The Duke's Secret Heir. Sarah MalloryЧитать онлайн книгу.
not deliver the killer blow? Four years of pain repaid, in an instant.
He could not do it.
‘That is up to you,’ he said at last. ‘The boy must join my household. You are his mother. And my wife. You may come, too. If you choose to do so.’
She closed her eyes, relief clearly visible in every line of her body.
‘Thank you. Max, I am truly grateful.’
He said coldly, ‘I do not want your thanks. If I do not divorce you, it is for the boy’s sake, not yours.’ With an expert flick he threw the cloak about his shoulders. ‘We will discuss the details in the morning, but the boy will be joining my household as soon as I can arrange for it. With or without you.’
* * *
Max strode back to the Granby Hotel, barely noticing the chill wind that cut across from the Stray. Ellen had said her thoughts were in chaos, but they could be nothing to the turmoil raging within him. To discover his wife living as a widow in Harrogate was bad enough, but that she should be concealing his son was unforgivable.
He knew nothing about Furnell, the man she had taken as a husband. Had she married him as soon as she returned to England and palmed the child off as his? Max slowed his pace. Now his initial rage was dying down he realised the delicacy of the situation. There was no way to avoid a scandal. The news that he was married would shock the ton. It would be the topic of gossip in every drawing room in the land, although possibly not quite such a furore as would be caused by a divorce. And then there was Fred. What would his good friend say when he knew Max had been deceiving him for the past four years?
He stopped and looked up at the stars, exhaling softly. What did he really know about his wife? She appeared to be well respected here, but appearances could be deceptive. She had blown in and out of his life quicker than a desert storm. They had married after barely two weeks’ acquaintance and a fortnight later she was gone. Perhaps he could have tried harder to find her, but he had shied away from telling anyone of his marriage or her desertion, so his enquiries had always been couched in the vaguest terms. Confound it, he should have overcome his shame and embarrassment and set his lawyers to discover what had become of her, then perhaps this whole sorry mess could have been avoided. Now he would need to tread carefully, if he was not to make a bad situation even worse.
A sudden gust of wind jerked him from his reverie. It was beginning to rain. He pulled his borrowed cloak about him and began to walk on. Fred and Georgie appeared to be upon good terms with Ellen, in the morning he would call upon them and find out all he could about the golden widow. Then he would be better prepared to act.
* * *
A sleepless night brought Max no comfort. Finding his wife again had been a blow, discovering he also had a son, an heir, had almost floored him. He would have preferred to think that Ellen had played him false, but not only was the boy the right age, one look at the white-blond hair and emerald-green eyes convinced Max the child was his. By morning he was reconciled to the fact that he had a family, but he must decide the best way to proceed.
He arrived at the Arncliffes’ rented house in Low Harrogate to find his friends still at breakfast. He would have withdrawn again, but Frederick beckoned to him.
‘Come in and sit down, Max. We have campaigned together too often to stand on ceremony. At least take a cup of coffee with us.’
‘Yes, please do,’ Georgie added her entreaty. ‘Perhaps your being here will persuade Fred to eat a little more this morning.’
Max sat down at the table, his eyes wandering over the array of dishes.
‘I know, I know,’ said Frederick cheerfully, ‘there is far too much here for Georgie and me to eat, but I cannot help it. Since Corunna I have always liked my table groaning with food. Not that it is wasted—what the servants don’t eat is given to the poor. What we would have given to see such a breakfast when we were marching through the mountains of Galicia, eh?’
‘Aye, those were hard times,’ agreed Max.
‘Let us not think of it,’ said Georgie, shuddering. ‘When I learned how you had suffered, chased halfway across Spain by the French, I cannot bear it!’
‘Devil a bit, my love, that is the soldier’s lot,’ said Frederick. He reached across and took her hand. ‘And Max here brought me home safe, even if there is a little more to me now.’
Max knew Fred was referring to the musket ball lodged near his lung, the reason for his current ill health. He said, ‘I expected to find you at Sulphur Well this morning.’
There was a slight but definite pause, then Georgie said quietly, ‘He was too weak to walk that far this morning.’
‘Nothing serious,’ said Fred quickly, when Max frowned. ‘I have been trotting too hard, that is all.’
‘When we arrived back last night he could hardly manage the stairs to bed,’ Georgie told Max. ‘He was no better this morning so I summoned Dr Ingram. He has promised to visit us later.’
Frederick gave a huff of impatience. ‘And he will tell you what we already know, that I must expect to be up and down.’ He glanced at Max. ‘Georgie blames herself for keeping me out so late last night, but dash it all, Max, I do not want to sit at home like an invalid, waiting to die.’
‘But perhaps you should have left a little earlier,’ Max suggested.
‘When everyone was having such a good time? Never. It does me good to be amongst my friends. I was particularly glad to see you and Ellen Furnell getting on so well. I have to admit you made a very handsome couple on the dance floor. She’s a dashed fine woman, ain’t she? And Georgie’s closest friend, you know.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Our children are almost the same age so we have much in common,’ Georgie explained.
‘That is good, because I wanted to ask you about her.’
‘What’s this?’ Frederick looked up from the sliver of ham that he was pushing around his plate. ‘Are you interested in the beautiful Mrs Furnell? I vow I shall take it very ill if you throw over m’sister for the golden widow!’
Max could not smile. He knew his friend was funning, but the words flicked him on the raw. How was he to tell his friend he was married and had been for four years? Thankfully, he was saved from replying by the news that Dr Ingram had arrived.
‘So the old sawbones is here, is he?’ Frederick wiped his mouth and put down his napkin. ‘I’ll see him in the sitting room. No sense in climbing all those stairs again. No, no, stay there, Max. Georgie will be back to keep you company in a moment.’
Max watched as Georgie hurried to help her husband to his feet. He noticed how heavily Fred leaned on her shoulder as they went slowly from the room and when she returned a few minutes later there was an anxious crease in her brow.
He said bluntly, ‘He has grown much weaker, even in the few days I have been in Harrogate.’
‘Yes.’ She sat down at the table and poured herself another cup of coffee. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she spoke calmly enough. ‘The bullet has shifted; he cannot breathe so well now. Dr Ingram thinks it will move again, and next time it might be...be fatal.’
‘Is there nothing that can be done? If it is a question of money—’
She shook her head. ‘Thank you, Your Grace, but, no, that would not help. If Fred could be induced to lie in bed and never move then his life might be prolonged, but he says that would be worse than anything. He is getting progressively weaker. Dr Ingram thinks it cannot go on more than a few weeks.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘For myself I am resigned to it, but I hate to think of little Charlotte growing up without her father.’
‘Oh, Georgie, I am so sorry.’
‘Your Grace is too kind.’
‘It is Max,’ he said, grief