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‘My subterfuge, I’m afraid. Shall we sit? It’s a bit of a strain on my neck, looking up.’ The woman smiled. ‘Marshall wrote me about how tall you were.’
Recognition knifed through her in a stab of horror. Those green eyes—that soft blonde hair waving out from under the stylish bonnet. No wonder they looked so familiar.
This woman had to be Lady Hazlett. Her dead fiancé’s mother.
For a moment, Theo thought she might faint, before the primal instinct for self-preservation kicked in and rushed her brain back into action.
Too late to worry about what the woman had gleaned from her initial response. Lady Hazlett might not know anything at all. Her unexpected visit could be just a pleasant coincidence.
Theo could still pull this off, if she went about it cleverly.
Belatedly putting a smile on her face while touching a hand to her heart, Theo said, ‘You’re Lady Hazlett, of course! I’m sorry, it was such a shock. I’d always hoped to meet you some day...under much happier circumstances.’ Trying to make her motions smooth instead of jerky with panic, Theo motioned her guest to a chair and took one herself.
‘By the way,’ she added belatedly, ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I intended to send you and Lord Hazlett a note. But I was...ill for some time afterwards, and putting anything in writing would make it too...final. It took me a very long time to face the fact that Marshall was gone for ever.’
Grief shadowed Lady Hazlett’s face. ‘I miss him dreadfully still. Yet, I know that your loss was greater.’
Marshall’s mother’s words ripped open the lid on the box in which she tried to keep all the anguished memories contained. Hammered by a blow of desolation, Theo couldn’t get any words to form, all her energy concentrated on holding back the sobs.
Lady Hazlett poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. Grateful, Theo gulped down a sip, the scalding liquid shocking her back to the present.
‘Thank you,’ she said after a moment. ‘Goodness, where are my manners? I should have served you. Are you staying long in the area? Not that I’m not delighted to meet you at last, but how did you know I was at Thornfield Place?’
Annihilating Theo’s last hope of brazening through, Lady Hazlett said quietly, ‘I think you know why I’m here.’
After a moment of agonised silence, Theo said dully, ‘Audley Tremaine visited you.’
‘Yes. And now, may I see my grandson?’
Chapter Fourteen
Through the roaring in her ears, Theo dimly heard the clatter of her teacup as it dropped back into the saucer. She found herself on her feet, chest so tight she could scarcely breathe, desperately trying to decide what to do next.
She could laugh, look puzzled, tell Lady Hazlett she had no idea what she meant—though her obvious distress would make such a denial rather unbelievable.
She could walk out, order her butler to show Lady Hazlett the door, and hope that was an end to it.
Lady Hazlett had risen, too, and looked up at Theo, an anguished appeal on her face. ‘Marshall was my only remaining child, you know. I lost two little boys as infants and one dear daughter, and then, two years ago, our eldest and heir, Edward, died after a hunting fall. When Tremaine told me Marshall had a son, I had to come. Your precious child is all I have left. Surely, you won’t be so cruel as to keep him from me!’
‘I never set out to hide him,’ Theo said softly. ‘I didn’t know if you and Lord Hazlett would want to acknowledge him, since Marshall and I never married, but I had planned to contact you. But then, when I arrived back at the army with him, and everyone assumed he was Alicia and Everly’s child whom Everly’s family refused to acknowledge, I saw a way of keeping him that would avoid shaming my father. That would avoid having Charles branded a bastard.’
‘Good heavens, girl, what were you going to do if the Marquess of Wareton changed his mind and wanted the boy back?’
‘I would have told him then about Charles’s true parentage. It’s all recorded in the register at the convent, so there would be proof. But unless and until that happened, Charles could remain legitimate in the eyes of the world, and free from the true scandal of his birth.’
‘As could you,’ Lady Hazlett said tartly.
‘As could I. For what it’s worth, I cared very little what happened to me. I couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone again as I had Marshall, so being ruined and unable to marry didn’t matter to me. I would have grieved at the loss of my father’s respect, but protecting my father from embarrassment and Charles from the stigma of bastardy were my primary motivations. Which you can believe, or not.’
‘Oh, child, I didn’t come here to harangue you! Only to reclaim a part of myself I thought lost for ever. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh.’
Furious determination boiled up from the depths of her soul. ‘You can’t have him. He’s all I have left of Marshall, too! I’ve cherished him and nurtured him since the sisters placed him in my arms after he drew his first breath. Besides, how could you claim him, without the facts of his birth coming out?’
Lady Hazlett shrugged. ‘Why could we not continue the fiction you’ve already promulgated? All my friends know how devastated I was by Marshall’s death. We can put it about that, after your return to England, I called on my son’s former fiancé, to meet her and commiserate over our common loss. While there, I met this noble orphan whose family didn’t wish to claim him. Delighted by the child, I took him up in place of the boy I’d lost. It would make as much sense as the version you’ve told thus far.’
‘He’d be much more visible then. Much more likely that the Marquess would hear about him, and perhaps change his mind about acknowledging him.’
Lady Hazlett laughed. ‘That old miser? I’ve known Wareton since my come-out, and a more selfish, clutch-fisted man would be impossible to find. If he didn’t want the boy years ago, he’ll not claim him now. If he thought at all about my taking Charles on, he’d look upon it as a fine joke that someone else was paying the bills for one of his son’s by-blows. As for the girl’s family, I understand they are of slender means, and would doubtless be happy to have the boy recognised by someone of more wealth and influence.’
‘Which,’ she continued, rounding on Theo, ‘is why you should give him up, if it’s truly his welfare that concerns you. What can you do for him, compared to what Lord Hazlett and I can offer? Yes, I know you are well funded, but you can’t claim to have the influence in society of a viscount, nor can you promote Charles’s career through a long association with other landed gentlemen in their colleges, clubs, and Parliament. Would you deny Marshall’s son all those advantages? Besides, I understand you’ve started a school for soldier’s orphans. I can’t imagine how you can run that and give proper attention to Charles’s upbringing, nor is it right that he grow up associating solely with orphans much below his station. How is he to learn to become a gentleman in an orphanage for paupers?’
It didn’t help the panic roiling through her that Lady Hazlett was echoing all the arguments Aunt Amelia had always given her about securing Charles’s future. And then it came to her.
A battle never went as you’d envisioned, Papa always said, the attack often coming from an unexpected foe or an unforeseen direction. One must fall back into a more defensible position.
And there was only one defensible position in this battle. If she wanted to keep Charles, she would have to find a stepfather for him who could offer the same advantages as his grandfather.
‘I can’t refute those arguments. I’ve agonised over them myself from time to time, but never could bring myself to consider marriage. Threatened with Charles’s loss, though, I’m prepared to act. So I propose a bargain.’
‘A bargain?’ Lady Hazlett echoed. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘We’re agreed that we both love Charles and want what is best for him. I believe that remaining with me, who has cared for him since birth, is better for him than being sent away with strangers. But I also understand your desire to claim a child who, but for unfortunate circumstances, would have been a grandson you could have loved and acknowledged openly. I propose to marry a gentleman of standing and substance, who can be the mentor, teacher and example your husband would be, while allowing Charles to remain here, with those he knows and loves. But we will also adopt your story of visiting me, being charmed by the orphan, and wanting to take him under your wing. I’ll accompany him on visits to you and Lord Hazlett several times a year, and when he’s older and knows you better, will let him come alone. It was never my aim to deny him the love of his grandparents.’
Lady Hazlett sat thoughtfully silent. ‘Who do you propose to marry?’
