Roslyn fell awkwardly silent, realizing that this was the first time she had been alone with Drew since their angry parting. But judging from his stony features, she was right to think that he was relieved to be freed from their betrothal.
There was nothing loverlike at all about his demeanor. Indeed his expression was grim, even angry. Perhaps because he was contemplating how he would compel the crooked solicitor to honor his obligations.
Roslyn was grateful to Drew for his involvement and glad he would be there with her to break the distressing news to Winifred, even if she regretted having to make the drive to the country in his company.
When she caught his gaze focused on her, however, Roslyn shifted hers away to stare out the window. She wouldn’t think about Drew now. Not when she should be determining what to say to Winifred.
Perhaps she should ask her friend to return the brooch to Constance. She hadn’t mentioned the idea earlier, so as not to raise any false hopes. But it would mean a great deal to Constance and provide a small measure of consolation if she was dying of her grave illness.
Roslyn felt her throat tighten as she thought of the woman’s terrible plight. Yet it hadn’t always been that way. Indeed, some of her past was enviable. Perhaps Constance had not had a legitimate marriage with Sir Rupert, but she had known the joy of true love. And she had three children whom she clearly cherished and who cherished her.
Something Roslyn herself might never have.
Realizing how selfish it was to wallow in self-pity at a time like this, Roslyn forcibly swallowed the ache in her throat. Yet she couldn’t help but be reminded of her long-held belief.
Constance’s sad story was just more proof that men generally loved their mistresses, not their wives-although she was not about to interrupt Drew’s grim silence to point out that distressing truth to him.
Chapter Nineteen
My heart breaks to see Winifred’s pain. How agonizing it must be for her to have loved so deeply when her love was never returned. It is the thing I fear most with Arden.
– Roslyn to Fanny
“Two daughters?” Lady Freemantle repeated in a stricken voice when she had heard the entire tale. “In addition to a son?”
The size of Sir Rupert’s secret family seemed to shock her more than confirmation that his illegitimate son had threatened to steal her jewels at gunpoint.
Drew watched as Roslyn put a comforting arm around her friend. “I am so sorry, Winifred,” Roslyn murmured. “But we thought you would wish to know the truth.”
“Y-yes…I do. But ’tis a blow to know what…that woman did for him when I could not. She bore him three children…”
Mutely Lady Freemantle bit her lower lip, striving to hold back tears. It was clear she was bitterly hurt to have such blatant proof of her husband’s betrayal-and his mistress’s fertility. Her hand clutched at her heart. “Faith, how could I not have known all those years?”
Roslyn tightened her arm around the older lady’s shoulders. “I’m certain Sir Rupert didn’t want to distress you by flaunting the circumstances.”
After a long moment, Drew broke the silence. “We need to decide how to deal with the boy, my lady. Do you wish to lay charges against Benjamin Baines for robbery?”
She glanced up at him, still looking dazed. “No…I could never…he is Rupert’s son. I couldn’t send him to prison.”
Drew gave a faint nod. “I thought you might feel that way, but even so, he must be made to see how wrong he was so that he won’t repeat his crimes.”
“Indeed he does, your grace, but he shouldn’t be punished with prison. I could never be so cruel.”
“What about the brooch with Sir Rupert’s likeness?” Roslyn asked quietly.
Lady Freemantle shifted her gaze. “You think I should return it to that woman…Constance is her name?”
“It would be a great kindness, Winifred. She may not survive her illness, and his portrait may give her consolation in her last days.”
Her ladyship drew a shuddering breath. “I fancy it is hers rightfully. She should have it, especially if she is dying.”
It had been kind of Roslyn to suggest returning the brooch, Drew reflected to himself-yet one more indication of her compassion. The sharp contrast with his mother struck him anew. He couldn’t picture the duchess putting herself out for anyone, certainly not performing a kindness for her late husband’s ill mistress and by-blows. The very idea would have been utter anathema.
He was rather surprised, however, that Roslyn’s generosity of spirit was shared by Lady Freemantle. Unexpectedly, her ladyship swallowed her tears and announced, “I’ll deliver the brooch to Constance myself. I want to see Benjamin, in any case-and his young sisters also.”
Roslyn hesitated. “Are you certain that is a good idea, Winifred?”
Steeling her spine, she sat up straighter. “Yes, I am certain. They are Rupert’s flesh and blood…all I have left of my husband. I can’t turn my back on them. Yes,” she argued with herself, “I must see to their welfare. It would be heartless to let Rupert’s children starve.” Suddenly her brow furrowed. “If Constance dies, what will happen to the children? I will have to care for them myself then,” she replied, answering her own question. “Fact is, I should take them in now…”