I heard Charles chortle.
“But surely your wife understands? She won’t become Lady Harriet until she does her duty by you.”
Charles’s voice dropped to just above a whisper. I gingerly rose from my chair and stood next to the gap in the door. Scanning the room for Hari, I wondered if she had observed the two men with their heads bent in serious conversation. She was oblivious, I saw, her attention taken up by the butler who was asking for direction on some matter.
“Uncle, I’ve just had a thought,” Charles said. “We could go about this another way. If Harriet doesn’t give me a son, what if I were to adopt those boys as my own? I’ve seen this sort of thing done in other aristocratic families. Would you be satisfied? An heir and two spares.”
The last comment was like a splash of cold water in my face. So this was why Charles was having tea at Mrs. Sledge’s. Oh, my poor sister. I felt my heart ache for her. She had enough of her own problems without adding mine into the mix.
“I could see that the boys’ mother would likely agree, but you might find yourself married to a scorned woman,” Lord Ainsley said. “Harriet could make you very unhappy.”
“Harriet would see the light. She’s as ambitious as I am.”
Lord Ainsley studied Charles for a moment. “If something should ever happen to you, dear boy, I would rest easy knowing the line of succession for my legacy had been established, but the title is another matter; the successor must be blood, unless we could successfully petition the Committee of Privileges.”
“I know that, Uncle, but one step at a time. First the adoption and then the petition—and I do have connections on the committee, by the way.” Charles gently touched his glass to his uncle’s. “To our heirs.”
“To our heirs,” Lord Ainsley replied.
My heart was thumping in my chest as I ran up the back stairs to my room. I had no idea what committee they were speaking of, but Charles had clearly been working on a plan to make these boys his heirs for some time. How much did Hari know? I thought over her comments that day in the carriage. She must suspect. No wonder she looked unwell. If Hari was not the mother of Charles’s heirs, she would become a grass widow with a tainted title. No doubt Charles would want to launch these boys into society and take them everywhere he could, and the children would want their mother by their side. They would form a family with Hari and me on the outside. I couldn’t let that happen.
Chapter Ten
“No!” I awoke to the sound of my own voice and sat upright in my bed. I blinked hard several times, and the image of George’s face evaporated in the darkness of my bedroom. It was just another dream. Belle stirred next to me, then settled back down.
I lit a candle to check the timepiece that hung from a clasp on my chest. Midnight. I must have fallen asleep waiting for Harriet to return to her room—I was still fully clothed. The memory of Charles’s words to Lord Ainsley came rushing back along with a new, more intense anxiety about the future, both mine and Hari’s.
I needed to have a long heart-to-heart with my sister as soon as possible. Surely she would become pregnant before long, especially with the help of her new doctor, but in the meantime, we had to find a way to buy more time. If I could make a decent match with someone else with political influence, perhaps that would please Charles. In a benevolent mood, he would be more patient, and I suspected that a happy, relaxed couple would be more likely to conceive a child. Then he would have everything he wanted—a title and a place in cabinet. And Harriet’s position would remain unchallenged.
My mind swimming, I stood up and wandered to the window. A bold full moon hung low on the horizon, defying the night’s darkness by casting light where none would normally be. The estate’s beautifully manicured lawns, which ran from the front gate to the house, stretched out in gentle, light-frosted waves before me. This really was the most splendid home in the county. Was Charles planning for the boys to live here? Hari had so much to lose if Charles decided he had no more need of her and sent her to live in one of the cottages.
There was a movement in the distance. The moonlight reflected off a polished surface that appeared to bob and weave with slow but steady progress. It must be a carriage. But at this hour?
As the vehicle rounded the semicircle driveway it came to a stop, not at the main door to the house but off to the right, and a rather stout figure lowered himself stiffly to the ground. I strained to make out who this nocturnal caller was but shadows obscured his face. He walked towards the seldom-used side entry, just as a light came on in Charles’s study.
“No rest for the wicked,” I murmured under my breath.
What business did Charles have at this hour? Was it something to do with Harriet? Or was Charles planning something else? I padded downstairs to see what I could find out.
I stopped outside the closed double doors leading to Charles’s study, careful not to let my feet cast a shadow, and listened intently, but the solid oak doors had been built with someone like me in mind. I couldn’t hear a thing. After a few minutes I gave up. In frustration, I shoved my hands in my pockets and found the note that Cook had sent me earlier. I stared at it for a
