Free A Scandalous Secret by Beth Andrews Page B

Dominick?’
    The question caught him off guard. He hardly knew what to believe. At first glance, it seemed too fantastic to be true - that he could be the earl’s father. And yet, now that the idea had been thrust upon him, it was impossible to dismiss. Aside from the boy’s hair, which might be mere coincidence, there was little evidence. Only, there was that instant bond he had felt, which was undeniable. Was it just because he had once loved the mother, that he felt so drawn to the son? Or was there another reason? His heart whispered that it was so. But it might be for no better reason than that he wanted it to be so. How could he be certain?
    ‘I do not know,’ he muttered eventually, not meeting his aunt’s glance.
    ‘Then I think you had better lose no time in finding out.’ Aunt Winifred said, rising to look down on him with grim determination.
    ‘What do you mean?’ He was alarmed by her attitude. She could be a formidable woman when she chose to be. She now had about her the distinct air of a bull eyeing the entrance to a china shop.
    ‘I believe,’ she told him, ‘that it is high time I paid a visit to your fine friends at Merrywood.’
     

Chapter 5
     
    The next morning was another wet one, with as fine a shower as ever England had produced. Nicky, still smarting from his punishment of the previous day, was even more disappointed to realize that it was unlikely that Mr Markham would call about their plans to go fishing - even if Mama approved, which was very doubtful. By mid-afternoon, however, the weather had cleared miraculously.
    The grown-ups were seated in the drawing-room. Nicky was too young to be so languid. He was on the floor entertaining Achilles, his Uncle Alastair’s pampered hound, by tugging gently at the dog’s long, droopy ears. At the sound of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels approaching the house, however, he abandoned Achilles and flew to the window.
    ‘It is Mr Markham!’ he exclaimed, with patent delight. Achilles sniffed and buried his head between his paws.
    ‘Indeed it is Mr Markham.’ Dorinda corroborated his statement as she came up behind him and peered over his head.
    ‘Do come away from the window,’ Elizabeth begged them both, ‘before he sees you.’
    ‘There is an old lady with him,’ Nicky announced, ignoring this request.
    ‘It must be his aunt,’ Dorinda said, her nose pressed against the pane. ‘It is his aunt.’ She spun away from the window like a whirling dervish, dragging Nicky along with her and depositing him unceremoniously upon a chair, while she seated herself beside her sister. ‘It is quite incredible,’ she concluded breathlessly.
    ‘I thought,’ said Oswald, polishing his quizzing-glass, ‘that she was some sort of eccentric who visited no one.’
    ‘Precisely,’ Dorinda concurred, nodding. ‘I cannot conceive what it might mean. But what fun! Do you not agree, Lizzy?’
    ‘I am positively ecstatic,’ Elizabeth replied, with a pronounced lack of enthusiasm. Dominick had obviously informed the old lady about Nicky, and she had come here to - to what? What did she hope to accomplish?
    Miss Winifred Trottson and Mr Dominick Markham were announced, and Elizabeth found herself confronting two persons who were eyeing her with something less than good will. From feeling sick and frightened about the encounter, she suddenly became most indignant. Her courage rose to this most awkward of occasions. How dare they presume to judge her?
    Amid the introductions, Nicky’s voice was heard as he hopped from his chair to greet his new friend.
    ‘Is it too late for fishing, sir?’
    All eyes turned to the little boy, and Elizabeth was nearly overset once again. Seeing the two together for the first time, the resemblance between them was - to her eyes, at least - quite uncanny. There was a difference, however. The child’s face was as innocent and eager as it could be; the man’s was set and angry, although it seemed to soften magically