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Of course, he wouldn’t trust her now. But she had to try, regardless. Laying her heart at his feet was the only option. Even if he didn’t return her feelings, the air might still be cleared between them. That he was fond of her was more than apparent, for her words wouldn’t have affected him otherwise. Nothing mattered now besides wiping that awful expression off his face. “Arthur, I lo—”
“Save whatever you are about to say, for I won’t believe a word of it.”
She closed her mouth with a painful nod, knowing it would be futile to change his mind in the state he was in and happy the toxic air between them wouldn’t tarnish her confession. He would need time to calm down and think rationally before he could accept anything she said. “I will leave you, then.” Francesca got as far as the door before remembering. “Good afternoon, My Lord,” she muttered with a belated curtsey. He made no reply, his face remaining as hard as stone as she closed the door behind her. Tomorrow would be a better day, Francesca declared to herself as she tearily made a beeline for upstairs and the safety of her room. Tomorrow, she would make him understand.
Chapter Twelve
“My Lord?” Lady Clifton’s tentative voice sounded from behind the door.
Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face to calm himself enough to be presentable. The anger and hurt simmering within threatened to overtake him entirely, and the last thing he needed was Lady Clifton seeing his open upset. No one could know how deeply Francesca’s words had cut him. The display they had put on was bad enough already. He was only thankful that he’d avoided committing himself to a courtship before her true feelings concerning him had been revealed. Arthur had been a hair’s breadth away from announcing his intentions to her. How humiliating that would have been.
Lady Clifton knocked again. Stuffing away his emotions in the darkest reaches of his heart, Arthur answered. “Enter.”
Lady Clifton shuffled in. Thankfully, her daughter was not with her. He didn’t need yet another reminder of how disastrous the day had been. His meeting with William Tremore had gone reasonably well, the young man calming somewhat once Arthur explained his reasoning for staying away. While Mr. Tremore was still wary of him, they’d parted on relatively stable terms. And then, he’d caught Francesca outside of Jasper’s office, no doubt after an attempted interrogation, and decided to tell her everything. He supposed it was fortuitous that Lady Charlotte had come barging in. He should have realized the implications her similar appearance to him might have had were she ever to visit Festoon Hall, but hiding his identity no longer mattered. No doubt Francesca would avail the other women of the truth, and he had no idea how loud William Tremore had made himself during his investigations in London. There was a high probability that the whole of the Ton would know of his status by the time he returned home.
“I had hoped to speak to you today,” Lady Clifton said. She moved further into the room and gave him an awkward smile. “If you prefer to meet later, I understand.”
“No, I am fine.” He most certainly was not, but he’d be damned if he gave Francesca that victory. “I have my own questions.”
“Such as?”
“How did you know who I was?”
She blinked at him in confusion. “Did Mr. Chase not tell you? I was the one who found the documents in Clifton’s desk. I also instructed him to approach you directly and to keep your identity a secret from the rest until you arrived to claim the title. The house was in such an uproar, I was trying to ease the scandal as much as possible.” She sighed. “I should have realized Charlotte might cause some misunderstandings since you and I are of similar age. You both favor the Tremore blood running through your veins.”
“It was inevitable that I would need to reveal myself.” He paused to gather himself, one question burning in his mind. “Do you have any idea why your husband refused to acknowledge me as his legitimate grandson, even after I was shuffled away to school?”
“I married your grandfather at eighteen, only ten years ago, so I was not present when you were found, and I have no idea how the marriage of your parents occurred. I know why he hid you, however. All of Clifton’s sons, including your father, were dead. He thought if he managed to sire another son and bury the legitimacy of your parents’ marriage, he might avoid, and pardon me for his insulting words, ‘the son of a harlot maid’ inheriting the earldom. I was to be the broodmare in that endeavor. I also know he paid for your schooling in case the worst-case scenario happened. If you weren’t an aristocrat by blood, then you would at least be able to act like one. He grew even more desperate once your club became so infamous. Charlotte’s birth and my subsequent miscarriages were a blow to him, and after it became apparent there would be no more children, he plucked Mr. Tremore from obscurity and pampered him as his heir. Mr. Chase only told you that my husband ordered the documents to be found. His second order was for them to be destroyed.”
“He tried to illegally deny me my inheritance?” Arthur hated the man far too much to be insulted, but the gall of it was still shocking. “You realize that had I discovered this, there would have been a scandal far worse than the one we have now?” He’d have raised hell in the courts, and with the combination of his wealth and best friends’ powerful influence, likely regained what was owed along with the added bonus of a social fiasco.
“Yes, which was why I acted quickly upon finding the documents. Mr. Chase and I both agreed that destroying them was wrong, both from a moral and utilitarian standpoint. The earldom is rightfully yours, and I have no wish to change that.”
“You have done me a great service, madam.” Arthur shook his head with a wry smile. “Then again, I wonder if it is worth having the significant burden of Renwood. It should be obvious, but my expertise is decidedly not in estate management.”
“I assumed as much. The estate is in shambles. I don’t even have a widow’s portion set aside. Mr. Tremore, the poor lad, had many great ideas on how to improve things, but…”
“Now there is nothing he can do,” Arthur finished for her. He felt a smidge of pity for the man. The love he held for Renwood was plain to see, and there was no question he was likely far more qualified to run things than Arthur. “Believe me, if I could give it to him, I would.”
“Actually, there is a solution, if you are amenable to it. I didn’t come here simply to tell you the full truth about my husband’s actions.” She fished through her reticule, triumphantly producing a folded bundle of papers. “I found many interesting things while snooping through the desk, including this. Most of what we know as Renwood is unentailed, and these are the documents to prove it.”
Arthur snatched the papers and all but ripped the twine holding them together apart. He was met with a collection of deeds, bills of sale, and the entail itself. Nearly the entire property had been purchased within the last century or so, the only bit of land attached to the title itself being… “The ruins,” he breathed. “That is the only thing I cannot sell.”
Lady Clifton nodded happily. “Yes, that was the original dwelling belonging to the Earls of Clifton. The manor is a later addition built on the purchased land about one-hundred and fifty years ago. I hope I am not too forward in assuming you would much rather wash your hands of the property?”
It was like a great anchor had been untied from his feet. He’d have only the title itself without the burden of the land. “I very much would.” Another thought struck him, an important concern even if doing away with things was tempting. “What about you, Lady Clifton? I am a wealthy man and will be perfectly happy to set you and Charlotte up wherever you wish.”
She smiled kindly. “Please do not worry on my account. My younger brother is the only family who lives, and he was vehemently opposed to my marriage when it happened, as powerless as he was to prevent it. He is the Duke of Lester now and has already offered me and Charlotte a place in his household. You are free to do away with Renwood, but might I make a suggestion?”
He caught on to her train of thought“You mean for me to give it to Mr. Tremore, do you not?”
“He knows every inch of Renwood and what it needs. You will have the assurance that the land and its people will be in expert hands.”
Which, at the end of the day, was all that Arthur truly cared about. The remaining tenants would be far better served by someone who actually knew what they were doing. The best chance for prosperity lay with William Tremore. “Tell him to visit me at The White Heather the next time he is in London. I will complete the handover then.”
Lady Clifton blinked. “Can you not meet with him at Renwood in the coming days?”
Arthur shook his head. “I will be leaving at dawn. I am eager to return home, and there is nothing left to keep me here.”
