Haverford picked up the object he had brought with him from the sofa beside him and pushed it towards Nick. A large square wrapped in oilcloth. "Here. You probably helped choose some of these. I know I did."
It was a hardbound scrapbook, with the innocuous title painted in watercolour on the front: Lady Sarah's Curiosities.
With a sick feeling pooling in his stomach, Nick used the tip of one finger to open the cover.
Bella came up behind her husband, just in time to steady him when he swayed on his feet. When she looked over his shoulder, she gasped.
"He has been sending things like this to her since she was fifteen, Nick." Haverford said. "Fifteen! Grooming her into corruption. Lady Athol intercepted a letter and has kept it all this time, waiting to watch my little girl fall. And I want to see that bitch pay for such perfidy. But Abersham started it. He got his taste with the maids, then turned his sights on my Sally."
"I cannot..." Nick started, then trailed off. "I find myself at a loss for words. This is...."
Cherry shook her head. "He did nothing without her full cooperation, and very probably was as unwillingly led into trouble as he was when they were both toddling our nurseries. Not one thing either of them has even been caught doing that involved the other was purely the fault of just one of them."
"She was fifteen, Cherry, and a complete innocent."
Cherry retorted, "He was but eleven months older, as he always has been, and if he was not an innocent, Bella and I know exactly who to blame for that."
"It is shameful! This book, the fact he knew enough to curate such an abhorrent collection, and that he learned such depravity from his own father and godfather. It is all shameful." Bella exclaimed. "But the fault lies with both of our children. The book says 'Lady Sarah's Curiosities,' not 'Lord Abersham's Love Letters.'"
"Yes," Nick said, inordinately pleased his wife thought more quickly than he did in a crisis. "Yes, both of them are to blame, and the best way to mitigate the scandal is their immediate marriage."
"If we had a groom, that would be considerably easier to accomplish," Cherry said with a wry smile.
Nick topped up his glass and pushed the decanter toward Haverford again, then flipped through the book, wincing on more than one occasion. Blakeley brought in the tea makings while he browsed, and Bella prepared tea for Cherry and herself, her lips pursed.
Finally, Haverford asked, "Was I right?" Nick just nodded and shut the book, pushing it to the other side of the table.
"And the blame goes also to both of our husbands," Cherry reiterated, with Bella nodding approval. "Do not even think of obscuring your part in this. If my daughter was curious about part of her best friend's life that she could not share, who can be surprised? And he was not nearly old, or emotionally mature, enough to be steeped in debauchery. How can you think he would have the wisdom or vocabulary to speak to her of such things without inciting further curiosity and offering up inappropriate information? How can you think he would be satisfied with fallen women when he could imagine intimate congress with the woman he loved?" Cherry held up a hand to stay Haverford's words. "She was not yet out of the schoolroom, but he far less of a man than you taught him to think he was. They were still almost children. Ill-advised, shockingly inappropriate, and terrifyingly ignorant of consequence. But children often are all those things."
Bella nodded decisively. "They are adults now. An immediate marriage is the answer. I will send Captain Hawley to find Abersham as soon as a carriage can take me to the docks."
Haverford drew himself to his feet. "Your Graces will forgive me if, at this time, I am not prepared to countenance a marriage between our houses. I have stood between Sally and one attacker. I will stand between her and this treacherous snake that deceived me in my own house, whether she wishes it or not. Your son..." he choked back what sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Your son may or may not be able to be dragged back from Italy and forced to agree to wed my daughter. But my daughter will not be here. We are leaving in three days."
Bella stood. "Dragged back and forced? Treacherous...? My god, Haverford. You have lost your senses. You do a cruel and heartless thing to two children you profess to love, if you remove Sarah from England before David returns."
"My son has in no way deceived anyone," Nick roared. "He is an honourable man who will cherish your daughter until the end of time, and it is unconscionable you would do such a horrible thing to him. And yes, to your own daughter, too."
Haverford was on his feet too. "Cruel and heartless? Where is he, Bella? She has been waiting for him since Christmas. Every promise he has made he has reneged on, and still he stays away. Still there are no messages. I would not have thought it of him, but then I would not have thought that of him, either." He stabbed a finger at the scrapbook.
Bella faced him, equally angry. "Travel is what is treacherous, Haverford. Anything could have delayed him. I will not believe my son intends to abandon Sally until I hear it from his own mouth. And I will not condemn either child, no matter what they've done."
"Bella," Cherry begged. "You must see that Sally cannot stay in England, where the curiosity seekers invade even into our house and the wolves cluster waiting to attack. If we only knew David's intentions..."
"We have had no letters, either, Haverford," Nick said, his volume lessening in a way that wasn't comforting. "But that is my fault. What reason has he to write to a father who has disowned him? Bella is right. None of us can know anything except that he has been summoned home and intended to be here. And that he has intended to marry Lady Sarah since he was still in short pants."
"And has not come," Haverford insisted.
"Has not come yet," Bella insisted.
"Instead, he has hared off in precisely the wrong direction and has been seen socialising at the ducal court in Florence." Haverford sneered. "An ardent suitor indeed."
"You do not know why he has gone to Italy. He is a business owner now, with a shipyard in Livorno. He might have had something to manage there," Nick surmised.
"I have no idea why he has gone to Italy," Haverford acknowledged, then added, punctuating each word. "Because. He. Has. Sent. No. Message!"
Bella's brows turned down. "It is true we have received no message. That does not mean one never existed. Please, Haverford. One week. One week is all I ask."
"Three days, Your Grace." Haverford bowed, his voice as cold as Wellbridge's. "I am at the command of Empire. We leave in three days."
Bella's face hardened. "I see. I shall have to excuse myself, then, so I may summon the appropriate parties to my office to begin the effort to find David. Wellbridge, Your Graces, good afternoon." Bella swept out without even looking at the Haverfords again.
Nick stared at the door as it closed behind Bella, wondering if he should follow her, and a bit perturbed she had left him to manage this travesty without her.
Cherry drew herself to her feet. "Haverford, I wish to go home. We have said what we came for. Wellbridge, I will trust you to deal with the Soddenfelds, for Almyra's sake and Abersham's, as well as for the love you bear our daughter. I will say my goodbyes now, but I daresay Sally will wish to see you before she leaves. Although you must do what you think fit to protect your daughter, as we will to protect ours, I trust she will not be denied the house."
She hadn't taken the chance of making it a question. Without waiting for her husband, she followed Bella's path to the door, letting it swing closed behind her.
Haverford moved heavily to the abandoned Scrapbook, picking it up and tucking it under his arm, then hesitated, his eyes on his oldest friend.
"Nick? Nick. If the boy has a good reason for the delay, if he can be proven innocent of the worst... I don't want to keep them apart."
Nick's eyes were still on the door. Before, when all the women left the room and he and Haverford were left with their brandy, there was a sense of comfort in it. But now, it was as though the air left the room with Cherry.
'If he can be proven innocent.' Haverford had said. 'If'!
Nick turned on Haverford, his voice hissed and laden with venom. "I should hope you wouldn't. But I will not have you malign my heir once more with these elusive rumours that have no fact behind them, as though the two of us haven't been crucified with falsities many times before now." Outrage filled him that Haverford should blame the whole on a fifteen-year-old boy. "Perhaps you should simply be thankful your daughter has chosen an honourable man, who is industrious and can take care of her under his own power, and actually wants to. Especially when Lady Sarah's own mother thinks she is capable of leading Abersham into this infamy." He hesitated for a moment and then rushed on. "It is no wonder Lady Sarah is unmarriageable, and you should be thanking the gods my son is still willing to give her his name... I am starting to think I should advise him against it."
"Unmarriageable!" Haverford turned red. "She has had more proposals and from more eligible men than any in the kingdom, and has turned them all down because the rake you trained corrupted her fresh from the cradle. You are ready to discard my entire family to protect your Almyra, and you expect me to sacrifice my own darling child because your son is too weak-willed to deny a girl's innocent curiosity? How dare you!"
Nick's jaw was clenched so hard he could barely choke out the words. "First of all, he is a rake we trained, and second, you can hardly hold it against Abersham that he can't say no to Sally, when you raised her to scheme and manipulate to get anything she wants. She is unwomanly, Haverford. Yes, all the mathematics and running around with Abersham like she was wearing trousers? It was a sad day when she set her cap for my boy. He would do better to marry the d'Alvieri chit."
"Set her cap?" Haverford shouted. "The most eligible woman in all the noble families of England had no need to set her cap for a dog slavering at her feet since he could toddle. More's the pity she cast him more than the crumbs she has had for others. I'll tell you what it is, Wellbridge. You Northope men are shallow and selfish, but you have charm, I cannot deny it, and he ensorcelled her before she had the opportunity to find a better man." Haverford sighed. "She could hardly have found a worse one, it appears." And he waved the Scrapbook at Nick, as proof, before he flipped the oilcloth closed around it again.
Nick's hand tightened on his cane. He might fall on his face directly after, but he could take Haverford's head off with it before he even saw it coming. If frailty could be counted for one thing, it was the element of surprise.
"Get. Out." Nick hissed, instead of breaking his oldest friend's skull. "Get. Out. Now. Do not return. Do not ever return. When my son arrives, I will see him married to the nearest woman with a titled father, to save him the sorrow of marrying your lightskirt. Get out." He used the cane to lower himself into his chair before he fell, his breath coming short and his chest tightening. He would rather die here, now, than let Haverford see his weakness.
Haverford opened his mouth to roar back just as Cherry re-entered the room.
"Haverford," she commanded, her voice harsh. "You will say no more, and you will particularly say nothing at the top of your voice for the whole world to hear about before sunset. The Wellbridges are our friends, and we all love both children. Come. We are leaving."
She sank into a formal curtsey. "Your Grace. I am sorry to part on ill terms. When the pair of you ducal arses come down from your high horses, I trust you will remember your long friendship. Good day."
She grasped her husband's arm, and led him, unprotesting, from the room.
Nick sat, stunned, for a few long minutes, then finished his brandy and called for Blakeley. His wife would be at the docks by now. He needed to be involved in whatever she was planning, and he needed to lean on her. These were the moments, he had learned, when dukes and duchesses need each other most—the days that threaten to tear out your heart.