to his surprise, over one aspect, and on that she wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t shift, would not concede.
“I have lost one son—I will not lose you, too. No !” She held up a hand. “I appreciate that to be successful your plan makes open association impossible, but ”—she fixed her eyes on his—“you will continue to visit this house, to visit me and your sisters. They are my daughters and are as capable of keeping your secrets as I am. You will not cut yourself off from us—and I assure you we will not let you go.” Her eyes filled. “That, my dear, is something you cannot ask of us. If your plan is to succeed, you will need to factor that in.”
He hadn’t expected such a vehement reaction. Searching her face, knowing her adamantine will, he reconsidered, then nodded. “Very well. But my visits will be, for want of a better word, furtive.”
“Secret.” She nodded. “You know the staff will do anything for you, so that won’t be a problem.”
“The girls . . .” He grimaced. “I’ll leave it to you to tell them—you’ll know better than I how to put it, and I don’t have time for the inevitable arguments and explanations. Jordan and I must leave for London as soon as possible. If we’re to paper over the gaping holes George has left in the family’s financial façade, we need to act immediately.”
Lucasta’s eyes searched his face, then she quietly asked, “And Caroline? I’ll explain to her if you wish.”
Lips thinning, he shook his head. “No—I’ll speak with her. She’s Henry’s other guardian. She and I are going to have to find a way to work together, for Henry’s sake if nothing else.”
He rose.
Lucasta rose, too, gripped his arm, and stretched up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Go, my dear. I know you must.”
She released him and turned away, but not before he saw a tear slide down her cheek.
H is interview with his sister-in-law set the seal on a long and horrendous day.
As he approached her suite, he saw Draper and Minchinbury emerge from Caroline’s sitting room. They closed the door behind them and came along the gallery. When he and the pair met, they all halted.
Minchinbury spoke. “I’ve explained the terms of the will to the duchess. She understands that you are sole executor and also her son’s co-guardian, and comprehends the rights that are yours by virtue of those facts.”
Julian felt his lips twist. “And how did she take that news?”
Minchinbury grimaced. “Not well, but she had to be told. At least she now knows and understands the situation.”
“We also informed her of the financial straits the late duke left behind.” Draper’s lips primmed. “I explained that, contrary to her long-held belief, you have never drained any undue resources from the estate, and that the current situation has arisen entirely through the late duke’s depredations. We did not, of course, venture to explain your plan, although we did allude to the fact that you had one, and that, given the situation, we believe it is the only route by which the family, and indeed the dukedom, can be saved from financial devastation.”
Julian looked from one to the other. “Let me see if I understand this correctly—you’ve left the duchess knowing that whatever I propose, she must agree if she wishes to save herself and her son from ruin?”
Both men thought, then both nodded. “We”—Minchinbury flicked a glance at Draper—“have been privy to the duchess’s view of you, my lord, and considered it our duty to clarify matters for Her Grace so that your words should fall on more fertile soil.”
Draper nodded. “Least we could do to assist you with your plan.”
Julian inclined his head. “Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your assistance.”
Both bowed and stepped back. Minchinbury said, “If you need any assistance subsequently, my lord, please know you have only to ask.”
Julian nodded and continued along the corridor. Reaching Caroline’s