Bound By One Scandalous Night. Diane Gaston
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‘You have to give permission, Papa,’ Glenville said. ‘It will be best for Amelie.’
‘Marriage to this—this bastard cannot be what is best for her.’ Northdon spat out the word bastard.
‘He is the child’s father,’ Glenville pressed. ‘You must allow them to marry.’
‘Give your permission, John!’ Lady Northdon became more agitated. ‘Remember Lucien! I will not lose my daughter the way we lost Lucien.’
Who was Lucien?
Lord Northdon’s shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked old and feeble, which he was certainly not. ‘Yes, Ines,’ he said in a weak voice. ‘Not like Lucien.’
A pall came over the room, as thick as smoke.
When Lord Northdon finally raised his head, his eyes were filled with pain. ‘Please get him out of my sight before I change my mind and kill him.’
‘Come.’ Lady Northdon took Edmund by the arm. ‘You must be hungry.’
Lady Northdon was still a beautiful woman, although her features, so like Amelie’s, were pinched with stress and unhappiness. The crisp sunny September day had been rendered bleak—by Edmund. If only he could simply remount that horse and ride far away from all of them.
But that would not safeguard his future son or daughter.
Lady Northdon led him to a smaller drawing room, one with many windows and furnished with a table and chairs. The breakfast room, Edmund thought.
‘I will have Cook prepare some food. Someone will bring it in a moment. Please enjoy your repast and wait for me here. I will come back for you.’
It seemed expedient to agree. ‘As you wish it, madame.’
A few minutes later, a servant brought him a tray.
He ate the warm bread and cold meat, downed a cup of tea and waited. Finally Lady Northdon returned carrying a letter.
He stood.
‘It is the permission. Signed and sealed.’ She handed him the folded paper.
‘Merci, madame.’ He took the letter and slipped it into a pocket inside his coat.
She looked up at him. ‘Treat my daughter well, s’il vous plaît.’
He met her eyes. ‘You have my promise.’
She held his gaze for a moment before gesturing for him to follow her back to the hall. He assumed he was taking his leave. At least he was not leaving the house through the tradesmen’s door.
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