The Romany Heiress (27 page)

“I don’t believe I know him,” Giles said idly.

Cate watched Isabella lift her eyebrows and feared
the worst. “It seems, Giles, that will soon be remedied.
They’re headed this way.”

Giles squared his shoulders and Cate felt him increase the intensity of his grip on her hand. She drew
herself up as well. If there was to be a reckoning, Giles
would not be alone.

“Good evening, Spelthorne” Lady FoxHaughton
extended her hand although her tones were cool. “I’d
heard you brought your new wife up to town” She cast
her eyes on Cate and gave her a full study. “I wonder
what other surprises you have for us, Spelthorne?”

The comment was not even couched in the barest of
disguises. Cate felt her temper rise at the insinuation that
Giles had married her for the sake of an ill-conceived
child, hatched in passion without the blessing of matrimony.

Giles made a gallant gesture of raising her gloved
hand to his lips and kissing it before tucking it back
into the crook of his arm. “The only surprise is love. It
is hard to know when Cupid’s dart will find its mark.
But when it does, its aim is true”

The rejoinder was well done. Cate recognized at once
that there was nothing the woman could say without
well-wishing them unless she wanted to appear catty.

Still, Lady FoxHaughton was not a master of her
craft because she gave up easily. “Happiness can be found in many strange places. However this is the first
time I’ve heard of it being found beyond the grave”

“I am not certain at all as to what you mean,” Giles
said.

Lady FoxHaughton turned to the man beside her.
“Tell him what you’ve discovered.”

The blond man leered at Cate while addressing Giles.
“There is no Catherine Winthrop. A fourth cousin by
that name died in infancy. Your bride doesn’t exist.”

“This fellow is charming, Candice.” Giles turned the
full force of his blue gaze on the woman. “It is plainly
visible to all that my bride exists. She stands here right
now.”

“She’s not Catherine Winthrop,” Lady FoxHaughton
protested, her voice rising enough to attract the attention of those around them.

“Then who is she?” Giles challenged, wanting to end
this nonsense before the entire ballroom was alerted.

“She’s a fraud. She’s either duped you or you’ve conspired with her to pass her off as a shirttail relative for
some dark reason”

That did it. The scene Giles wanted to avoid now
held center stage among London’s finest. The ballroom
was silent, waiting for his response. Beside him, Tristan
was alert and rigid but there was nothing his friend
could do.

“Your accusations are outlandish, foolish, and entirely unsubstantiated,” Giles said, holding Alistair’s
gaze evenly. The man needed to have one last chance to
back down.

“No, they are not,” Lady FoxHaughton said in a
quiet tone that was far more menacing than the loud accusations. With an imperial gesture of her hand, she
beckoned to someone at the back of the ballroom. The
crowd parted and a severely dressed woman of middle
years walked to Candice’s side.

It was Magda.

Cate felt weak. She clung to Giles’s arm for support.
All that she feared would happen now. Her world
would come crashing down. Giles would never forgive
her for this.

“I believe you know this woman?” Candice said.

“She works at the abbey as a companion to my wife,”
Giles returned coldly, his mind working quickly to ascertain the twists and turns of Candice’s arguments. What
direction would she go? How much did she know? How
much truth would have to be told to extricate Cate from
Candice’s web of revenge.

Candice raised her voice to assure being heard. `Before she was a `companion,’ she was your wife’s foster
mother when they lived together with a gypsy caravan”

The crowd aahed over this bit of information, their
speculations rising in volume.

“This is an interesting low you’ve sunk to, Spelthorne,”
Manley drawled, relishing the moment. “You’re always
so perfect, so above reproach and now you’ve been
caught married to a gypsy whore whom you’ve tried to
pass off as a distant relation.”

Giles’s fist met with the side of Manley’s jaw. Man ley staggered backward, falling into the crush of people
who’d gathered to hear what was sure to be tomorrow’s
juiciest on-dit.

Cate gave a little scream but Giles didn’t care. Manley’s comments were beyond the pale no matter what
the truth of the accusations. No one spoke about his
wife in such terms. He leapt after Manley’s staggering
form and tackled the man to the ground.

Excited screams broke out from the ladies and men
began laying side wagers. Giles landed three successive blows before Manley pushed him off and regained
his feet.

The fight evened out then. Taller than Giles and outweighing him by two stone, Manley managed a jab to the
stomach that had Giles reeling against the wall. The man
hung back, breathing hard and gathering himself before
launching another attack. “I wonder, Spelthorne, did you
know what she was or were you the complete cuckold?”

Giles lowered his head, his temper racing, and prepared to charge the blond giant. Only Magda’s ill-timed
words stayed his mad rampage.

“Oh, he knew” Magda’s voice stopped the brawl. “The
perfect earl knew. He married her to save Spelthorne and
his miserable pride.”

“No, Magda. Stop this!” Cate cried out from Isabella’s
side.

Magda whirled on her. “You’re the rightful heir to
the title. He married you to silence your claims. I have
given you a chance to take back what is yours. Once
you’re free of his seductions, you’ll thank me for this.”

The guests fell on the information like hungry wolves
to meat. The volume in the ballroom soared to a roar only
to be quieted by Manley’s jeering question. “If Moncrief
isn’t Spelthorne, then who is he?”

“A cottager’s son,” Magda said resolutely.

Horrified, Cate turned to Tristan. “You’re his friend,
do something! Get us out of here” If this went on any
longer, Manley and Giles would beat each other to a
bloody pulp and that would just be the start of it.
Giles’s sense of honor would demand a duel, and she
couldn’t bear the risk of losing him.

Tristan stepped between Manley and Giles. “Gentlemen, there’s much that should be discussed before this
goes any farther. Please retreat. Lady Rosamund, my
apologies on their behalf.” Tristan put an arm about
Giles’s shoulders and ushered him from the room before anyone could protest. Catherine and Isabella followed discreetly behind.

Lady Rosamund had offered them a private room,
but Tristan refused and bundled the group into the carriage, not wanting to give Lady Rosamund any more
gossip for the mill. Her ball would be the talk of the
town tomorrow morning as it was.

“I will see that woman in hell,” Giles was still angry
an hour later as he sat in his library, a cold rag over the
swelling bruise on his cheek.

“Which one?” Tristan asked wryly, helping himself
to a glass of whiskey from the sideboard.

“Both of them I suppose” Giles sat up. “I can’t be lieve Candice sent Manley to Spelthorne and convinced
Magda to talk.”

Cate sat in a corner by the fire, feeling miserable.
Magda’s revelations had made Giles look like a liar.
He’d known, he’d devised the deception, trading his
name in marriage for the silencing of her claims.

“This is all my fault,” Cate said, stricken and lonely
in her corner.

Giles looked her way. “No, it isn’t. It’s mine for even
thinking such a scandal could be avoided. I was foolish
to try to cover it up as if no one would find out. It was
not well done of me”

Tristan cut through the melancholy. “Nonetheless,
what is done is done. The news will be all over London
tomorrow. We must move quickly to secure Spelthorne
in case the crown decides Spelthorne should revert to
royal jurisdiction in the absence of an obvious heir, or
perhaps decides Spelthorne should go to another male
relative with an unspoiled bloodline.”

He gave Cate a hard look. “You need to decide where
your loyalties are. Will you cast your lot with Magda in
an attempt to secure your legacy or will you stand by
your husband?”

Cate rose, anger flaring in her green eyes, fists
clenched at her sides. “You should not even have to ask.
I am for Giles.”

“Tristan,” Giles spoke sternly. “This is not her fault.
She’s not to blame. I will not tolerate such insinuations
against her, even from a friend,” he warned.

Cate warmed a little at Giles’s defense.

Giles put down the rag and sat forward. “I have a
plan to secure Spelthorne. The circumstances are not as
dire as they seem at the moment”

It was a difficult week. Gossip surrounded them
ranging from speculation about Giles’s birth to questions about Catherine Winthrop’s gypsy origins. But
cool heads prevailed.

Giles’s plan was a good one, using the very marriage
certificate and name in question that had begun Lady
FoxHaughton’s accusations. Best of all, it muddled the
importance of even determining the legitimate heir to
the Spelthorne title. If the heir was indeed Giles’s wife,
then all that she had legally reverted to her husband
upon her marriage, still making Giles the legally recognized holder of the title. If not, the signature of the
bride hardly mattered. Giles Moncrief could marry
whomever he liked. After all, hadn’t his friend Baron
Wickham married a French citizen?

The solution was met favorably in the circles that
mattered. In royal circles, the prince-regent was only
too glad to have the matter resolved swiftly without
having to be involved in any legal inquiries. Giles was
too valuable a voice in parliament to be risk losing.

With the prince-regent’s endorsement, the residual gossip about Giles and his new bride turned them
into a couple straight out of fairy tales until much had
been forgotten, and much had been turned into instant
romantic legend about the Moncriefs. Lady Fox Haughton had failed to ruin Giles socially by seeing his
reputation falter under the scandal of his inheritance.

It was with a great sense of triumph and relief a week
later that Tristan and Isabella rode with Giles and Cate in
Hyde Park. Cate beamed at Giles’s side as they greeted
well-wishers.

“We’ve resolved it. You did it with your marvelous
arguments and brains,” Tristan congratulated Giles during a quiet moment.

“Thank you for standing by me, by us,” Giles returned.

“Am I too late to toast your gypsy whore?” A voice
belonging to Alistair Manley sneered from behind
Giles’s group on the path.

Giles wheeled his horse around to face Manley, feeling Tristan turn with him. “You are warned sirrah, to
watch your words when they are directed at my wife.”

“Do you think a title and pretty clothes can make
people forget? A plow horse can never be a thoroughbred no matter who rides it.”

Giles clenched his jaw against the coarse innuendo.
“Have you come here to stir up more of Lady FoxHaughton’s trouble or do you come on your own accord?”

A few of the gathered bystanders chuckled at that.
One of them called out, “He’s got you there, Manley.
You’d do better to have your own opinions and let hers
go hang”

Manley’s face reddened at the implications, and
Giles saw that the banter had made the situation worse. This man would not back down now and he would be
the whipping boy for Manley’s temper.

“Do you impugn my honor by suggesting I let a
woman espouse my thoughts?” Manley said, flushed
with temper and dismounting.

Giles followed suit, ready to swing a fist if need be.

“No one impugns your honor no more than you impugn mine in regards to my lady wife,” Giles said
steadily, knowing the big giant couldn’t agree to one
without agreeing to other. If he did, then Giles had a
right to fight.

“I will not be likened to that woman,” Manley growled.

That did it. Giles swung his fist in a neat motion and
connected with Manley’s jaw. Manley fell hard into an
unconscious heap.

The crowd gasped and swarmed closer. Someone
emerged to tend Manley but Giles was only aware of
Cate at his side. He drew her to him, wanting to protect
her, hating that she’d heard Manley’s words.

“What was that for?” Cate asked.

“That was for you,” Giles said in a low voice.

“Giles, you can’t fight them all,” Cate said softly.
“Manley won’t be the last to cast aspersions.”

“No one calls my wife a whore,” Giles said with
quiet fortitude. “You’re my Romany heiress.” It was
meant for Cate alone but those surrounding the odd
scene heard it as well. A few of them burst into spontaneous applause. It was not often such romance played
out in their cynical lives full of arranged marriages.
This was one for the record books.

“I like that,” Cate said, trying the phrase out. “Romany heiress it is.”

Giles smiled at Cate and then couldn’t resist. He bent
and kissed her full on the mouth much to the approval
of all who looked on.