts each spring, small amounts here and there. And the tuitions.”

“He may not have been visiting her—whoever she was—the entire time,” Reginald said as a thought struck him. “He may have given her a pension.”

“It may have been on again, off again,” Crispin said dryly. “But the sad fact remains that you and Tibury are nearly the same age. There is a slight family resemblance. I’d wager Tibury got sent to Eton to be certain your paths never crossed.”

“And that was why Father agreed so readily to Cambridge for me. He could send Tibury to Oxford like a true Taverston.” Reginald felt hollowed out but forced himself to laugh.

Georgiana stood up abruptly. The ledgers fell from her lap to the floor.

“How can you laugh? Are all men…are all Taverston men…so wicked? So heartless? Have you all mistresses? Children that you won’t acknowledge? That your wives will have to pretend don’t exist? Is this funny to you?” Her voice cracked. Reginald was horrified by the way she fled from them, pushing past Crispin to reach the library door. There she collided with Jasper, who stood in the doorway, wooden-faced. Reginald had no idea how long he had been standing there.

“I won’t marry you!” Georgiana said, shoving Jasper aside. “Don’t you dare ask for me! Don’t you dare!”

She ran out. Her footsteps faded down the hall.

Crispin said, “Jasp? How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“Will you permit me to reach out to Tibury?”

“What do we say to Mother?”

“Merely that we know.” Crispin stood. Then he threw up his hands. “She knows, Jasper. Mother is no fool. I’m convinced she knows.”

“God,” Jasper said. “What a bloody mess. Yes, I should think Mother knows. And once she is no longer protecting us, she’ll probably insist that reaching out to Tibury is the decent thing to do. Mother is a rock. But how the devil did Georgiana become involved? How am I to continue to court her when she’s disgusted with us?”

Reginald tensed, but Crispin said, “I don’t think that’s the important question.”

“Then what is?”

“What do you intend to do about Vanessa? Or is this to be an intergenerational curse?”

Jasper slammed his hand against the wall before he turned and walked out.

Crispin and Reginald stood a few moments in silence. Reginald could not absorb all of what had just occurred. All he knew was that he hurt. Everything he had ever believed about his father was a lie. And worse, their family’s dirty truths had been vomited out before the woman he loved. For God’s sake—the woman he loved had uncovered them!

Worst of all, Jasper evidently still meant to pursue her.

Crispin bent to pick up the ledgers, stacked them on his arm, and carted them back to the desk. He set them down and stared at them for a moment. Then he looked up.

“She was tallying it all in her head. And not just what I pointed to, but things she remembered. She calculated the Harrow tuitions and my tutors and the difference—my God, I could see it in her eyes. The numbers clicked instantaneously.”

Reginald said nothing. There was nothing he could say.

Crispin shook his head. “If you don’t marry her, Reg, I wash my hands of you.”