Page 71 of His Improper Lady

“Con.” Lilah supplied his name, a bit of steel slipping into her voice. “His name is Con.”

“Yes, well, I never could tell the two of them apart.”

“Lizard?” Desiree asked, puzzled. “I thought it was a parrot.”

“Humph,” Aunt Wilhemina retorted. “Don’t remind me about that squawking monster. I’ll never forget the uproar that bird caused back when one of the girls got married—not the redhead, must have been Olivia. As I remember, that was the wedding where that foreign man was stabbed and then some ruffians disrupted everything by taking Emmeline hostage. It was a most disquieting visit.”

Desiree pressed her lips together tightly and forced herself not to look at Tom, for she was certain she would break out laughing if she did. It was no wonder the Morelands were inured to scandal. Desiree was beginning to think that the Malones were too staid for the Morelands.

“Now.” Wilhemina directed her gaze at Tom and said, “I can’t imagine what you’re doing here. Emmeline has always been far too lax with her servants.”

Desiree opened her mouth to give a heated reply to Aunt Wilhemina’s comment, but Tom caught her eye and shook his head, and Desiree, after an internal struggle, clamped her lips shut.

“Tom isn’t a servant, Aunt Wilhemina. He’s Con’s business partner,” Megan said.

Wilhemina turned to Desiree. “I imagine you’re here today to find out about Alistair.”

Desiree answered as politely as her irritation could allow. “Yes, ma’am, if you don’t mind.”

“I never mind talking about Alistair. Dear boy.” Wilhemina dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “We were close, you see. Almost like brother and sister. Our families lived near each other, and we often visited. Alistair and I were much the same age.” She sighed ruefully. “But I don’t know anything about your birth, I’m afraid. Of course, he wouldn’t have talked to me about setting up a mistress.”

Desiree sagged in disappointment. She had told herself she would likely learn nothing from her father’s cousin, but she’d hoped for at least a scrap of information.

“I knew he was unhappy with Tabitha,” the older woman went on. “Anyone could have seen that marriage was a mistake. Tabitha was horse-mad, like all the Darringtons—rode to the hounds and all that. She was always outdoors doing something—archery, lawn tennis, croquet. The woman was tiring to be around. And so dull. No sense of humor at all. Whereas Alistair was such a homebody and so witty and intelligent. The two of them couldn’t have been less alike.”

Wilhemina brought her handkerchief to her eyes again. “But Tabitha was obviously head over heels about him. She chased him from her first Season. It was quite tiresome, really. One could scarcely have a good chat with Alistair at a party without her showing up, making sheep eyes at him. I thought he shouldn’t have proposed. I would have told him so if I’d known he was about to ask her. But Alistair was young and no doubt flattered by her adoration of him... I think perhaps he mistook that for love. And, of course, Grandmother and Aunt Agatha pushed him to offer for her.”

“Why did they want so much for him to marry her?” Desiree asked.

“They liked the match. It had always chafed Grandmother that Henry had married a nobody—although, really, a Moreland can scarcely marry up, now, can they? So Alistair proposed to Tabitha. I think he realized almost from the start that it had been the wrong thing to do. Then he fell in love with someone else. I remember him saying to me that he hadn’t known what love was before he met her.”

“Did he tell you her name?” Desiree asked.

“No. I gathered that she was unsuitable. I knew the things he said about eloping with her to Scotland were all pipe dreams. After all, a gentleman couldn’t break off an engagement. It would have been a terrible scandal, and not only would that affect the Moreland name, it’s always worse for the jilted bride. Aside from the scandal, it would have devastated Tabitha, and Alistair was always so tenderhearted. Grandmother and Aunt Agatha positively hectored him to ‘act honorably,’ and heaven knows it was hard to stand up to either one of them, let alone both.” She paused, then added in a confidential tone, “I think there was more—it was whispered that Alistair and Tabitha had been caught in a compromising situation...alone in a closed room...in one another’s arms.”

“That hardly sounds like a man in love with someone else,” Desiree said with disappointment. She was illegitimate, but at least she had believed she was born out of love.

“Oh, I wouldn’t blame Alistair for that.” Wilhemina shook her head. “I imagine it was more a case of Tabitha throwing herself at him and begging him not to leave her. I always found it a bit suspicious that someone happened to walk in at that exact moment. If word of that got out and he didn’t marry her, Tabitha would have been ruined. In any event, Alistair went ahead and married her. Poor boy. I knew he was unhappy, but of course an affair was not the sort of thing he would have talked about with me.”

“Did he tell you he was leaving the country?” Megan asked.

“No! And it wasn’t at all the sort of thing Alistair would have done. He wouldn’t have just abandoned his family without a word. If it hadn’t been for the note he left Tabitha, I wouldn’t have believed it. I was sure he would write me and explain everything. But I never heard from him.” She dabbed at her eyes again, her voice thick with tears. Looking up, she said bitterly, “I’m sure that friend of his encouraged him. That Paxton boy. It was just the sort of harebrained thing he would do.”

“Paxton!” Desiree barely kept herself from shooting up from her chair. She glanced at Tom, who was looking back at her with the same excitement. “You said my father had a friend named Paxton?”

“Why, yes.” Wilhemina looked startled at Desiree’s enthusiasm. “Lloyd Paxton. Though Alistair always called him something silly. Pax, I believe it was.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“HE WAS ALWAYS a wild thing, a terrible influence on Alistair,” Wilhemina went on. “Gambling and drinking and engaging in silly stunts. Anytime Alistair went astray, you could count on it being at the encouragement of Lloyd Paxton. But Alistair simply would not give him up. That was one thing Tabitha and I agreed upon—Alistair would have been better off without him. But if one said so, Alistair got very stubborn about it.”

“Do you know where Mr. Paxton lives, ma’am?” Tom asked. “Is he still in London?”

“Goodness! I have no idea. I never kept up with the man.” Wilhemina looked offended at the idea. “I suppose he’s still alive. At least, no one has told me he died. I haven’t heard much about him the last few years. He must not have stirred up any scandals. Perhaps he reformed.”

Desiree had a difficult time sitting still and politely chatting for the next few minutes, but eventually they had satisfied the demands of courtesy and were able to take their leave. Outside, they parted from the Moreland women, who walked back to the Moreland house while Tom flagged down a hack for him and Desiree.

Desiree could barely hold back her excitement until they were seated inside the vehicle. “This is what we needed. I know it. Mr. Paxton is the person most likely to know everything about my parents—not just whether Alistair was my father, but what they were like and what they said and did. He might have been privy to their plans!” Excitement swelled in her. “Perhaps he’s even corresponded with them. I know Aunt Wilhemina believed Alistair would write her, but I think it’s more likely he would have written his lifelong friend. Don’t you?”