Chapter 22

Quite why Lady Georgianna Herbert had said it was urgent and concerned his family, Langley had no idea. But whilst his head and concerns were certainly sat squarely next door with Margot, he doubted his one-time paramour would take up too much time.

Lady Herbert sat in his rear facing parlour, her blue eyes darting this way and that. She looked decidedly nervous, as if she suspected someone would jump out of the walls at any moment. "My dear Benjamin will not forgive me for doing this."

Who Benjamin was and why Langley should care, he could barely fathom, but out of politeness he sank into the opposite seat. There was a faint glow from the fireplace, and his parlour was warm, cosy… It had previously entertained writhing bodies, laughing ladies, and groaning gentleman, but Langley was rather enjoying the sheer comfort and quiet of the room, or he would if Lady Georgianna would depart. Still, manners were everything, and he always tried his best to be as charming as he could to his former lovers.

"I will come straight to the point of my visit. You see," Lady Georgianna said, "I am now being courted by Baronet Benjamin Topping. He is the sweetest and…" She trailed off.

"You do not wish for him to know of our previous dalliance?" Langley asked. Why, if that was her concern, had she come here, and risked what sounded as if it might be a love match? The risk of being seen made her decision ridiculous.

"That is certainly a potential problem, but no, that is not why I am here." Lady Georgianna looked uncomfortable and in need of a drink. "I know you think me superficial. That is most definitely the image I have presented to the ton, but my Topping knows me better, and I…"

Getting to his feet, Langley moved across to where his bottles were arranged, lifting up a brandy decanter silently, to which Lady Georgianna nodded.

As he poured out two glasses, Langley's eyes drifted across to the connecting wall. His mind wandered across to whatever was occurring next door. What Margot would be facing, thinking about, how he should be there to bear witness… It was jarring to realise how much he wanted to slide a comforting hand into his Amazon's, to be there to soothe and answer any questions that might vex or upset her. So much for his plan of seduction meaning an end to emotions, what it meant was he could barely concentrate on the matter in front of him.

Swallowing down her drink, Lady Georgianna lifted beseeching eyes to him and said, "You were seen."

For a moment, Langley's mind rioted through the possible answers to what the lady might mean. Normally, when confronted with any consequence for his actions, his reaction would have been to laugh, or possibly to dismiss it. But not now, with his Amazon involved.

Resuming his seat, Langley feigned lazy ignorance, all the while his mind turning over when Margot and he might have been seen. And by whom.

"My Topping overheard it mentioned to a mutual acquaintance?—"

"Please madam, tell me the gist of what was witnessed."

"I saw him too."

This reply of hers perplexed Langley no end.

"Quite why I should warn you… I don't know. But I saw how you were with Miss Keating, and I thought there might be hope for you yet. I suppose I am a romantic at heart, and I wished…"

"Who did you see?"

"I can only assume the man is your brother," Lady Georgianna said, colour flooding her face, and she hastily downed the rest of her drink. "He would be too old to be your son. So, when the matter was raised and discussed, the only conclusion was… I know you have never cared a penny for rumours, but since your Miss Keating is a vicar's daughter, she might." She looked sympathetic for a moment. "It could not be a coincidence, not when you were seen going to and from his home in Bloomsbury."

Philip. That was what society had discovered. And was clearly enjoying the speculation. How soon would there be rumours around Silvester's father or mother… How soon would there be journalists calling on his poor brother? The beau monde when it learnt a long-held secret was vicious. The revelation blazed through Langley, alongside a wash of emotion. He had always promised his mother that no one would discover Philip. It wasn't the fear or worry he had always assumed he'd experience were his mother's shameful secret discovered, but something else entirely. A tiny part of him had hoped that the danger Lady Georgianna had seen was in fact Margot and himself together, compromised. Did he want that known to the wider beau monde? And if he did, why? There was no way in hell he wanted Margot embarrassed… so what else might be the reason?

"I am not the only one to spot the striking resemblance," Lady Georgianna continued, thankfully cutting off Langley's wandering and probing thoughts on why he'd hoped the rumours would have been about Margot and himself. Lady Georgianna got to her feet and straightened the hood of her cape over her hair. "I have already stayed too long, but I wanted to warn you. I know my dear Topping will not say a word, but of his friends I am less sure."

Stretching out his hand, Langley led her to the open doorway leading down into his garden. Walking her outside and then impulsively kissing her on the cheek in what was a decidedly friendly if grateful manner. "I thank you for the generosity of letting me know before I read the scandal rags."

Patting his cheek, Lady Georgianna stepped back and gave him a brief smile. "You are most welcome."

"I wish you well with your Topping."

Nodding her head, Lady Georgianna turned and hurried away, away into the night.

Langley pivoted on his heel and walked closer to the edge of the wall connecting him to Ashmore's garden. It was then he saw the dark woodland eyes of the woman who haunted his dreams and befuddled his waking moments, glaring at him. His Amazon had come outside and had been watching him.

Grinning at her, Langley moved nearer. Only then did he realised she must have seen the entire exchange with Lady Herbert and himself, which, as innocent as it was, might not appear so to an outsider. How their interaction would look to her. Carefully, he studied Margot's face. Was it envy mottling her features? He was not entirely certain why he wanted to see the validation of seeing her jealous. It did not say much about the goodness of his soul's needs, because if he was truthful with himself, he was desperate to receive yet more from her. He wanted to hear and know all there could be from Margot. His feelings were leaving him desperate, but he would be damned if he showed her that side of his personality.

"Lady Herbert was paying a social call," he said. "She came with an important piece of?—"

"Yes, I normally kiss gentlemen on my social calls." Irony laced her words, and she sounded as cynical as he often tried to be.

"Do you?" he asked. Since she was innocent, Langley could not help smiling at the idea of her paying such a call on him. His default was to flirt as a way of easing out of any difficult interaction. It came as easily as breathing, and in regard to Margot, attempting to charm her was a natural act for him.

"I suppose I cannot expect any loyalty from you. There was never any?—"

Reaching forward over the wall and snatching up her waving hand, Langley raised his free hand, begging for a moment of respite. "She came here to tell me about my family's secret—that my brother is soon to be exposed."

Margot narrowed her eyes, still uncertain, so Langley continued. His earlier flirtation and desire to be flippant suddenly felt childish, as if he was devaluing her. Internally, he cursed himself—how did he never know what the best course of action with Margot was? It was as if all the experience with other women suddenly counted for nought.

"Lady Herbert believes herself in love with some baronet. She hopes for an offer of marriage. There is nothing between us," Langley finished. He had never offered such a long-winded explanation to any one of his lovers before, but nonetheless it did not feel as if it was enough.

Slowly, Margot nodded as she listened, mulling over what he had said. She loosened her fingers and moved away from Langley, heading across the steps of her father's stone veranda before descending into the garden. Unable to resist and needing to know her reply, Langley followed her, the wall still between them.

Only when Margot stopped and looked back at him did Langley pause, drinking in the image of her, hoping to preserve it in his mind. She was framed, lovingly held in nature, the fading light from the townhouse painting her in the softest of shades, but it did nothing to lessen the fierceness of her gaze.

"I do not know why I believe you," Margot finally said. "It probably marks me out as a great fool."

"I have done nothing to warrant your distrust." He had not looked at another woman in weeks, Langley realised as he stared at her. That idea should have unnerved him, but it did not.

There was still the blasted wall that divided them, so quick as he could, Langley scaled it, and landed close to her. Margot did not move away, nor did she step any closer.

"I never lie to my lovers." It was a mantra that Langley had always clung to, offered up as a balm to any woman who wanted more from him. However, in this moment it felt like a rather empty statement.

"No." There was a note of sadness to her tone, but how to answer it. Langley felt he was unprepared to fill the gap. "I did not expect anything else from you." It seemed to draw a line underneath that interaction, although Langley did not feel satisfied about it. Margot cut into his thoughts, with her question. "What will you do about the scandal of Philip's birth?"

"Perhaps it is better for all concerned to tell the world, or the ones who care, that he is my father's boy, rather than my mother's," Langley said. It would be scandalous, but it was better to blacken his father's name than his mother's. "My father, being dead, can shoulder it far more comfortably than my living mother."

"It is far easier to be adulterous as a man than a woman," Margot said.

Langley saw a flash of something pass over Margot's expressive face—consternation, confusion even… he wasn't sure. Was she thinking of her own mother's ruined name, or herself if the facts of their illicit interludes were ever discovered? For the first time, Langley bit his lip, unable to press her until she was willing to share what troubled her. Still, it took all his willpower to stay quiet and urge her silently to reveal whatever preoccupied her.

"What will you do next?" she asked, and Langley wished heartily he could have posed this question first. He wanted to know what Margot's intentions were around the keys, the missing diamonds, and the mysteriously absent heir, not to mention her original wish to leave London entirely. Was she still meaning to go?

"I must speak to my mother," Langley said eventually. "And break the impending news to her."

"And Philip," Margot added. "After all, it is his name and future too." Touching concern illuminated her face and a sense of warmth spread through Langley that Margot could feel so much compassion for his brother.

"Of course," Langley said, stepping nearer, capturing Margot's hand, and drawing her along the pathway and towards a picturesque bench, shielded by a weeping willow and away from the eyes of the house.

How had he never sought simple comfort from a woman's presence before? From Margot it was infinite, not sought or asked for, but just a relief to be beside her. He had thoroughly enjoyed a woman's company, multiple women's company, in fact… but the solace of holding her hand in his was a new sort of peace he had not previously imagined. Not that he didn't want to pull her down onto the ground and ravish her. What was this emotion that roared through him, ungovernable? Unable or unwilling to sum up these feelings, instead Langley said, "Your father lost more than just your mother when he did not marry her."

"Thank you," Margot said. "It is kind of you to say so. Few judge a child on their own merits, they are held to the standard of propriety before they are even born."

"I don't judge you." At least he could pride himself on owning that.

"No, but we cannot ignore facts. Illegitimacy, mine or your brother's, will tarnish anyone who comes near us. Your mother's indiscretion will have an impact on your family." Her eyes focused on his. "Perhaps her affair has already affected you deeply. It may not be fair, but to say otherwise would be a lie."

Knowing she was right, and knowing too the sooner he visited his mother, the sooner the matter would be addressed, Langley reluctantly stood up. "I should visit her, and as you say, tell Pip too."

Margot did not look away, her stare unreadable. Slowly she stood too. "I have found by confronting my fears, whether that was by coming to London and seeing my father and his choices, or in our search for the keys—the choice to act has proven difficult, but it has nonetheless been a far better option than the alternative."

She was so brave and steadfast in the growing darkness, the welcome embrace of night, that Langley would have liked to lift her up in his arms, somehow climb the wall and disappear up the steps of his townhouse with her. They could have another wondrous, exploratory night together. He would lock the door to his bedroom, and let the worries of the outside world melt away in contrast to the passion that burnt between them.

Instead, he said, "I will call on my mother this evening, at the dowager house. Then the matter will be resolved." Stretching out her hand, Margot offered him her fingers with the gesture of understanding. He would have preferred if they could part with a kiss. Nonetheless he took the offered palm and kissed her knuckles. "I will call on you tomorrow."

"You will, my lord?" There was a slightly teasing tone to her question. "I would assume that now we have solved the matter of the intruder, and the missing keys are found, that this would conclude our relations?"

She believed because he had bedded her, Langley was done with her. The thought rankled him, although were she any other woman, he acknowledged her statement would probably be true. He would not even be having this conversation were it anyone but Margot.

"I will call on you tomorrow, madam." With a bow he moved away, and towards the rear of the garden, refusing the call within him to look back over his shoulder at her.

In his own stables, he saddled up his horse, and set off to his mother's in Wimbledon, not delighted at the hour's ride ahead of him.

Lady Susannah Beresford, the Dowager Countess of Langley, was an intimidating presence, with the exception of formal events, her only legitimate son did his best to avoid her company. The journey was far quicker than he would have liked and on his arrival at the austere, red brick Queen Anne building, Langley braced himself for her welcome. Ushered inside the house and then into a chilly guest parlour, he waited until he heard her footsteps coming down the hallway, and the door swung open.

"You were not expected, Langley. I am due to call on Lady Rotherham's card party this evening." His mother swept into the grand parlour. Her severe blonde beauty had hardened in her late fifties, and the creamy pearls that flashed around her throat and neck created a moonlit glow around her, contrasting against the disdainful expression she wore. With a wave of her hand, she gestured that he could take a seat. "I assume you have finally come to tell me of an unfortunate incident with some young lady or other." She looked annoyed as she arranged herself in the opposite seat, her expression impatient, as if she cared not a jot for her son. Which, in fairness, was always the distinct impression she gave.

It was with a small amount of pleasure that Langley shook his head. "No indeed, ma'am. I am here about your own affair, which has suddenly come to light."

There it was, uttered, aired to the parlour. Her affair, which had destroyed his father, wrecking the man entirely, and in the aftermath affecting Silvester himself. Margot had acknowledged it earlier, and it was dawning on him now as he viewed his mother that his Amazon was right, his mother's affair had changed him. Altered a naive attempt of his to cling to any romantic notions of marriage and fidelity. Not to mention the by-blow… Poor Pip. As far as Langley knew his mother had never seen her other son after she had birthed him.

Judging by the emotions at play across the dowager's face, she was not pleased. Not remotely. Her eyes narrowed on him accusingly. "This is all your doing. You set the boy up in London. You insisted on doing so for him when there was no need. It was inevitable he would be seen. Presumably one of your many whores saw the similarity and now there is to be gossip. I know it is your fault. It is entirely of your doing that my good name will be damaged. Your dead father will likewise be embarrassed, all because of your selfishness, your…" For the first time words rushed out of his mother, speedy and desperate, only focused on protecting herself. Her words had always been cruel, but she had at least always managed her disdain in cuttingly shorter sentences.

Langley raised his hand in a gesture to cut her off. He was going to need a drink after this, possibly an entire bottle. "Madam, please. Enough of this self-indulgence on your part. You will be pleased to hear I have a solution."