“Have you? Until recently, I had never heard of you. I find it intriguing that you were aware of me all this time, yet I had no idea of your existence.”
“Until my father died, I did not know that the Esteban of whom I had heard so much was related to me. You see, I did not know Don Francisco was my true father until Tynedale died. Tynedale. It seems so cold to refer to him that way, when I always thought of him as my father. You do know, do you not, why it was that Don Francisco was my father? It was not an impetuous affair, as you seem to believe. My father asked him to produce an heir. He had been badly injured in a riding accident after my sister Helena was born, and without an heir, his title would pass to another. He could not bear the thought of it. Don Francisco was always such a wonderful friend, and it was to him that he turned for this most special of requests.”
The taste of the dry sherry on his tongue was heavy, and Steve did not refuse the offer of another glass to wash it away, to drown the distaste he felt. If it had been any other man, he would have left by now. But for some reason, he could not bring himself to reject Avery’s explanation. Had he been waiting for this, wondering, without admitting it even to himself?
“My mother,” Avery continued in the same soft monotone, “was a beautiful woman. She still is. Don Francisco, being the gallant gentleman that he is, agreed to my father’s request. Once successful, he left Cuba. It would have been too awkward to remain, to visit often, you see. So, I’m Lord Tynedale now, heir to title and lands as my father wished, but grateful to Don Francisco for the gift of life, and for nothing more.”
“Do you think I’m concerned with my inheritance? My grandfather has disowned me so many times that it’s never been something that worried me. It doesn’t now, either.”
“No, it would not. You are a millionaire several times over, I’ve heard, from careful investments. It is partially because of that ability that I wanted to meet you, to bring this out into the open between us. I know you will care for your wife as she should be cared for, and I want you to know that it was always you she wanted—”
Steve set his empty glass on the table between them and rose to his feet. “How long do you intend to be in London?”
Tynedale understood. He stood up, smiling slightly. “The prince desires to travel to Russia, and has asked me to accompany him. He made the acquaintance of the tsar on his last tour of France, and has accepted his invitation to the summer palace. It is beautiful, I understand, named for Catherine the Great, and very opulent. I expect to be most intrigued. It should take my mind off the recent death of my wife.”
The reference was to his Turkish wife, the woman who had supplanted Ginny, and no doubt been responsible for the attempt upon her life as well. Living in a harem had its drawbacks, it seemed.
“Why are you telling me all this, Tynedale? You didn’t arrange for me to come here just to find out how I feel about my wife.”
“Perhaps not.” A faint smile pressed at the corners of his mouth as Tynedale watched him. “I felt we should meet privately before we meet publicly. Tomorrow evening you are to attend a soiree given by the Prince of Wales. So will I. It is inevitable that we meet, so I leave it up to you to prepare Ginny for my presence there.”
Ginny was surprised and a little shaken when Steve told her that Richard Avery would be attending the same soiree.
“He’s here? Oh, I knew he was supposed to be in London, but I wasn’t sure…didn’t know if he would even think of me or would prefer not to see me again.”
“I think he’d like it too much.”
Sprawled in a chair, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm, Steve watched her through lazily narrowed eyes, a faint smile on his mouth. Ginny knew that look. He was waiting for her to react.
She arched a brow as she reached for the cup of hot, sweet tea she favored. Delicate china rattled with a light, tinkling sound, tiny roses vivid against the creamy white background. It was a habit lately to drink tea in the afternoon, a practice that was growing in popularity in London. She sipped the hot brew slowly, taking her time before she responded to Steve’s news of Richard.
“It will be delightful to see him again. He was very good to me, and I cared a great deal for him.”
It was true. She had cared for Richard. But he’d never supplanted Steve in her heart, and he’d been intelligent enough to know that.
She looked up in time to catch the skepticism in Steve’s gaze, and was startled. It was gone so quickly, she wondered if she had imagined it, for he gave another careless shrug, his smile revealing nothing.
“You can renew your acquaintance tomorrow night at this damn soiree we’re committed to attending. I’ll be glad to leave London. It’s become nothing but a round of social events.”
“Yes, my only regret is having to leave the children here for a while. Oh, Steve, what if they feel abandoned?”
“Your aunt has been with them so long, they won’t feel abandoned. And it’s only for a few months, until I’m sure the danger in Mexico is over. We can live at Hacienda de la Nostalgia, if you like, or investigate
