feared—he wanted only to discuss his daughter. ‘I would need to see Lisa and her nanny together. It would be best if it happened casually. If Nanny knows she is being observed, I should learn nothing.’
‘You understand at once, as I knew you would,’ Gerard said, looking pleased. ‘I brought Lisa to Pendleton with me, though I did not allow her to come down to dinner last evening for she is not ready yet. However, she will be present at the children’s party this afternoon. Susannah has lots of small presents and prizes for the young ones. I shall be there. Perhaps…if it is not too much trouble?’ He arched his brows at her.
‘I had intended to be there anyway. I enjoy these things and Susannah will need a little help to organise the games and present giving. It will be no trouble to observe your daughter and her nanny.’
‘How generous you are…’ He paused as Amelia gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘It will be good to have a lady’s opinion in this matter. I have no female relations that I may call upon.’
‘Does your late wife not have a family?’
‘I have no idea. I met Lisette after a bloody battle between the French and the Spanish troops. She had been ill used and I took pity on her. I married her to protect her and to give her unborn child my name. She never spoke of her family. I imagine they were killed during the conflict…’ Gerard was looking straight ahead, a nerve flicking at his temple. ‘I knew nothing about her, except that she was French and clearly of gentle birth.’
‘You love the child very much, do you not?’
‘I fell in love with her when she was born. I was present and helped bring her into the world for there were few doctors available to us—and so she became mine.’ Gerard glanced towards her. ‘After I left England, I was a disappointed man, Amelia. At one time I had nothing to live for. Indeed, I might have welcomed death on the battlefield. I married Lisette because it seemed the best way to protect her and I had abandoned all hope of happiness…but when her child was born I loved the child from the first moment of seeing her.’
‘Yes, you mentioned something of this once before.’Amelia looked thoughtful. ‘You said that your wife was ill for a long time after the child’s birth?’
‘She took no interest in the babe at all. I was able to secure the services of a wetnurse. Often I cared for the child myself, changing her and feeding her as she began to take solid foods. Lisette had no interest in anything for a long time. When she recovered a little…’ He shook his head, as she would have questioned him. ‘After she died, I engaged the services of a nurse, and when the war was over I made the decision to keep Lisa in France with me. At that time I was not sure what to do for the best.’
‘You thought you might live there because your child’s mother was French?’
‘I must confess that for a while I considered leaving the child in France with a nurse,’ he admitted. ‘I was a soldier, a single man—and my estate was in some trouble. I have rectified that now, though I am not as rich as Pendleton or Coleridge.’ He gave Amelia a rueful look. ‘When we first met I had hardly any fortune at all. I dare say that was the reason Sir Michael did not consider me a worthy husband for his sister.’
‘He had no right to send you away.’ Amelia hesitated, then lifted her gaze to meet his because she needed to ask. ‘Why did you not send me word of what happened? Surely you knew that I would have gone with you had you asked? I would not have allowed Michael to prevent our marriage if I had known. I suspected that he had had a hand in it, but when you told me what he did to you—’ She broke off and sighed. ‘It was a wicked thing that Michael did to you—to us…’
‘I ought to have known you would elope with me, despite what your brother said when he had me beaten,’ Gerard admitted. ‘I suppose I was humiliated and angry—even bitter. I was not certain that you loved me enough to defy him. At that time I did not expect to be my uncle’s heir. He had a son who should have inherited. Had my cousin not died of a putrid chill, I must have made my living as a soldier. Perhaps your brother had some right on his side, Amelia.’
‘No, he did not,’ she contradicted at once. ‘Your lack of fortune meant nothing to me, Gerard.’
‘I am no longer a pauper. I have worked hard and my business ventures prosper. However, your own fortune surpasses mine these days. I well remember that you had nothing when I asked you to be my wife.’
‘I did not expect that to change. It was a surprise when my greataunt asked me to live with her—and when she left everything to me. She had told me that I would have something when she died, but I had no idea that she was so wealthy.’
‘It was a stroke of luck for you, I suppose.’
‘Yes…though it has its drawbacks. My brother and sister-in-law are resentful of the fact that I inherited a fortune they believe should have gone to them. Michael has been unpleasant to me on more than one occasion since my aunt died.’
‘They had no right to expect it. Lady Agatha might have left her money anywhere.’
‘Indeed, she might,’ Amelia said. ‘I believe her deceased husband also had relatives who might have hoped for something—but they at least have not approached me on the matter.’
‘And your brother has?’ His brows arched, eyes narrowed and intent.
‘Several times,’ Amelia said. ‘It has been the subject of endless arguments between us. Michael thinks I should make most of the money over to him. I have no intention of doing what he demands, but it has made for bad blood between us.’ She hesitated, then, ‘I have not spoken of this to anyone but Emily—but his last visit was almost threatening. I was a little disturbed by it, I admit.’
‘Sir Michael is of a violent temperament…’
Amelia was silent for a moment, then, ‘You are thinking it might have been he who tried to have me abducted at Pendleton the summer before last? I believe you thought it then?’
‘It is possible, but I may have been mistaken. My own encounter with him may have coloured my thinking. If it was him, why has he not carried the threat further? Why stop at one attempt?’
‘I do not know. For a long time I thought that there might be another attempt, but nothing happened.’
‘It is puzzling. The likely explanation seems that it was actually Susannah who was the intended victim and you were mistaken for her. As you know, there was some awkwardness between the Marquis of Northaven and Harry Pendleton at that time.’
‘That is one possibility, and yet I cannot think that we are alike. Emily is convinced that my brother means me harm. She overheard something he said to me some months ago and she suggested that he would benefit if I died.’
‘Would he?’
‘At the moment he is the largest, though not the only, beneficiary.’
Gerard nodded. ‘It might be wise to change that and let it be known that you have done so, Amelia.’
Amelia’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I cannot think that Michael would wish to see me dead—even for a fortune. My brother is bad tempered and arrogant, but I would not have thought him a murderer.’
‘It would not hurt to take some precautions. I could arrange for you to be watched over—as I did once before. And changes
