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“Lord Saunton should arrange a special license while the two of you negotiate the contracts,” Sophia advised. Richard shot a look at her. She shrugged at him with an innocent look on her face. “There is no choice but to see this through as soon as possible. Now that his lordship has engaged in such scandalous behavior!”

Lord Moreland humphed.

“You have no choice, husband. It is what Sophia wants,” a pleased Lady Moreland piped in. It appeared she supported the union wholeheartedly, which was fortunate because Lord Moreland was seriously considering ejecting Richard from his home, if his expression was anything to go by.

“Niece, is this what you want? There is no need to worry about a scandal, and I will not require you to marry this reprobate just to avoid gossip.”

“I am certain, Uncle Hugh. I wish to marry Lord Saunton,” Sophia reassured her uncle before muttering something under her breath. It sounded like she said, ‘forthwith,’ which gave Richard pause. He wondered why she was so eager to tie the knot after trying her best to get rid of him on earlier occasions.

“Then Saunton and I best go to my study to discuss terms.”

Richard’s heart hammered in fearful excitement. He had not expected matters to proceed so rapidly, but it appeared he would be married to the lovely Sophia before the week was out. Doing his best to look repentant, he followed Lord Moreland from the room, but not before winking at Sophia to express his agreement with her manipulation of events and enjoying the answering smile that spread across her face in acknowledgment.

By the time Richard returned home to meet with his man of business, he was trembling with a mix of excitement and anticipation. He was about to marry a vibrant, intelligent young woman whose sharp wit and keen sense of right and wrong would challenge and inspire him. The way her presence quickened his pulse and brightened his days was an unexpected delight, dispelling any lingering uncertainty about the path he was choosing. For the first time in years, the prospect of a shared future filled him with hope and joy.

He poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter. “I have been most fortunate thus far, Johnson.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Here is to good fortune holding out.” He turned around.

Trepidation assailed him when he saw the nervous expression in Johnson’s darting eyes.

“What is it?” he groaned. “Do not tell me good fortune has not prevailed?”

“Her name was Kitty. Kitty Smith,” Johnson croaked.

“Was?”

“My lord,” Johnson began, and then paused as he wrung his hands. “Ahem. Do you recall ‘blonde housemaid, five foot, about three and twenty years of age, worked at Duke of Rosbury’s castle in Kent in 1815’?”

Richard blanched and gave a curt nod.

“Kitty Smith died in childbirth in March 1816. She refused to name the father. Her son, Ethan, lives with Kitty’s aunt and her family in Derby. He—ahem—has dark brown hair and green eyes …” Johnson’s ramble ended. “My lord,” he remembered to interject.

Johnson shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his demeanor most unhappy.

“The boy is four years old?” Richard whispered. Johnson gave a quick nod.

“Any chance he is not mine?”

Johnson looked away and coughed discreetly. “The house staff in Kent knew of no liaisons, despite being offered a reward for information. They did indicate that Kitty handed in her resignation about two months after the summer house party, which comprised mostly gentlemen from London. From what they said, Kitty was enamored with the peerage and they suspected she had fallen for the glib lines of one of those guests. They considered she was a good girl, properly raised.”

Richard could hear his heart thudding loudly in the ensuing silence.

“And what of the aunt’s circumstances?” Richard finally asked.

“She is married to a tenant farmer and has six children of her own besides Ethan. They appear to be a relatively successful and upstanding household. The aunt and her husband would be willing to hand him over to the father’s care if promises were made to maintain their family connection. She wants to know about family visits before she will acknowledge parentage.”

Richard had not thought that a man could experience two earth-shattering life revelations within the span of less than a week. He had been wrong.

“Green eyes are not common,” he choked out.

“No, my lord.”

Looking at his reflection in the glass cradled in his hand, Richard recognized, more than a little nonplussed, that he, in fact, knew of no other men in his acquaintance with green eyes other than his own brother and the late earl.

Drawing a deep breath, silently he prayed that Sophia would not call off the wedding at this news. He would not blame her if she did. She certainly deserved better than him. However, his duty to the boy was clear. He was ashamed that strangers brought up his son, while he did not even know of his existence. There was only one honorable move to make, and that was to claim his child and take responsibility for his upbringing and future.

“Return to the aunt and offer them one of my smaller unentailed properties in gratitude for all they have done to take care of my … my … son,” he croaked. He fought to compose himself before he continued.

“The estate is to be held while the steward apprentices them in the managing of the estate. We will arrange visits over the summer so that the boy may join them. He is to come stay with me, and I would like to interview prospective nursemaids to look after him. I will inform Radcliffe to prepare the nursery, and perhaps we have someone suitable on our staff to promote to that position. My boy must receive the best—a loving hand to take care of him as we become acquainted.” It gratified him to hear the decisive ring in his voice as he spoke. He sounded more confident than he felt.