Page 96 of The Art of Sinning

The sudden softness in her gaze started an unfamiliar fluttering in his belly. “Very well,” she said. “But if I am not to go, I want to know one thing.” She turned an anxious gaze on Bonnaud. “When you met with Miss Moreton, was the boy there?”

“Elias? Yes.”

She folded her hands together at her waist as if to hold her emotions in. “How did he seem?”

“He wasn’t suffering, if that’s what you’re worried about. But he was also very quiet. Too quiet for a four-year-old, if you ask me.” When worry crossed her face, Bonnaud added hastily, “But then, I don’t know much about children.”

She nodded, but her concerned expression didn’t abate.

Jeremy hated seeing it. “We’ll set things right, sweetheart. I promise you.”

The endearment made Yvette glance nervously at Bonnaud, but the investigator took a sudden interest in straightening the papers of his report.

Meanwhile, her brother was watching her with a wary expression. “I assume you still think we should have Meredith raise the boy with her own son.”

“I think it would be best, yes.”

“At my expense, I suppose,” Blakeborough grumbled.

“Well, not entirely,” she said. “I... um... probably should have mentioned this before, but I never posted that letter Samuel gave me. I held on to it in case we found her. What’s more, he implied that the contents would secure the future of Miss Moreton and her child.”

“What?” the earl said. “Why didn’t you reveal this before?”

She steadied her shoulders. “You were determined to believe the worst of Samuel. I hardly thought hearing about any financial help for her would change anything. And we couldn’t know what it was anyway until we found Miss Moreton and gave her the letter.”

“The devil we couldn’t.” Blakeborough held out his hand. “Give me the damned envelope.”

“Not if you intend to open it.”

“You haven’t even looked inside?” the earl said incredulously, echoing Jeremy’s own surprise.

“I have not. He made me swear not to.”

“Ididn’t make any such promise,” Blakeborough said, “so give it to me, and I’ll open it.”

“No.” She clutched the missive to her breast. “Samuel did me a great service once, and I shan’t betray his trust.”

Realizing what she meant, Jeremy scowled at the earl. “Tell her. She deserves to know.”

“Tell me what?” she asked.

With a furtive glance at Bonnaud, who was listening intently, Blakeborough muttered, “Nothing. But I’ll need the letter, if only to bring it to Miss Moreton.”

Yvette tipped up her chin. “I shall give it to Mr. Keane once we reach London. I know I can trusthimto follow my wishes.”

Jeremy stared hard at the earl, willing him to finally tell her the entire truth about Samuel.

But Blakeborough merely grimaced. “Fine. Do as you please. Keane and Bonnaud and I will go today to meet the damned woman.”

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Jeremy cut in without stopping to consider. When all eyes turned to him, he said, “I’m nearly finished with the portrait. I can be done today if I can have a few more hours with Lady Yvette.”

“There’s no need to finish the portrait, now that you and my sister—” The earl halted, quelled by another hard glance from Jeremy. Understanding finally dawned. “Oh. Right.”

Jeremy continued. “Meanwhile, Bonnaud can re­­turn to the city with Amanda. Then his lordship and I can leave for London first thing tomorrow. If that’s all right with everyone.”

He still needed to convince Yvette to marry him. If he left for London today he’d be caught up in the snare of dealing with his family, and Yvette would remain here, firming her objections to his suit with every passing moment.

That wasn’t to be borne. He had to make another try.