Or he was not, and she was the clever beauty he had fallen in love with.
He ran out of his house, grabbing his coat and barely strapping the saddle onto his horse before bolting down the street in the direction of the pamphleteer’s publishing house.
The clerk in the publisher’s office would not give him Lady Justice’s address or name. Leam asked to see the letter from the anonymous lady. The clerk refused. Leam put money on the table. The clerk treated him to a pointed speech on journalistic integrity and the arrogance of the aristocratic class.
Leam threatened legal action. The clerk rang a bell on his desk, and a burly fellow who looked like he could load crates onto ships with his bare hands walked into the chamber and gave Leam a dark look.
Leam did not have any particular desire to spend the next fortnight in bed nursing broken bones.
He departed, leaving his card and a request that should Lady Justice find it in her heart to pay him a call, he would be much obliged. Perhaps Gray’s methods had some merit.
He could not sleep, and the following morning stole himself to pay a call at the house where he was least wanted. He knocked on Kitty’s door. The footman opened it, round eyes brightening noticeably.
“Milord!”
“Is Lady Katherine in?”
“No, milord. She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
The fellow nodded, his wig bobbing up and down.
“Lady Katherine has gone to Shropshire, my lord.” The housekeeper stood at the far end of the foyer, a spark in her eye.
“Shropshire.” His blood pounded. “Are you certain of this?”
“Quite, sir. My mistress has recently been wed and is on her wedding trip in Brighton. Lady Katherine set out for Shropshire yesterday.”
“Alone?” God, no.
“With Madame Roche, my lord.”
Leam released a pent-up breath. “Thank you.” He cast a nod at the footman and went to his horse.
He must pay a call before he took to the road. He hadn’t any idea why Kitty thought Cox had lost his cameo, or why Cox might think Leam had it, or what it had to do with him at all. But she must know something about the man that he did not. She had brought down a lord committing treason against the crown through years of quietly observing others, of listening and paying close attention.
Now her cleverness and bravery had dislodged his own brain from bemusement. The parts would not come together, but they were tantalizingly close.
Without waiting for Cornelia to come to him, he went straight along the corridor, the manservant glowering at his shoulder. He found her in a bedchamber strewn with gowns and underclothing. A traveling trunk sat amid it all.
“Leam!” She leaped up from a table at which she was taking tea. “What are you doing here?”
“Where are you going?” He gestured to the scene of packing.
“To Alvamoor, of course. To see my son,” she added hastily.
He moved toward her. She cowered. He had never wanted that, but now he had no patience for her histrionics.
“Cornelia, what do you know of a man named David Cox?”
Her cheeks went white. “What should I know?”
Leam’s heart raced. “You do know him, then. How? What is your connection with him?”
She slid from behind the table and moved across the chamber. “Whatever are you talking about, Leam?” Her voice trembled. “I told you, since I ran away I have not been with any man, only my parents and my companion, Chiara.” She turned wide eyes upon him, gold lashes fanning outward.
“Did you know Cox before our marriage?”
She twisted a napkin between her pale fingers, her eyes abruptly distressed. “What do you wish me to say?”
“The truth, Cornelia. After all these years of lies, I deserve it from you.”
“I did.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her hands banded about the napkin. “I knew him before.”
“When?”
Her eyes opened, full of uncertainty. “Your brother introduced me to him. They were in the same regiment. Is that what you wish to hear?”
“Did you give him a cameo?”
“A—a cameo?”
“Perhaps a portrait of yourself. Or of James.”
“Of James?”
“Did you?”
“Yes!” The word seemed to tear out of her. “Yes. A picture of me. He begged me for it.” She pressed the linen against her mouth. “What will you do now, Leam? Will you punish me for it?”
“I never meant to punish you, Cornelia. I hurt, and I did not understand why you and James could not have told me the truth before it was too late.” It seemed so simple now. So honest.
“I wish I had.” A tear escaped her eye and dripped over her knuckles pressed to her cheek. “Maybe then you would have forgiven me.”
“Sooner than I did, probably.” But then he might not have known Kitty. He would not have known love.
“Have you forgiven me, Leam?”
He nodded.
“Then why won’t you take me back?”
“Cornelia.” Tension gripped him. He must be off to Shropshire without further delay. But her gaze beckoned and he wanted this finished once and for all. “Why have you come back? I know you don’t care about your son. So then, what do you want of me?”
She drew the linen away and her lips quivered, a second tear escaping.
“I do care about Jamie, and I don’t want anything from you,” she whispered. “He does.”
Leam’s blood stilled. “Tell me now.”
Her eyes were round as saucers. “His business went horribly wrong in America. He needs money desperately and says he will hurt Jamie if I don’t get the funds from you and give them to him.” Her tone had risen.
“Who, Cornelia?”
“David! Don’t you see? He was so greedy. I did not understand it at first, but then he wanted so much. More than I could give him even with the generous allowance you provided me. Then the baby came so soon after our wedding and James died and I could not think straight. I was frightened of you and David, and so confused.”
“Cornelia,” Leam broke into her mounting agitation. “Why does David Cox need this cameo?”
“He lost it in Shropshire at that inn. He thought you took it, and he was wild with fear that you were playing him to frighten him. He searched your bedchambers on Christmas night when you were all playing cards, he said, but he could not find it. So he thought that if you were dead he would get the money anyway through me once I returned to society, so he tried to shoot you. But that went awry and he realized he was not a murderer after all, even though he is a horrid thief and extortionist.”
“Why would I have been playing him? About what?”
“He thought I had told you everything already and that you didn’t care because you were with Lady Katherine now.”
“What? ”
But she seemed not to hear him, her words tumbling forth swiftly. “When I would not go to Alvamoor to show you I was alive and seek money from you, he threatened her so that you would come to London and I would be forced to meet you. I told him I would not, even so, that I would return to Italy and you would never know. But he vowed he would go to Alvamoor and hurt my son. I could not allow that to happen, Leam. I have not seen little Jamie in five years but he is my flesh and blood and I always loved him. I pray you to believe me!”
“I do.” It was too fantastical to disbelieve, and her eyes rolled with the same manic distress as on that day she’d told him about her affair with James. “But I still do not understand, Cornelia. What is this cameo to him?”
“His insurance, but only until he needs it. I inscribed it before I gave it to him.”
“What is the inscription?”