Page 58 of The Art of Sinning

Desperation gripped Yvette. Heedless of Mrs. Beard’s threatening presence in the office behind her, she grabbed Sally’s arm. “Just tell me one more thing—did Miss Moreton take the child with her?”

“Thechild?” Jeremy growled behind Yvette.

She ignored him. “The boy. Did she take the boy with her?”

Sally looked frightened now. “Please, miss,” she murmured, tugging free of Yvette’s hand. “I gotta go.”

“It’s time you leave, too,” Mrs. Beard said to Yvette.

“No!” Yvette whirled on the abbess. “I have to know what happened to the boy. Did he go with Miss Moreton? Do you haveanyidea where they went? He’d be about four years old.”

Mrs. Beard started out of the office, but Jeremy stepped into the doorway to block her.

She scowled. “I want yer friend gone.”

“I’m not leaving until I find out what happened to Miss Moreton’s boy!” Yvette cried.

People were coming out of the other rooms now, curious about the ruckus.

Mrs. Beard glared up at Jeremy. “Ye’d best get yer friend under control.”

“Let me talk to her.” Reaching inside his coat pocket, he pulled out a handful of guineas. “In private.”

The woman’s expression grew more speculative. “In private, eh?”

An argument erupted somewhere on the top floor, and she muttered a curse. Snatching the guineas, Mrs. Beard said, “Fine. I’d best go take care of that lot upstairs anyway. Use my office.” A knowing glint shone in her eye. “Just don’t get it too messy.”

Messy? Oh, Lord, she thought they were going to dothatin her office?

Before Yvette could protest her assumption, Jeremy nodded grimly and stepped aside to let the woman leave. With an amused glance, the abbess pushed past and swaggered down the hall, barking at people to mind their own business.

Yvette glowered at him. “You... you let her think that you and I—”

Jerking her into the office, he shut the door and locked it, then stared her down. “So that’s what this was about. Finding a child.”

All her indignation vanished. He knew the truth. And now he’d expect to know everything. “Yes.” She pushed back the hood of her cloak and removed her mask. If she was going to explain herself, she wanted him to look her in the eye while she did it.

Swearing, he began to pace. “I heard this was how the English handled their by-blows, but I never thought to see it done so badly or callously. Didn’t you bother to keep track of the boy’s nurse? Didn’t you pay her enough to take care of him on her own?”

That flummoxed her. “Pay her enough! What are you talking about?”

“The child you obviously handed over to someone else to raise.” As he rounded on her, icy anger and betrayal glimmered in his gaze. “The son you obviously bore Lieutenant Ruston.”

Fourteen

When Yvette gaped at him, Jeremy stared her down, unable to suppress his anger. No doubt she was surprised that he’d ferreted out her secret. All this time, she’d been chidinghimfor his presumed debauchery while she’d been hiding her own.

What a hypocrite! Hehatedhypocrites.

And true to form for hypocrites, she went on the offensive at once. “You think... You have theaudacityto suggest that I bore an illegitimate child!”

“Do you deny it?”

“Of course I deny it! It’s not true!”

Her certainty and the outrage in her voice gave him pause. But what other response could he expect of a respectable English lady? She certainly wasn’t going to admit it flat out. That was why the Foundling Hospital in London was so well-funded—­gently bred women who found themselves in the family way were happy to support the institution that secretly took their by-blows.

She marched up to him, eyes flashing fire. “And how did you hear of Lieutenant Ruston, anyway?”