Regency 09 - Redemption (14 page)

Lady Denbigh’s eyes filled
with tears of frustration and pain. “And if he knew about the
child? Would he come then?”

“No. I’m sure he would run
farther away.”

“There is nothing to be
done then. You will have to go to another country to have the
child, leave it there and return to a semblance of your former
life.”

“No.”

The duchess was speechless.
Her wide blue eyes grew until they dominated her face. “Excuse
me?”

Jenny remained adamant
although her surprise at her own declaration threatened to undo
her. “I said no. No, I will not go away. No, I will not give up my
baby. No, I will not return as if nothing happened. No.”

“But, darling, you have to.
How else will you survive the ostracism?”

The younger woman’s face
grew pensive. “You are right,” she relented. Her mother’s features
relaxed until Jenny added, “I will have to leave Town at least.
Society may say what they wish about me but I don’t need to be
around to hear it. I will not give up my child.”

That evening before dinner,
Jenny was told to wait upon her father’s pleasure in his study. She
had some misgivings but was determined to hold to her decision to
keep her baby.

The duke was seated behind
his desk, perusing some paper that had him frowning mightily. Jenny
hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, but he must have heard her
enter.

“Sit down,
child.”

Inside, she relaxed just a
bit. If he’d been truly upset, he’d not have called her
that.

She sat, arranging her
skirts just so. When she looked up, her father was watching her,
the look of disappointment in his gray eyes like a slap in the
face.

Her breath caught on a sob.
“I’m sorry, Papa. I truly am.”

His look didn’t change.
“I’m sure you are. Now. Hindsight ever was perfect.”

An uncomfortable silence
fell in which Jenny wanted to make excuses…but she had none to
give. She’d made a mistake and now she’d have to pay the price of
her actions.

Finally, after what seemed
like hours but was in fact only minutes, the duke said, almost
conversationally, “Your mother tells me you will not give up the
child.”

“No, sir, I will
not.”

He seemed a little
surprised at her firm tone. “You do realize, of course, that this
will affect our whole family.”

“Yes, sir, I
do.”

“And this may affect Gwen’s
chances at a good match.”

Jenny swallowed painfully.
“I understand.”

“And yet, you would bring
scandal down on all our heads just so you can have your live doll
to play with when you feel like it and put away when you’re bored
with it.”

Jenny shot to her feet.
“NO! I want this child because it’s mine. Because it has more
opportunity for happiness with me than some poor family who already
has a dozen mouths to feed. Because it’s a part of Dare and is the
only part I’ll ever have.” Her words ended on a strangled sob. She
pressed her fingers to her lips, willing the choking tears
back.

“Selfish reasons, to be
sure,” her sire said callously.

Jenny merely nodded,
admitting at least that much.

“And yet, I wonder,” the
duke mused. “If you gave the child up, you could go on as if
nothing occurred. You could pretend you had not borne a child out
of wedlock, go to parties, and make a brilliant match. In short,
you could forget your mistake and most likely learn nothing from
it…a far more selfish decision, if one were to think about
it.”

A moment of taut silence
followed. The duke watched his daughter intently but
dispassionately. Jenny stared down at her hands, trying to form the
words she needed to say and make her father understand.

“I would have the
responsibility of my indiscretion, my lord,” she whispered. “I need
the responsibility of my indiscretion. I need this baby and this
baby needs me.”

“Will you love the child,
my girl? Or will you berate it every day of its life for being
born?”

Looking him directly in the
eye, she vowed, “I will love this child with every beat of my heart
and every breath in my body.” She paused to swallow another rising
sob. Her next words were barely heard over the sudden commotion in
the hall outside the study. “I already do.”

Lord Connor Northwicke was
fit to be tied. He’d heard through an acquaintance that Jenny had
managed to get herself in serious trouble. Threatening to call the
man out for slandering his sister had only resulted in pitying
glances that had further enraged him.

Now, Connor wanted the
truth. He stomped into his father’s townhouse, shaking rainwater
from his hair having conveniently forgotten his hat. The icy
rivulets running beneath his collar did not help his
mood.

The duke’s butler was
properly impassive, taking the young lord’s coat and gloves and
informing him that his grace, the duke was in conference with Lady
Genevieve in the study.

“I’ll announce myself,” he
told the butler coldly. He moved to the study in the back of the
ground floor. The staccato beat of his footsteps accurately
portrayed the dangerous depths to which his mood had
sunk.

He paused outside the door,
took a deep breath to try to calm himself, and knocked once. He
opened the door even as his father was bidding him to do
so.

“I apologize, Father, for
bursting in on you like this.”

His glance found his
sister’s weeping form and he cursed. He didn’t bother to apologize
even with the duke’s admonishing eye silently reprimanding
him.

“I’ll kill the
blighter!”

Jenny surged to her feet,
her own temper ignited. “You will not, Connor! You will leave him
to live whatever life he chooses. If he doesn’t want me, that’s his
choice.”

He ignored her, addressing
their father. “You can’t possibly let him get away with this,
sir.”

The duke merely lifted an
eyebrow as he slowly stood. “What can I do, short of hunting
Prestwich down? Adam has not been around so I’m sure does not know
his whereabouts nor does Miles.”

“Then I’ll do
it.”

“Where do you propose to
start looking, Con?” Denbigh asked reasonably. Then, surprisingly,
he added, “I’ve had runners looking for the young man. Darius does
not want to be found. It’s as if he never existed.”

For some reason, instead of
increasing his temper, as such tidings should, Connor’s anger
swiftly deflated. He slumped into a seat next to Jenny’s, heedless
of the rudeness of sitting while a lady was standing.

“It simply cannot be left
this way,” he muttered. “She cannot go through the hell in store
for her. She must have a husband.”

Jenny sat, her depression
once again settling upon her like a shroud. “I will survive, Con.
You needn’t take on my woes as your own.”

He turned his head to look
at her. She flinched at the angry disappointment still visible in
his blue eyes. “Needn’t I? It is up to me to defend your honor, as
your brother and Father’s heir. What does it say about me that I do
not do so?”

“I admit I was wrong. But I
am as much at fault as Dare. And if he sees fit to stay away, there
is nothing anyone can do about it.”

“Where will you go to have
the child?”

“Home,” she answered
decisively. “I will go back to Denbigh Castle.” Her eyes met those
of her father. “And if I am not welcome there, I shall make my way
somewhere else. I have my legacy from Grandmother and it is
sufficient to keep a small house.”

Her father nodded and she
was relieved. He had the right to deny her the inheritance since
she had yet to reach the age of five-and-twenty.

He added, “You may return
to Denbigh, however, if you choose.”

Connor regarded his father
with astonishment. “You can’t be serious, Father! She will be
ostracized until she flees or takes her own life.”

“She is aware of that, Con.
She has decided the child will stay with her and she will be its
mother. We cannot convince her otherwise.” He sounded oddly proud
of that fact.

Connor simply sat there and
gaped, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally
managed to sputter, “But her life will be ruined. She doesn’t
deserve that.”

Jenny, having had about all
she could take of being ignored, snapped, “I am aware of that, and
I’ll thank you to at least pretend I am here. As to my deserving it
or not, that is beside the point. Would you have me simply discard
my responsibility because I am female? Not only female but the
daughter of a powerful peer, and in so being, that option is open
to me? A female who was naïve enough to be…seduced…by pretty words
and whispered promises? Which, by the bye, is far from the
truth.”

Both gentlemen stared at
her. “You were forced?” they asked in unison.

“No, I wasn’t forced. I
seduced him,” she asserted firmly. “I have told you over and over
that I am as much to blame, more so even than Dare, but you
insisted on placing the lion’s share of the responsibility squarely
on his shoulders.”

The duke’s softly spoken
reply overrode whatever she may have added. “That is the way of the
social sphere to which we belong. To go against their rules is to
court utter ruin.”

She sighed, staring down at
her clasped hands. “I know. And I’m willing to do that. My only
regret is the shame I bring to my family.”

The duke and his son shared
a long look.

“By the way, Con,” Jenny
asked, her brow furrowed in thought, “how did you hear about this?
Did Father tell you, or Mother, perhaps?”

“Neither, actually. I’d
like to think Father would have seen fit to inform me eventually
but, unfortunately, it was Lord Compton who told me the latest
rumors flying about.”

She released a weary
breath. “So, it begins.” She stood, forcing her male relatives to
stand as well. “I shall go and have Alice pack for my departure. I
shall inform you presently where I’ve decided to
reside.”

She left the room, her
spine straight, her face expressionless. The door closed with a
silent click behind her.