Lady in Rags

Chapter Forty: Courting Trouble

"I believe I promised you that you never would," she said. "I have broken that promise. I found it necessary. My Lord, I was in error, and made the wrong promise before."

"The wrong promise?" He raised an eyebrow. It was a move so evocative of Neil's expressions, and so alien to his character, that Verity felt sick at the sight of it. "Elaborate."

"I believe you told me that I must be either your son's mistress, and this child his and not mine, or this is my child, and I am not his mistress. Well, I was his mistress. I am. I shall be until the day he dies. I cannot deny it, no matter how much I wish to have this child as well. The child is his. Your grandchild." Her voice shook at the admission. "Will you let me now choose the other side of the deal? I shall not renege again. With time, I have realized my true position."

He considered it for some time in silence, pacing back and forth in front of the windows. Verity stood silently and waited. Mrs Roper made one or two attempts to speak, but thought the better of it each time, and kept quiet.

"I will take it in writing," Lord Albroke said eventually. "It is the only way I can be sure. State your position, and sign it."

"If you will do the same," Verity answered.

There was the hint of a smile when he met her gaze. She did not like it. "Very well. What would you have me say? Here – Mrs Roper, ring the bell, and you and the butler shall witness it."

The pause gave Verity time to think. She realized she had a chance to perhaps forestall the inevitable suit of annulment against their marriage, if the wording was subtle enough. Lord Albroke's eyes were cold and triumphant upon her. She bowed her head to escape them.

"What shall I write?" he pressed.

"Get the pen, the paper," she said. "Quickly now, Lord Albroke, I am not good with words and I find it hard to keep them straight in my mind."

He lumbered through the contents of his desk, giving her the time to check her phrasing. When he had the pen in his hand, and two fresh sheets of paper, he sat down and looked enquiringly up at her. "Well?"

"I, Lord Albroke," she began statefully.

"Oh? So proscriptive?" he said mockingly, dipping the nib in the inkwell and beginning to write. "Continue."

"Agree that I shall not challenge, morally or practically, the attachment between Verity Baker and my son, Neil, the formally intimate nature of which accords the woman some rights to his society and person, which are also protected from my challenge, and I agree shall be recognized as vulnerable alone to Neil's revocation, according to his sensible choice."

He finished writing as the butler entered, and looked up. "Jackson, I need you to witness this, and one other. Mrs Roper?"

The two servants scrawled their own names at the bottom of the paper. Lord Albroke wafted it gently in the air to allow the ink to dry a little, before placing it tantalizingly on the desk in front of Verity

"You must think me a brute of a man."

"You are."

"Perhaps." She still did not like his smile. He passed another sheet of paper over the desk, and held out the pen. "It is your turn."

She took the pen and bent over the desk. She knew she would have to break this document if Neil died, and knew too that she could only rely on Lord Albroke keeping his word as long as she was pregnant. But it gave her time. And he did not know of their secret marriage, or he would not be smiling now.

"I, Verity Baker," he mocked, "Avow that upon the birth of my child I shall relinquish all claim to it and impart it to the custody of its father, Neil Armiger, or, in the event of his death, his heir as named by law. I further promise that upon the event of Neil Armiger's death, I shall no more associate, in public or in private, with the Armiger family or name or the Albroke title, excepting in the duty of giving birth to and carrying Neil's child." He paused. "It's a bit untidy, but I think it covers it."