There was no point in asking if Arabella was certain. Marissa could see she was. Arabella had her own network of individuals for information, something that came in handy during instances such as this.
Marissa’s chest felt as if she’d been punched or fallen from her horse. “He wouldn’t.” She shook her head.
“And yet, he has.”
“It makes no sense, Arabella. I think Haddon admires Pendleton’s work in Parliament, the reforms he seeks, but not enough to beggar himself. They are friends of a sort,” Marissa said. Haddon was well off but paying Pendleton’s debt would cripple him financially. “I can’t imagine he’d risk so much. Not with his daughters to consider.”
“Two large quarries in the Peak District were recently mortgaged to raise capital. I saw the report on Rowan’s desk.” She waved a hand. “He’s always looking at properties where the owner has done something stupid and put said properties at risk.” She shot Marissa an apologetic look. “Rowan finds stone and such to be a solid industry and one worth investing in.”
“Yes. The stone for fine houses, roads, and walls must come from somewhere,” she said, remembering the words Haddon had spoken to her at Lord Duckworth’s. “Haddon’s quarries.”
Arabella nodded. “Is there any chance Pendleton suspected you of buying his markers?”
“Lydia,” Marissa said quietly, thinking of the conversation she’d had with the woman at the Chenwith Society function. “I may have expressed my dismay that Catherine wouldn’t be marrying Kendicott. I fear that is why Pendleton hurried to secure Miss Higgins. As discreet as you were in having the markers purchased, she must have surmised it was me, and frankly, I didn’t care. I assumed there wasn’t anyone else Pendleton could go to for such a sum.”
“You were mistaken. As to why Haddon did such a thing, I’m not certain. But his doing so speaks of a much closer relationship than he led you to believe. He’s never questioned you about Pendleton? Could he know or be helping him?”
“No, I—he was only here last night.” Marissa went over their evening together, bit by bit. They’d made love. Laughed. Talked about their children. But Marissa had sensed a sadness in Haddon, putting it down to him missing his three younger daughters. He'd told her he loved her.
“He said nothing.” A trickle of unease slid down Marissa’s spine. Had Lydia or Pendleton voiced their suspicions to Haddon, and he related to them he’d seen Marissa with Nighter? “Perhaps Lydia begged Haddon’s help, but if that were true, why wouldn’t he confront me? Especially given that if Pendleton doesn’t marry Miss Higgins, Haddon would be—”
“Ruined,” Arabella finished. “Maybe we are wrong, and he doesn’t know.”
The more she considered it, Marissa was certain Haddon did know. “Lydia would never miss an opportunity to disparage me to Haddon, especially since our attachment to each other was made quite public.”
Marissa thought she might well be ill. Oh, Trent. You fool. What have you done?
“Will you end this now, Aunt Maisy? I confess I have never been able to reconcile myself to the damage a man like Nighter will do to Miss Higgins’s reputation. I’ve gotten to know the girl quite well from her visits with Lady Higgins. She doesn’t speak of Pendleton with affection if she even mentions him at all. Instead, she sips her tea with a starry look in her eyes. Nighter’s influence, no doubt. Can you not—”
“No. Do not dare ask me such a thing.” Haddon’s betrayal was throbbing like a spoiled bit of pudding in her stomach.
“Aunt Maisy,” Arabella started calmly. “I know Pendleton kept his parent’s secrets and knowingly stole from Brendan, but putting him in the poorhouse is more than enough punishment for him, don’t you think? You’ve taken back the mine, Aunt. Or at least you will. They will never profit from Reggie’s death again. Even with the dowry Miss Higgins brings, the family will remain in genteel poverty. Lydia was forced to sell all of her precious Blue John. Catherine will not marry the wealthy son of a pig farmer. You’ve won, Aunt.”
Marissa clutched the glass of whisky harder, frustrated her careful planning had been upended. And by Haddon. She forced herself to think of poor Reggie, left alone to bleed to death in a cave. Shot by his closest friend. All so Lydia could be wealthy. Stealing from Brendan all these years while treating her youngest child with contempt.
“Lydia and her pompous prig of a son need to pay for what they’ve done. I won’t be happy until I see Pendleton so tainted by poverty, he will never be thought a brilliant star of Parliament. I want Lydia on the street, begging for money to buy her precious brandy.” Marissa took a deep gulp of air ignoring the squeeze of pain. “It is my duty to Reggie.”
Trent, how could you?
Arabella nodded slowly and stood. “And what, Aunt Maisy, is your duty to Haddon?”
Marissa turned away, not willing to meet Arabella’s eyes.
“You love him. Any fool can see it.”
She didn’t bother to deny it. Never had she imagined this would be the way her affair with Haddon would end. And it would, because surely after Miss Higgins was ruined with Haddon not far behind, he wouldn’t even be able to look at Marissa again.
He told me he loved me.
Perhaps he did. Or maybe those beautiful words were only an attempt to get her to stop the destruction of all things Pendleton. Guilt her into ceasing the revenge she was inflicting. Could he possibly be in league with Lydia?
Another dull, painful ache went through her. The very idea sickened her.
“I’ll take my leave as I sense you need to be alone for a time.” Arabella paused before the door. “How ironic, Aunt Maisy, that you now find yourself in the same situation both Nick and I have faced. Revenge or the desire of your heart.” She said nothing for a moment though Marissa sensed her hovering in the doorway.
“I don’t envy
