Page 65 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

“What do you think?”

“Lady Townes should run. Take Julia and run. Sir George has the force of law behind him. If he paints your sister as an immoral influence on his daughter…”

“An immoral influence! He wants to divorce Felicity to marry his pregnant mistress!”

“And how many peers, no matter how they might despise him, will deny him that right?”

Trentham shuddered. This was every old aristocrat’s nightmare: that his wife would find pleasure in the arms of a vigorous young man. That was why the philandering hypocrites had all been so quick to condemn him. That, and the fact that he’d been guilty.

Felicity would not run to Canada as he had. Hiding her at Lannington would not work. Sir George would flush her out. “She can have my villa in Italy. If she’ll go. I’ll need to work out the details. Money. An escort. Secrecy. Perhaps guards for Julia if he’s vindictive enough to try to kidnap her back.”

Eli turned back to the piano. He rested his hands on the keyboard but didn’t play. Then he removed them from the piano and sat on them. Trentham understood his frustration. He felt it too.

Eli mumbled, “Maybe running isn’t the best plan. It was just the first thing that came to me. Your sister might not be willing to go.”

“Maybe not.” But he couldn’t think of anything else. And he’d promised the ladies he’d have an answer within the week. “I’ve got to talk to Lynch.”

“Come with me then. I’m due at his place for Miss Delancey’s next lesson in an hour.”

*

The sisters met them just inside the front door. Miss Delancey was simply enchanting in a fawn morning dress. No bonnet. No gloves. A temptingly sloppy chignon. Her hair cried out to be set free of its pins. As worried as he was, he nevertheless experienced that jolt of lightness her presence always gave him. Now he wished he was attending the MacAlistair’s ball. Even one waltz…

They were expecting Eli. Trentham could see that his own arrival took them aback.

“Good day, ladies. I’ve come to see Lynch.”

“Oh, good,” Dessie said. “You’re not spying on Mr. Cameron. That’s my job today, since Milly is running errands.”

Trentham was quite certain she meant that to needle him. “Keep a close watch. He’s sneaky.”

With a grin, she said, “I will.” Then she gestured to the stairs. “Lynch is in his study. Go on up. Don’t forget tomorrow night’s dinner party!”

As if he could. He took himself off, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder to catch another glimpse of Miss Delancey before she disappeared.

The study was upstairs and down a long hallway. The floor squeaked under his feet the whole way. Lynch would know someone was coming. He paused in the doorway. His lodestar was waiting at his desk, looking up at the door, pen in hand, papers spread before him.

“Robin? What is it?”

“Sir George is threatening Felicity with divorce. He’ll keep her from seeing the children.”

“Damn him.”

“Exactly.” He drew a deep breath. “Eli says it’s Sir George himself spreading the rumors, because he wants the divorce to marry his latest mistress. Lynch, I’ve always despised Gilliam for looking the other way when Stanley was hurting Fanny. Yet I’ve suspected, for some time now…and I’ve done nothing…” Gad, this was hard. “The truth is, I don’t know what to do.” A quiet moment passed. “Other than breaking both his arms and smashing his face in.”

“I can see how that option would be tempting. But it won’t help anything.”

“Eli thinks she should run. I could offer her my cottage in Italy.”

Lynch shook his head. “She’s innocent of wrongdoing. Running will make her look guilty.”

“What option does she have?”

“How brave is she?”

“What do you mean?”

Lynch peered beyond him, tapping his pen rhythmically against the desk. Then he stopped and looked Trentham in the eye.