Geoffrey frowned. He’d never heard anything of the sort. “Cheating?”
Lord Goddard’s gaze cleared and snapped back to Geoffrey. “Well, not exactly cheating. Worse, in my opinion. Your uncle had a habit of picking on men who were well into their cups.”
That sounded nothing like the Uncle Joss he knew. The man he knew lived a benign existence. Nice enough, but without ambition or real backbone, easily led by forces like the countess. And yet, as he thought about it, Geoffrey wondered if that wasn’t the kind of personality that could easily be lured into addictions as well. Still…“While that’s not exactly honorable, men shouldn’t play if their faculties are impaired.”
Lord Goddard’s wrinkled face drooped into a scowl. “Oh, he didn’t take their money on the table. He waited until they were so foregone they wouldn’t remember their own mothers, then forged notes claiming winnings due. He was deuced good at it, too. Men couldn’t tell his forgeries from their own handwriting to save their lives. He’d wait a few days to call in the notes and the poor sots would hand over the blunt, figuring they’d just played too long into their cups. No telling how many men he fleeced before he was finally caught.”
Hackles rose on Geoffrey’s neck. Forged notes? He leaned toward Goddard. “How can that be? Why wouldn’t he have been run out of town if that were true?”
Goddard didn’t draw back an inch. “You don’t remember your grandfather, o’ course, but the man carried a lot of weight here and in Town. He made recompense to every man known to have been taken by your uncle, and probably some who weren’t. Then he used his influence to quash any rumors. Your uncle disappeared for a time, and ’tweren’t long before other scandals churned the gossip mill a new direction. He only returned after your father had become the earl.” The old man finished the amber liquid in his snifter with a smacking sound that could be made only by missing teeth. “But some of us haven’t forgotten.”
Geoffrey shot to his feet, impossible notions ricocheting through him. What if Liliana had been right and the final note to her father had been forged?
More disturbing was that if his uncle had known enough to forge a letter to Charles Claremont, then Joss had been involved from the beginning. Uncle Joss had been his father’s confidant, which was why Geoffrey had trusted him with the sensitive information about the Poor Employment Act, which Joss had run and told the countess.
What if his father had confided his dealings with Charles Claremont to Joss? If Joss had been in trouble at the tables, would he have tried to appropriate either the treasure or the money for himself?
He was the only man left alive. Could he have killed both Liliana’s father and Geoffrey’s own for the corselet?
Geoffrey clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the bile rising in his throat.
“Is everything all right, Stratford?” Lord Goddard’s face turned up, his tortoiselike eyes blinking.
Geoffrey swallowed. “Of course,” he answered. “I just realized it’s time I found my bed.”
And my duplicitous uncle.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“C
ould you please personally make certain the mare is returned to the Earl of Stratford’s stables?” Liliana pressed a coin into the young groom’s hand. “But not until late this afternoon. Be sure to tell Mr. Richards you were promised another coin when the horse arrives safely.” She’d lowered her voice and pulled her hat down to obscure her face. She was fairly certain no one at the coaching inn was wise to the fact that she was female.
The boy nodded his agreement and dashed off to fetch the horse she’d rented to carry her to the next stopping point.
Liliana hadn’t intended to take Amira, but when she’d arrived at the stables, Richards had been mucking out the stalls and assumed Liliana was going out for her customary morning ride. He’d saddled Amira for her and she’d reluctantly ridden off on the prize mare. To refuse would have raised too many questions. She’d also been forced to stash her bag with food and a change of clothes behind the stable.
Liliana stroked Amira’s long nose. “Farewell, Princess. I’m certain the boy will take good care of you.” Promising him double pay should ensure Amira was well treated, even though it was coin Liliana could scarcely spare.
The boy returned, leading a tired-looking bonesetter in his wake. Liliana accepted the horse and watched as Amira was led across the yard. She turned away, tears clogging her throat. Not over saying good-bye to the horse, but because Amira was the last tie she had to Geoffrey.
Her hand dove into her pocket. Not the last tie, precisely. Amongst precious few coins and her decorative tinderbox, Liliana closed her fingers around an old metal key. Though she’d left his betrothal ring behind, she hadn’t been able to part with the key to the folly. That was how she’d choose to remember Geoffrey, as a creative and thoughtful lover who’d once wanted her enough to offer her his most special place.
But there would be no more tenderness. No more races through the morning dew or exhilarating conversations with a man who truly listened to her ideas and didn’t dismiss them as less simply because they came from a woman. No more stolen kisses or moments of bliss in Geoffrey’s arms.
Liliana led the nag to the mounting block, determined not to wallow or second-guess. There was no guarantee there’d ever be any of those things again if she’d stayed, either. When he’d insisted they still marry, she’d been shocked, but a part of her had rejoiced. She’d agreed, if only because she so desperately loved him. She’d thought maybe, given time, they’d be able to put the past behind them and start anew.
But Geoffrey had turned cold, angry, and she didn’t blame him. As he saw it, her actions had been a deliberate breach of trust…one he had no intention of forgiving. When she looked into his eyes, she saw no love, only distrust. And that was her fault.
Her heart tripped when she considered how he’d react when he realized she’d gone. Would his feelings of betrayal deepen and his anger toward her grow even more entrenched?
Liliana wiped a tear from her cheek, ducking her face. She had to quit sniffling like a ninny lest she give her disguise away.
It hardly mattered how he’d react. She couldn’t live like this. And neither should he. In the long run, no matter how much it tore her soul, leaving was for the best. She wouldn’t allow him to throw away his chance to find someone he could trust, and therefore love, for a sham marriage to assuage his misplaced sense of honor. When she was certain she was not carrying his child, she would send him a note to ease his mind. And if she was? Well, she’d deal with that wh—
“Miss Claremont?”
Liliana whirled at the sound of Geoffrey’s voice, missing her step and nearly stumbling as her foot slipped off of the block in her surprise.
The bright sun filtering around him made her squint, and Liliana saw the figure before her only as a silhouette against the light. Her chest constricted for the briefest of moments. Hope, love and joy sprang up inside of her before her mind could quash it. The illusion faded as the man broke through the blinding light and drew nearer.