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R oland was the first to speak. “What the blazes are you doing here, Belinda?”

She could ask him the same thing—how was it that Roland was now in cahoots with Darvill?

“I came to prevent a selfish act on your part, Mr. Darvill. A mother has every right to keep her child.” No man could ever know what it felt like to bear a child.

Darvill wasn’t looking well, she realized, ignoring a prick of guilt. In the light of her lamp, the shadows of his face looked deeper, whereas those parts picked out by the light looked deathly pale.

She’d confounded him. He didn’t have a word to say for himself. Good.

Roland waved his hand, so she backed into the hallway, and he entered.

Like a puppet suddenly coming to life when its strings are pulled, Darvill jerked into movement and followed Roland.

He slammed the door behind him, strode into the hallway and brushed past her into the parlor.

She followed and set her lantern on the mantelshelf.

The man’s anger was palpable, and her courage wavered.

“Do you know what you’ve done, Belinda?” She’d never seen Roland so furious. But surely, this whole affair was to do with Darvill, not him? Why was he so upset? “I think we’d all better sit down.”

Ignoring Roland’s suggestion, Darvill walked woodenly toward the empty fireplace and stationed himself with an elbow against the mantelpiece. Then his whole frame sagged, and she realized he was relying on the mantelpiece to keep him upright.

She’d successfully foiled his plans but couldn’t understand why he was so devastated.

Had he been so desperate, then, to recruit another child to do his spying for him?

Why had he decided to go for Oliver in particular?

Miss Lavoisier had not enlightened her on that point.

Darvill must have anticipated a refusal, or he wouldn’t have taken such a clandestine approach.

She’d been right to warn the mother. Miss Lavoisier’s response to Belinda’s news that Darvill was on his way was all the proof she needed that this woman already knew the man, was afraid of him, and meant to avoid him at all costs.

She’d started giving commands to the little boy and stuffing their possessions into cases almost as soon as Belinda was through the door.

Having been begged to delay any pursuit, Belinda had remained behind, ready to waylay Darvill. His arrival with Roland in tow had confused her, however, and now they were both reacting as if she’d kicked a puppy.

“Belinda, you don’t know what you’ve done!” Roland sank into a chair and hid his face in his hands. Belinda glanced at Darvill and saw that he, too, had covered his face.

She backed toward a chair and collapsed into it. Why all this emotion? Surely Darvill had only wanted some kind of business arrangement with the boy? Anyway, whatever Roland or Darvill said, the boy had looked far too young to be involved in any nefarious schemes.

“Will somebody please tell me what has caused such a melodramatic reaction?” She couldn’t keep a wobble of uncertainty from her voice.

Roland shot her a look that made her quail.

“It’s not my story to tell. It’s up to Darvill if he wants you to know, but it’s really none of your business.

Since when did you start meddling in other people’s affairs, Belinda?

I should never have supported you in that Lyon’s Den scheme.

I thought your scapegrace days were over, but evidently, we were all mistaken about that. ”

To hear such harsh words from someone whom she considered her friend and protector was painful. She turned to Darvill but was unable to meet his gaze.

After a long pause, during which the atmosphere in the room grew ever colder, he pushed away from the mantelpiece and took the one remaining chair.

“You’ve just allowed the mother of my child to evade me again.

I gave her, and the boy, the freedom she required for six years, but enough is enough.

I need to be married, I need an heir, someone who will eventually take over my businesses and inherit my fortune.

Oliver is my son, and therefore the only person entitled to do so.

I trust that is sufficient claim on the boy to satisfy even you, Miss Bellamy. ”

Oliver was his son? No, she could not believe it. They looked nothing alike. But there was no trace of deceit on Darvill’s face. Oh! How could she have made such a terrible mistake?

“But Miss Lavoisier—she didn’t tell me that!”

“What did she tell you?” Darvill’s tone was icy.

“Why, that she was an actress at the Old Forum who wanted to make her own way and travel about the country. You refused her request to leave and have hounded her ever since. Now you’ve discovered her whereabouts and the fact she has a child, you’re even more determined that she return to the fold because you like recruiting children to act as spies for you.

Knowing how you’ve treated Tom Haggar, I was determined to stop you. ”

“And exactly how have I treated Tom Haggar? Like the father he never had, that’s how I’ve treated him.

I’ve given him money to try to keep him on the straight and narrow, plus the odd little errand to run so he can feel he’s earned it, like a normal boy.

Unfortunately, much of it goes to fund his mother’s drinking habit, but I’ve never tried to wrest him from the only home and family he has, however inadequate they may be.

I haven’t given up on the boy, and still live in hope that he may see sense and take up an apprenticeship. ”

“So do I!” Belinda interrupted. “I want the best for Tom. Is this why you wanted to recruit little Oliver, because Tom will no longer be available?”

“Of course not, foolish chit. Aren’t you listening to a word I’ve said?”

Without realizing it, Belinda was now standing up, breast-to-breast with Darvill, and her face was level with his cravat and its lion-headed tie pin.

She could feel the enmity emanating from his body, but was too stubborn to step away, despite the sting of tears in her eyes.

Why was everyone being so horrid, when she’d done a Good Thing?

“I’ll spell it out for you, Miss Bellamy, but you must swear to keep this to yourself.”

She nodded, dumbly. She’d forgotten Roland’s presence—it was as if the whole world had sunk to a tiny little island, with no one upon it but herself and Darvill, locked in a bloodless but bruising battle.

“When I reached my majority, I decided that I needed to cut a dash in London, so the ton would not just associate me with ‘Trade.’ In truth, I do have noble blood, but that’s a story for another day.

As far as I could tell, any gentleman worth his salt must have a mistress, or be rumored to have one.

Since I’d already become interested in the theater and all its workings, I found myself often in the company of actresses, and one in particular caught my eye. ”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Many of those actresses, opera dancers, and singers are splendid to look at, as well as watch and listen to.”

Darvill rolled his eyes, and Belinda wished Roland were not in the room with them. Darvill’s confession was something he would have preferred to share with her alone—she was certain of it.

“Roland—hadn’t you better go out and ensure we have a conveyance to take us home?”

“Seconded.” Darvill turned to stare at Roland, who flushed, then marched out of the house.

As soon as he was gone, Belinda wondered if she’d done the right thing.

Piers Darvill was so very tall and broad-shouldered, and from the way he’d handled the horses the other day, she knew him to be strong.

And he was extremely angry with her. He could break her in half like a wisp of straw—but he wasn’t the sort to use violent means.

Was he likely to hold a grudge? She hoped not.

If she didn’t stop imagining the worst, she’d end up having a fit of the vapors, which was the last thing she wanted to do in front of this man.

“Pray, go on with your story, sir.”

“I don’t wish to offend your sensibilities.”

“You’ll find I’m not easily shocked. If I’m in the wrong, then please, don’t spare me the details.”

“I consorted with several ladies. But to one, and one only, I gave my heart. Her name is Charlotte Lavoisier, though she changes it to a stage name sometimes. Having met her, you can see she must have been a beauty. I assume she still is, even though she’s seven years older, and has borne a child.

That child is mine. Charlotte ran away when she discovered she was enceinte, and I’ve never had a clear explanation from her as to the reason why.

Sometimes, I wonder if there was another man involved, who forced her to go away—the owner of one of these traveling troupes of players, perhaps.

She was always very popular, and never without work.

Whatever her reasons, I was to have no part in the bringing up of the boy, no involvement whatsoever—not even the opportunity to meet him. ”

Belinda twisted her fingers together. It was beginning to look like she’d made the most terrible mistake.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see your son, sir. He’s a very handsome boy.”

She bit her lip. This wasn’t making things any better.

“I offered the lady my hand as well as my heart, but it seemed all she wanted was my money. She contacted a lawyer at Lincoln’s Inn, who then inquired after me, and a sum was agreed for Oliver’s upkeep.

I’ve been paying it quarterly ever since.

I’ve left letters with the lawyer, and I’ve waited in the rain, the sleet, and freezing winter nights to see if Charlotte herself will come to fetch the money, but thus far, she’s evaded me.

I can’t spend every waking hour watching a lawyer’s office—too many people depend upon me for their livelihoods.

I also have important work to do in the fight against Napoleon—but that also is another story. There’s only so much one man can do.”

It was almost as if he was apologizing for not having done enough. Belinda nodded mutely.

“You probably know the rest of the tale, Miss Bellamy. My use of Tom’s dubious contacts and Chetwynd’s investigative skills led me to this address when both the woman and the child were in residence.

I hoped that, by seeing her in person, I could persuade Charlotte to marry me and let me legitimize the boy. ”

Darvill broke eye contact as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. Lines of pain edged his mouth, and she understood that everything he’d said was true. She’d never felt more wretched in her life.

It felt wrong—when she’d wrung such a confession out of him—to not be offering words of comfort.

Or actions. But was it him that needed comforting, or her?

They were standing so close together that a single step would have brought her within the circle of his arms, and she wondered, with a leap of her heart, what it would feel like to be there.

She pushed the tempting, terrifying thought away.

“I suppose, Mr. Darvill, that the lady has given you some proof that the boy is yours. I don’t mean to impugn her honesty, but it’s always possible that he’s not your offspring.

You have taken what she says on trust—perhaps because you wanted it to be true rather than believed it to be so. ”

He rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed deep into her eyes.

“If I were not so tempted to dislike you at this moment, Miss Bellamy, I might be complimenting you on your cleverness, your insight, and compassion. You’re truly more complicated a being than I expected, but you’re also a dangerous woman who doesn’t know when to let go.

I hope from now on, you’ll stay out of trouble, cease courting scandal, and keep as far away from me as possible. ”

His words cut like a knife. As she stepped back, pressing her hands over her stomach, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes again.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve made you dislike me.

I thought I was doing a good deed, but apparently, I’ve made things worse.

I know you won’t thank me for this, but I think that before you judge me, you should make sure that Miss Charlotte Lavoisier has been telling you the truth.

It won’t do any harm, I suppose, for me to tell you that the boy did not look like you, nor did he have your coloring—and he seems rather young to be your son if you’re saying that the lady fell pregnant six or seven years ago.

I’ve had plenty of experience with small children, and I wouldn’t have put him at much more than four years of age, very likely less. ”

His fingers grasped her shoulders, and he pulled her toward him. “You don’t know when to stop, do you, Miss Bellamy? I know what the boy looks like.” He released her and patted his breast pocket. “I was sent a portrait—it is with me always.”

“Then I’m truly, completely, and utterly devastated at what I have inadvertently done to you. I’ve been deceitful, selfish, and silly, and my attempt to do good has gone cruelly awry. I’ll do whatever I can to put things right.”

It was as much as Belinda could do not to fling her arms around his neck and beg him for forgiveness. But the idea that he would immediately push her away was too painful to contemplate, and she knew that was exactly what he would do.

Darvill’s head tipped back. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Bellamy. I suggest you go and join Chetwynd and allow yourself to be taken straight back to George Street. Forgive me if I choose not to share a carriage with you.”

So that was it. She had to turn her back and walk away from him, knowing how much pain she’d inflicted. It was too much to bear, but she could think of nothing else she could say or do. She could only hope never to cross paths with Piers Darvill again.