“I had nothing to do with your daughter’s disgrace.”
“That’s of little consequence to me,” Lord Davies informed him. “I hired Bow Street to find Colin Fox, and Mr. Wickham has accomplished that task.”
“Lord Grantham has green eyes. According to Lady Davies, the other Colin Fox’s eyes are a nice shade of blue. Since Lord Grantham cannot change the color of his eyes, he cannot be the only Colin Fox,” Wickham reminded the baron.
“Unless my wife and daughter are mistaken about the color of the rogue’s eyes being a nice shade of blue,” the baron said, “instead of a nice shade of leaf green.”
“Women don’t usually mistake that sort of thing,” Wickham disagreed. “Lord Grantham isn’t the Fox we seek.”
“But he’s the one we have.”
Colin didn’t like the sound of that. “Lord Davies—” he began.
But the baron cut him off. “Do you know where the blue-eyed Colin Fox is?”
“No,” Colin admitted.
“Can you prove there is a blue-eyed Colin Fox?” Lord Davies asked.
“Not at the moment,” Colin admitted. “But I don’t have to. Your daughter can prove there’s another one. She eloped with someone, sir. Someone who married her using the name I sometimes use.”
“And you’ve no idea who that someone is,” Lord Davies concluded.
“None. But I’ll wager his decision to use that particular name wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Is it possible that he’s using his real name?” Wickham asked.
Colin shook his head. “According to our information, there should only have been one Colin Fox in greater London and its environs.”
“And now you’ve got two,” Wickham said.
“Of which we’re aware.”
Wickham pursed his lips in thought, then began to pace the width of the room. “I agree with you, Lord Grantham. That’s not coincidence.”
“Coincidence or not, it’s going to be fortuitous for my daughter,” Baron Davies announced. “Because I intend to see that something good comes of this disaster.” He gave Colin a speculative look. “You’re a viscount, Lord Grantham, from an old and respectable family. Gillian could do far worse.”
Lord Davies’s suggestion stunned Colin. “You can’t mean to imply that I should assume responsibility for another man’s actions—”
“What other man?” The baron was all innocence. “As far as I know, you’re the only man.”
“Your daughter knows otherwise,” Colin reminded him.
“My daughter desperately needs a way out of the mess,” Lord Davies replied. “And I mean to do the best I can for her and the child she may be carrying by providing it.” He looked Colin up and down. “You may not be the scoundrel who seduced and abandoned her, but you’ve admitted to using the same name. As far as I’m concerned, you and Colin Fox are one and the same.”
“We are not one and the same,” Colin corrected.
But Baron Davies wasn’t listening. “She married Colin Fox in good faith, and that’s the same as marrying you.”
“It is not the same,” Colin’s Scottish bun grew more pronounced as his voice took on determined edge. “I did not marry your daughter. And she did not marry me.”
Baron Davies looked Colin in the eye. “But you will,” he said. “And so will she.”
“Oh, no...” Colin held up his hand as if to stop the words and the idea he knew would follow. For once the baron gave voice to the idea, there would be no going back.
“It would be an ideal solution,” Wickham added, suddenly realizing the advantages of Lord Davies’s proposition.
“For whom?” Colin demanded.