“Will you have a drink with me?” she asked.
He nodded, and she poured it for him and handed it over. They sipped in silence, and they were so compatible they might have been an old married couple. She could have lazed there with him forever and died a happy woman.
After a bit, he sighed and murmured, “What an awful day.”
“You look absolutely devastated. Dare I inquire about your chat with Millicent? I’m sorry she bumped into me. If I’d had any idea she would barge in, I’d have crawled into the wardrobe and hid until she departed.”
He smirked. “She’s worried we might be having an affair.”
“Did you confirm the worst? Or did you deny it?”
She tried to appear as if she was teasing, but if he’d claimed they weren’t involved, she’d be very hurt. She wasn’t an innocent maiden who had a reputation to preserve, and she didn’t care about Millicent Pendleton. But she cared about Charles and his opinion. If he couldn’t confess his mischief with Fish, what would that indicate about how he viewed their amour?
“I neither confirmed nor denied it,” he said, “so she was left wondering.”
“Considering I was in your bedroom, I doubt she’s wondering very hard.”
“I don’t like to upset her.”
“You don’t like to upset anyone.”
“I won’t stir discord for any reason.”
“That’s because you stirred plenty of it when you were young.”
“Yes, and I didn’t like how it thrust my life into the public eye.”
“You could have admitted we were dallying,” she said. “I wouldn’t have minded. I’m barely acquainted with your sister-in-law, and after the party ends, I’ll never see her again. If she believes I’m a slattern, it wouldn’t bother me.”
She shifted in the chair so she could watch him and judge how he assessed the remark. She’d given him several openings where he could have insisted she was staying on after the party, but he didn’t latch onto any of her overtures.
Instead, he frowned and said, “Millicent told me the most disturbing story, and I have to ask you about it.”
“I should be able to drum up an answer for you.”
“How long have you known Libby?”
“Eight years maybe? Or nine? Her Uncle Harry hired me to dress her after she turned sixteen. Why?”
“A housemaid was eavesdropping on her and Mr. Falcon. She tattled to Millicent.”
“About what? From your expression, it must have been terrible, but I can’t imagine Libby speaking offensively about you. She likes you very much.”
“They were talking about Little Henrietta. Evidently, Libby is preparing to announce that she’s my lost daughter.”
“Oh.”
Fish was very self-centered, and in all of her musings about Millicent and Charles, she’d conveniently neglected to ponder Libby and her wild tale about her paternity. It had been too fantastical, and Fish had resolved to focus on it later, once they were in London and she could read the letters.
Charles studied her strangely, then asked, “Had Libby mentioned it to you?”
“Yes, she mentioned it.”
“How long ago?”
“Just this afternoon. I was with her when you sent a maid to fetch her downstairs. She informed me right before she went to meet with you.”
“Prior to that, you had no idea?” He looked extremely skeptical.
“No.”
“According to the maid who overheard them, it’s a scheme she and Mr. Falcon cooked up to extort money from me. They’re hoping I’ll accept that she’s Henrietta or perhaps that I’ll tender a bribe so they’ll go away.” He sipped his drink, scrutinizing her over the rim of his glass. “You’re intimately acquainted with both of them. Which scenario would you deem to be more likely?”
Fish huffed with aggravation. “Libby wouldn’t trick you like that. She doesn’t have a dishonest bone in her body.”
“What about Mr. Falcon? Would he trick me?”
Fish wasn’t keen to wade into those murky waters. Simon possessed all of Harry’s dubious traits and then some. He might engage in any wicked plot.
“After Harry died,” she said, “Libby found a box of letters he’d stashed away. That’s all I can tell you about it. I haven’t seen them.”
“If the housemaid hadn’t accidently stumbled on their discussion, I wouldn’t have been apprised in advance. When Libby came forward, I’d have been blindsided.”
“You weren’t though.”
She didn’t like how he was evaluating her, as if he was checking for details that might catch her in a lie. He’d already judged Libby and Simon to be guilty, and suddenly, she felt as if she was skating on very thin ice.
“Would you ever have told me about this?” he asked. “Or are you so loyal to Libby that you’d have kept it a secret? Would you have remained silent and let her shout her falsehoods to the world?”
“I wasn’t keeping anything from you! I’ve known about this a few minutes longer than you have. I thought it was very far-fetched, and I asked if I could read the letters once we return to London. She agreed that I could, and I had decided I would proceed from there—depending on what they say.”
“If she spreads her nonsense, have you the slightest clue of the inferno that will ignite?”
“I can imagine how explosive it would be.”
“I would hate it, and I don’t mean to insult you, Fish—”
“Then don’t.”
“—but I need you to look me in the eye and swear you weren’t part of this. When you showed up at Roland, I was so excited, but now, I’m wondering if it wasn’t terribly convenient for you to have arrived with Libby.”
She bristled. “What are you implying? I suggest you be very, very clear.”
“Was this a scheme they fomented prior to traveling here? Were they aware that you and I are old friends? Did they invite you along to help them ingratiate themselves?”
Her jaw dropped. “Of all the despicable, rude, vile—”
He held up his hands, warding off her fury. “I’m simply curious about what’s happening. Somehow, Libby has figured out the exact way to entice me into believing
