“I would not,” he said firmly. “For one thing, you aren’t truly illegitimate—only your close friends know that your French father didn’t sire you.”
“Hmm,” she said skeptically.
“But Iwouldconsider you fortunate to have me betroth myself to you.” He held up a gloved hand, ticking things off one finger at a time. “First, our betrothal would shield you if anyone came after you for your forged passports. Second, I could accomplish much more in finding out why this Nash fellow is threatening you if I told the authorities I’m trying to protect my fiancée from harm. Third, and perhaps most importantly, if you were engaged to me, it would raise your consequence in society enough that you could find a far better husband than I.”
“Not once you ended the betrothal.” She thrust out her chin. “That would ruin me. Even I know that much about English society.”
He sighed. “True. That’s why you would have to be the one to end it. Indeed, everyone would probably consider you very wise to do so, given my undeserved reputation.” When she started to speak, he held up a hand. “But I’d prefer that you not end the engagement until I get what I want—to become guardian of nurture to my brothers.”
“You said that before. What is this ‘guardian of nurture’ you seek to be?”
He dragged in a heavy breath. “When Father died, his will designated my cousin as my brothers’ guardian.”
“How did your family even know he died? There was no correspondence allowed between France and England by then.” Giselle remembered it well—it had happened in 1806. Afterward, a pall had fallen over Verdun. No mail had meant no news of family, no way to hear of deaths and births and marriages. It had been awful for the détenus.
“Believe it or not, news of Father’s death appeared in the Frenchnewspaper because of our Normandy connection. And because he was an English earl, of course. Then someone smuggled the newspaper out and it made its way to London where the authorities got hold of it and notified Yates.”
“That’s your cousin.”
“Yes. Wait, how did you know?”
She could hardly say she’d eavesdropped on his conversation with his attorney. “I guessed.”
“Right. Anyway, once he was notified, the will Father had on record was the one they used, and it gave Yates complete control over their money and their persons. But I fear that my bachelor cousin accepted—and continues to fight me for custody—because he wishes to make use of their income for his own purposes. Why else would he agree to be the guardian of three boys he’d only seen a handful of times in his life?”
“Itisodd, I suppose.” And why would his father have done such a thing to them?
“They belong with me!” When she winced at his raised voice, he said, more calmly, “It’s possible to have a guardian who’s only in charge of their persons, who feeds and clothes and educates them. My attorney thinks that is the first step in gaining full custody—to convince the court that I should at least be their guardian of nurture. It’s the same guardianship Mother had until she died, since women aren’t allowed to handle financial matters for their children.”
She frowned. “Unfortunately, France also thinks women cannot do such things.” That was how she had ended up under her uncle’s thumb before she had run away to Verdun.
“So, if I want to prove that the boys’ income is being siphoned off by Yates, I need to have them with me. That way I can question them about what’s going on and be sure they’re safe if things get ugly.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she said.
“That’s why I needyou.And this could work for both of us. I solve your problem; you solve mine. Everyone walks away with what they want.”
She was not fully convinced of that. “But will not the court removecustody of your brothers once we end our betrothal? Truly, I shall not go so far as to marry you, my lord.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, you won’t have to marry me,” he grumbled. “Once I expose my cousin’s treachery, the courts won’t care if you jilt me. They do not look kindly upon financial misconduct in a guardian. Proving my cousin’s guilt is the one way to ensure they give me full and permanent custody.”
Something worrisome occurred to her. “You do not have designs on their property yourself, do you?”
Outrage filled his features. “Now you’re deliberately insulting me,” he bit out. “What kind of scoundrel do you think I am?”
She tipped up her chin. “I am not sure what kind of scoundrel you are. That is what I am trying to determine.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “If you were a man, Miss Bernard, I would call you out for that. I should hope you would know my true character by now.”
Clearly, he meant that. And if she were being fair, she had to admit she had always thought him honorable in most things. She simply was not sure how honorable he was toward women.
With some effort, she softened her tone. “And you should know that when a woman is involved, men have a habit of hiding their real intentions.”
He searched her face, then took a deep breath. “I suppose that’s true. But I swear to you on my honor as a gentleman that my intentions are pure, both toward my brothers and toward you.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
He broke it first. “Just out of curiosity, why wouldn’t you wish to marry me? If I were offering for you, I mean.”