Page 58 of A Momentary Marriage

“Yes, you would come to see Graeme sometimes when Mama and I were visiting Mirabelle. I thoroughly disliked you.”

“Was I unkind to you? I do beg your pardon. I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t; I was merely that nuisance of a girl. When you were there, the two of you went off and did ‘boy’ things and I was not allowed to join you.”

“Ah. So I stole Graeme away from you.”

“Yes, you did, but I forgive you.” She paused. “When did you—how did you—”

“Find out I was a bastard?”

“You’re not.”

“Not legally. Sir Laurence acknowledged me. He may have wished otherwise once Claude came along, but he would never have shamed Tessa. It was when I was older, maybe thirteen or so; I overheard one of the servants say something about it, just an offhand remark, making a joke. But I realized what he meant.”

“I’m sorry.” Laura took his hand in hers, as she had so many times through his illness. “It must have hurt terribly.”

He shrugged. “It explained a lot of things. Why Sir Laurence often looked at me the way he did. Things he’d said that hadn’t made sense to me at the time. How happy he was when Claude was born. I must have been a constant reminder of his wife’s infidelity.”

Though his voice was even, as it nearly always was, Laura sensed the pain that threaded through it. She squeezed his hand. “Yet you were the one he left in charge.”

“Since he acknowledged me, I had to be the heir; I was eldest.”

“Only the title and this estate. You told me that was all that would go to Claude. Yet Sir Laurence gave you everything, did he not? Except for that fund for the others, which he put into your care.”

“I am the only one he could trust to handle the money wisely and not give in to their wishes.”

“I would think having earned the trust of someone like Sir Laurence would mean a good deal,” Laura said.

James glanced at her sharply, but he said only, “You can see why Claude resents me—getting all the things he thinks should be his.”

“If it’s unfair, it’s the law that makes it so—and Sir Laurence. It’s not your fault.”

“No. But he has to get rid of me to have what he thinks he’s owed.”

“True—but is he the sort of person who would kill his brother in order to get it?”

“Who else could it be? If the apothecary or a servant did it, it would have to be because someone paid them; I cannot imagine someone taking that kind of risk just because they didn’t like me. And while you can make something of a case for the trust beneficiaries, it is Claude who has the strongest motive.” He paused. “There’s another factor to consider. I got sick in London. Someone must have put a pan of the stuff under my bed there, as they did here.”

“Which would eliminate the servants—in both places. And anyone else who was at Grace Hill the whole time. Who was at the house in London at the time you grew ill?”

“I’m not sure. I was here when Graeme’s baby was born, and I returned to London a week or so later. Within days, I was sick. It must have been placed there while I was at Grace Hill or as soon as I returned. I don’t really remember who was in London then. Tessa, of course.” He paused, thinking. “Walter hasn’t been in the house in town since last year when he got sent down.”

“What about the others?”

“Patricia and Archie doubtless were in London during the Season, but they would have stayed at Lord Salstone’s home.”

“They would have called on your mother, though.”

“True. I can’t remember when Claude was last in London. My memory is still cloudy, I’m afraid.” He frowned.

“What about that man who’s your partner? Doesn’t he inherit something?”

“Caulfield?” His brows lifted. “Yes, the factory we own jointly will revert to him on my death. It was his family’s originally.”

“Then he profits by your death. Surely he calls on you in London.”

“Yes,” he agreed slowly, frowning. “He does. I have even sometimes wondered if he has a tendre for Mother.”