The Determined Lord Hadleigh. Virginia Heath
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as much the moment the King’s Men had stormed into her house and arrested him. Later, the lawyer’s case had been convincing and thorough, and while she felt stupid at her own ignorance and ashamed of her own cowardice to question that ignorance, so many things she had seen or heard during the final year of her marriage suddenly made perfect sense once all the pieces of the puzzle were finally slotted together.
Lord Hadleigh had done that. So much so, it had given her the confidence to stand up to her husband by telling the truth and she had resigned herself to hearing a guilty verdict.
Resigned was the wrong word.
It suggested she was dreading the verdict, when the opposite was true. While she had not expected a peer of the realm to receive the death penalty, she had anticipated a guilty verdict and a life blessedly free from Penhurst afterwards. Looked forward to it eagerly—something which caused her guilt late at night when sleep eluded her. Whatever Penhurst had done, he was still the father of her son. Something she knew she would one day have to explain to her little boy.
Was it wrong to be completely relieved to be free of him? Or to have helped him on his way by testifying against him the moment fate had given her the chance? For five months, she had consoled herself that she had done the right thing for Freddie’s sake so that he could grow into the man he was meant to be rather than one tainted and poisoned by his sire’s warped morals.
The lawyer’s guilty conscience suddenly made her question the validity of the trial. Had Lord Hadleigh embellished the truth or lied? Covered important and pertinent details up? Fabricated evidence? She sincerely hoped not. Penny did not want to have any of her relief at the tumultuous end of her marriage dampened. She had hated Penhurst and was glad he was dead. Felt no guilt at his violent passing whatsoever. But guilt might well explain why the lawyer had paid her rent for an entire year.
* * *
‘I don’t want your blood money!’
‘Blood money?’ Her harsh words took him aback. ‘I can assure you, madam, my gift was nothing of the sort.’ Hadleigh raked an agitated hand through his hair and began to pace. The very idea was as preposterous as it was insulting and he wanted to loudly proclaim his utter disgust at the suggestion. He was a principled man who believed in right and wrong. Good and evil. Justice and truth. A man who righted wrongs, not caused them. How dare she even suggest his motives were fuelled by...what? Malpractice? Deceit? Wrongdoing? And on what evidence was his good reputation so unfairly besmirched?
But as he paced the worn old rug on the hard, scuffed wooden floor, took in the mismatched furniture, the cramped and basic surroundings alongside the proud and clearly frightened woman stood before him, he couldn’t help but remember a similar scene years ago. And another time when he had attempted to rescue a woman who flatly refused to be rescued because there was nothing she needed to be rescued from.
Absolutely nothing.
Hadleigh realised that losing his temper now, just as it had done then, would not help her at all. Better to stick to reason, logic and the truth and keep emotion well out of it.
‘I can see why you would jump to that conclusion, so please allow me to reassure you. My actions had nothing to do with guilt regarding your husband or the way his trial was carried out. I am sorry if you find that difficult to hear, but on that score I am remorseless...’ Good grief! Hardly the best way to win her over and accept his benevolence in the spirit it was intended. ‘I acted as I did more out of a sense of regret that you had to suffer more than was necessary and completely unjustly. If the Crown refused to see you right, then someone needed to. I am a wealthy man, so it was no hardship for me to help. Consider it my penance for failing to get the Crown to see sense.’ He was righting a wrong. It was that simple.
‘That does not explain why you saw fit to have me spied upon these past months.’
‘I didn’t have you spied upon.’ So much for sticking to reason, logic and the truth. Hadleigh found himself wincing. She had a perfectly valid reason to be angry with him and now that he was seeing it all through her eyes, he had made a royal hash of it. ‘All right... I suppose in a manner of speaking I did, but again it was not done with any malice. After you had been left with nothing—through no fault of your own, I might add—I needed to reassure myself you and your child were coping all alone. When the Runner informed me you were selling your jewellery...’
‘Insignificant pieces to which I had no attachment.’ Her pretty face flushed as she resolutely avoided her friends’ sympathetic eyes and he realised he had inadvertently put his big, fat foot in it again. Like his mother, she was too ashamed of her situation to accept help despite none of it being her fault. ‘Things given to me by a husband which I would prefer to forget and mine to dispose of as I see fit.’ Despite the fact that both her friends, and he, knew she was pawning her mother’s jewellery to pay her monthly bills, she was still labouring under the misapprehension that her friends, at least, didn’t. ‘I no longer wanted any reminders of him in my house.’
She was proud in the face of defeat and his heart wept for her. His hands wanted to touch her, tug her into his arms and hold her close. What was that about, aside from the bone-deep exhaustion which came from weeks of sleeplessness? No wonder his emotions were a tad frayed and close to the surface. ‘A perfectly understandable reason to sell them and one which makes me sorrier my heavy-handed and unnecessary response has caused you both worry and embarrassment.’
‘I am not in need of charity, Lord Hadleigh.’
‘That I can plainly see, my lady.’ Blast it all to hell, he had gone about this all wrong. Pride always came before a fall and, like his mother, this one would rather suffer in silence than allow the world to see her pain. He, of all people, should have pre-empted such a reaction. ‘And once again, I humbly apologise for insulting you. It was well intentioned, although, I concede, highly inappropriate and misguided.’
It was time to make a hasty retreat before he was backed into a corner of his own making and forced into rescinding his gift before she had had time to mull over the many benefits of it. Given a little time, and the obvious easing of her financial burdens, she might be convinced to keep it.
‘I really meant no offence, or to cause you worry of any kind. Although I can see that my ham-fisted, overbearing and overzealous attempt at helping you has done exactly that, and for that I am sorry. This has most definitely not been my finest hour. But know that I am on your side whether you want me to be or not.’ From his pocket he produced a calling card which he gently pressed into her hand, making it impossible for her to refuse it. For some reason, his fingers longed to linger so he quickly snatched them away.
‘What I should have done all those months ago, rather than put a watch on you, was simply this. Should you need anything...anything at all...money, help...a ham-fisted but well-meaning friend...all you need do is ask. Whatever it is, whenever it is, send word to this address and I will move heaven and earth to see it done.’ Before she could respond he bowed. ‘Good day to you, Lady Penhurst. Thank you for allowing me the chance to explain and to see for myself the error of my ways. You have been most gracious.’ Then, with the swiftest and politest of nods to the room in general, he promptly turned and marched swiftly out the door.
Three days of silence lulled him into a false sense of security, so Hadleigh wasn’t expecting his clerk to inform him she had turned up at his chambers unannounced, wishing to speak to him. While the clerk went to fetch her, he braced himself for another difficult conversation and was not disappointed. She arrived ramrod straight and proud, only her eyes giving him any indication she was nowhere near as confident as she wanted to portray. They were wide and restless, darting every which way before finally settling on him stood politely behind his paper-strewn desk.
‘Please forgive the intrusion, Lord Hadleigh, but I needed to speak with you.’
The gaunt, pale woman from the courtroom was gone and clearly her appetite had improved in the intervening