Chapter Nineteen

D inner was quiet. Even the viscount's conversation was muted, and Owen had little to say other than that he was planning to visit his publisher the next day. Ellis was about to ask him if he had brought his latest sketches with him when Greenwood interrupted them. With his white pantaloons and black tailcoat, the butler could have passed muster at a palace ball.

"There is a Mr. Blake to see you, my lord," he announced.

"Thank you, Greenwood." The viscount tossed down his napkin. "Show him into the drawing room. We will be with him shortly."

Once the door had closed again, he said, "I didn't expect him until tomorrow." He turned to Ellis. "Are you all right to speak with him, my dear? The sooner we deal with the matter of Sir Theo Abergele, the sooner you can safely return home to Breamore."

Ellis couldn't help but glance at Owen, but he was staring down at his plate. "I am very much looking forward to speaking to Mr. Blake," she replied. "All I want is for everything to go back to the way it was before."

She meant Hawthorne Lodge, but she realized too late it sounded as if she was longing to be back at Breamore with her many sycophantic servants. It was too late to correct herself, and why bother when Owen still refused to look at her?

Nicolas Blake was standing when they entered the drawing room, and Viscount Hawthorne greeted him like an old friend. He was younger than Ellis had expected, in his mid-thirties, with cropped dark hair and clever dark eyes and a dazzling smile. He was certainly a handsome specimen.

"Blake! I appreciate you responding so promptly to my request! This is my nephew, Lord Lyndhurst, and this is the Dowager Duchess of Breamore."

Blake greeted Ellis with a bow, those intelligent eyes running over her, while for Owen he had a slightly mocking smile. "Ah, the artist. I have heard a great deal about you from your uncle, my lord."

"And yet I have heard nothing about you," Owen said rudely.

The other man huffed a startled laugh, but the viscount clapped Owen on the back in his usual hearty manner, making Ellis wince. "Well then, you should get up to London more often, dear boy!"

"I prefer to be a country bumpkin," Owen said stubbornly.

"I have heard that, too," Blake answered dryly, before turning his attention to Ellis. "I am sorry to hear of your difficulties, Your Grace."

"Thank you. Viscount Hawthorne says you can help?"

"Yes. We will soon set matters to rights, and then you can enjoy the rest of the Season. I imagine rusticating in the country is very boring when London has so much to offer."

He shot a sideways glance at Owen, who glared back at him. The viscount appeared bemused by the antagonism between the two men, and Ellis was beginning to wonder if she would have been better off hiding in the mountains with Elijah and Rowan.

Suddenly the viscount clapped his hands loudly, making them all jump. "Enough of the pleasantries. Blake, what have you got to tell us?"

Ellis listened as Mr. Blake began to speak. "I have ascertained the contents of the duke's will. I thought it would save time. The estate was not entailed and, although the title will go to Sir Theo, everything of material value was left to you, Your Grace. If you remarry it will make no difference, except that if you die you can leave your fortune to your husband. The only other stipulations concern an Elijah Jones." He lifted his eyebrow at her in query.

"I know of them. Archie told me."

Blake nodded again but didn't ask why Elijah had been favored. Ellis decided that if Blake was as good at wheedling out information as the viscount said he was, then he probably already knew a great deal about Archie.

"There is also an addition to the will. A last-minute addendum which states that if you die a widow, then the duke's cousin, Sir Theo Abergele, gets everything."

"Archie's man of business made that change," Ellis said bitterly. "Archie trusted him, but it turned out he was more interested in what Theo could offer him."

Blake made a noncommittal noise just as Greenwood arrived with coffee.

When the cups were handed out, and they were once more alone, Ellis explained further. "Theo asked me to marry him, although he could see I was never going to accept his proposal. I think he planned to keep me a prisoner at Breamore until I agreed, but I escaped. He must have known I would try to get away from him and decided to use the situation to his own advantage by waylaying my coach. Then if I was killed, he could blame it on highwaymen and inherit Archie's title and estate without being made to look guilty of any wrongdoing."

"You did not want to marry him? Some would. It is the easier option, and after the ceremony you would not need to stay with him. You could bargain with him for a reasonable allowance and then live any life you chose and never see him again."

It sounded cold and practical, but Ellis had already spent five years of her life in a marriage that was more friendship than anything else. At least Archie and Elijah had meant her no harm. Being married to Theo would be unbearable, and as for even the possibility of sleeping in the same bed as him... she shuddered. Anyway, who was to say he would not still decide to get rid of her after a decent interval?

"I decided that this time I wanted to marry for love," she said resolutely.

There was a silence, while the three men stared back at her. Nicholas Blake consideringly, the viscount with pleased amusement, and Owen with a bleak sort of longing.

"I see," Blake replied at last. "But what about a temporary arrangement? I believe the last thing Sir Theo would want to hear is that you were getting married to another man. And announcing your engagement would, I am certain, sting him into action. We need to flush him out, Your Grace, and I believe that would do the trick."

"He's dangerous." Owen reminded him. "And that would put the duchess in danger."

"A means to an end, dear boy," the viscount said, with an admiring look at Blake.

"We just have to find someone to take on the role of the fiancé," Blake said. "Sir Theo will certainly want to remove him or the duchess from the picture before the wedding could go ahead. He wants her to remain a widow so he can inherit when she dies. Would it be presumptuous of me to offer myself for that role, Your Grace?"

"No!" Owen was on his feet, looking furious. "If she is going to marry anyone then it is me!"

Ellis blinked at him, and then gasped as he fell to his knees in front of her.

"Marry me," he said, his voice dropping to an intimate level. He was gazing into her eyes, his own bright with determination and his curls even more tangled than usual. There was even a smudge of charcoal on his cheek to complete the picture of the overwrought artist.

And oh God, she wanted to say yes, so, so much. "You would be in danger," she said weakly. "Owen, I couldn't put you in danger. What if something happened to you?"

"I don't care about that," he retorted recklessly. "Say ‘yes' Ellis."