“At least I have proved that I can provide materially for my family,” Alex said, giving her a contemptuous look that brought the color flying into her cheeks. “I do not shirk my responsibilities. In contrast, your rackety lifestyle in the ton is hardly suited to the stable existence Miss Ware will require, Lady Joanna.”
Joanna’s eyes were icy with outrage. “I beg your pardon? Rackety? You know nothing of my way of life, Lord Grant, other than what is based on David’s lies and your own arrogant assumptions!” Her tone dripped disdain. “If it comes to that, you are the one who rackets about the world like a poorly aimed cannonball. You may provide materially for your family but you have no interest in engaging with them in any emotional sense!”
Alex’s anger and guilt kindled to a blaze at her words. He had inherited little in the way of fortune but had plowed every penny he had back into his estates and into ensuring his cousins were well provided for financially. It was enough. It had to be enough because it was all that he could give. Amelia had been the one who had been warm and loving. When she had died he had cut that emotion from his life. The thought of Amelia twisted a bitter knife in him again. He had failed once before; he could not fail Ware in this obligation. He was hog-tied, compelled by honor and his own guilty conscience to assist Ware’s orphaned daughter.
“I am sure that your objections spring only from the fact that I am to be your treasurer,” he said, venting a cold anger. “I imagine you would give a great deal to alter that situation, Lady Joanna, given that Ware apparently left you without the means to support your extravagant lifestyle.”
Joanna’s piquant face sharpened into contempt again. “I have no need of the money, Lord Grant. As I said, I earn sufficient for my needs and have inherited more. Besides, money is no substitute for love-the love that you so singularly fail to give to those who rely upon you and which David’s daughter will also need in her life—”
“Lord Grant! Lady Joanna!” Churchward was remonstrating with them like a fussy governess. “Please! This is most unbecoming!”
There was a silence, a very long, deep and stormy silence, broken eventually by Churchward muttering “oh dear, oh dear” under his breath, a rather ineffectual remark, which Alex could not help but feel added little to the situation.
“Mr. Churchward is right,” Joanna said. She made a visible effort to reassert her self-control. “Our being at daggers drawn does not help the situation, Lord Grant.”
They looked at each other, locked in a baffled hostility.
“Why?” Alex said fiercely. “Why would Ware do this?”
Joanna shook her head. “I have no notion why David should encumber you with such a responsibility, Lord Grant.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “I understand well enough why he has done this to me. He wishes to punish me for being an unsatisfactory wife to him by forcing me to go to the ends of the earth to save his child.” Alex caught the tiniest waver to her voice. “He seeks to exploit what he knew was my desperate desire for a baby of my own by telling me that I can have Nina, but only if I go to fetch her myself, a journey he knows will terrify and endanger me.” Her voice faded and she turned her face away for a moment so that Alex could not read her expression. When she resumed, her voice was calm again.
“I cannot imagine what possessed David to embroil you in his revenge upon me, though. Perhaps he knew we would inevitably dislike one another, and so being obliged to share the upbringing of a child would keep us at each other’s throats and make my life as difficult as possible.” She looked at him. “I am sorry he involved you in this, Lord Grant.”
She got to her feet, and Max the dog made a grumbling sound, struggled upright and shook himself, making the dust dance in the sunlight.
“If that is all, Mr. Churchward,” Joanna said, turning courteously to the lawyer, “then you must excuse me. I have urgent arrangements to make for my journey.”
Alex stood up, too. He was incredulous that Joanna could even consider leaving when so much was unresolved. “Wait a moment!” he said. He put out a hand to halt her. “You cannot simply walk away from this. We have to talk.”
Joanna shot him a glance. “I do not wish to talk to you at the moment, Lord Grant,” she said. “We will only quarrel further. I agree that we need to discuss arrangements, but I suggest that you make an appointment to see me.”
“You make it sound as though we are organizing a rout,” Alex snapped, “rather than ensuring the welfare of a defenseless child.”
Joanna ignored him. She gave the lawyer her hand. “Please accept my apologies, Mr. Churchward, on behalf of my late husband for placing you in such difficult circumstances,” she said. “I am always grateful for the service you have provided my family and I am so very sorry you have been drawn into this situation.”
“Madam—” Churchward sounded shaken “—you know that if there is any way in which I may serve you …”
“Of course.” Joanna took a deep breath and Alex realized suddenly what it was costing her to maintain her innate dignity. “Be assured that I shall be in touch, Mr. Churchward, and thank you.”
“Wait,” Alex said again. He put out a hand to her as she started to walk toward the door. “I will escort you to your carriage, Lady Joanna.”
Her blue gaze flickered up to meet his again. “I do not require your escort.”
“I insist.”
“Pray, do not.” She turned on him fiercely and he saw how close she was to the edge now, how tightly stretched her control. “I know that you only wish to accompany me in order to speak with me,” she said, “but I cannot talk about this now. Please excuse me.”
The door closed behind her and for a moment there was a silence in the office. Alex realized that Churchward was watching him with an unreadable expression.
“Was there something else, Mr. Churchward?” Alex asked politely.
“No, my lord.” Churchward shut his mouth like a trap.
“It seems,” Alex said, “that you have a deal of sympathy for Lady Joanna.”
The lawyer’s eyes narrowed with disdain. He took off his spectacles and polished them violently on the edge of his coat. “I am impartial in my dealings with all my clients, Lord Grant,” the lawyer said. “Lady Joanna has always treated me with the utmost courtesy and consideration and in return she has my absolute loyalty.”
“Very commendable,” Alex murmured. “And David Ware? Did he have your loyalty, too?”
There was an infinitesimal silence before Churchward answered.
“I served Commodore Ware well,” he said.
“A lawyer’s answer,” Alex said. “You did not like Ware?”
Churchward inclined his head. “It is generally accepted that Commodore Ware was a hero.”
“That,” Alex said, “was not what I asked.”
There was another silence. The door to the outer office was ajar; Alex could hear the sound of voices and the scrape of quills as the clerks worked, but in Mr. Churchward’s inner sanctum there was a tense quiet.
“Perhaps,” Churchward said, “you should be asking yourself why my answer matters to you, Lord Grant. Why do you question?” He looked up and met Alex’s eyes very directly with a challenge in his own. “You were Commodore Ware’s greatest friend,” he said. “Surely your loyalty to him is unshakable. Good day, Lord Grant.”
And he held open the door for Alex, leaving his question hanging in the air.