“My sister didn’t find out till I was increasing, and she never forgave me. Once I delivered you, I was asked to leave.” Mrs. Burke released a snort. “Lord Bircham no longer had a use for me. He had a son. And my sister couldn’t look at me…so I had no reason to stay either. I married a tradesman, and he was kind to me.” Mrs. Burke spoke softly, the usually harsh edge to her tone absent. “But I never forgot you.” She turned tear-filled eyes toward Lord Bircham, her son. “So when my sister and brother-in-law passed…” She winced. “I did my best to care for you.”
Lord Bircham’s shoulders slumped, as if the conversation defeated him. “I won’t ever understand…” His voice trailed off. “But why? All the past doesn’t excuse your mistreatment of Lady Catherine or its consequent effect on my honor as a gentleman.”
Mrs. Burke nodded. “Well, you had a title from your father, and you had the love of a mother from my sister. What was there left for me to give you?” She gave a humorless cackle, sounding bitter. “I had no inheritance, and your father started gambling all yours away before he died. You built it back, but it was merely a shadow of what it was before…so I thought…”
“You haven’t answered my question,” Lord Bircham said, but his tone was gentler.
“I didn’t have a fortune of my own to give you, but I could give you another’s…” She slid a glimpse to Catherine. “One with deep coffers, connections, and a respectability that heightened your position in society.”
Quin’s hold on her tightened, and she pressed snugly in to him.
Mrs. Burke shrugged. “It was the only thing I could do for you. I couldn’t tell you the truth—God knows I still don’t want anyone to know it—and I couldn’t give you a title. You already had that. And I couldn’t even give you my affection. It was too hard. I couldn’t bear it. So I did what I could…”
“Damn the consequences,” Morgan added, reminding Quin of his presence.
Joan turned to her brother and nodded.
“Given the circumstances, I believe you owe Lady Catherine and His Grace an apology,” Lord Bircham insisted, his tone formal.
Mrs. Burke nodded once and then turned to Catherine, meeting her gaze. “My apologies, Lady Catherine. I’ll be sure to retract my earlier statements.”
“Thank you,” Catherine said somberly.
“I think perhaps we should allow them some time alone.” Morgan stood and looked back and forth between Mrs. Burke and Lord Bircham.
“Agreed.” Quin turned to Catherine, who nodded her assent. The four of them made their farewells and left, the tension remaining behind in the room that had held so many secrets and revealed so many truths.
Quin assisted Catherine into the carriage, then waited for Morgan and Joan to enter as well before rapping on the roof to signal the coachman to move.
“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Morgan said with mirth. “Brava, Lady Catherine. Remindmenever to beyouradversary.”
Catherine’s face melted into a relieved expression. “I was just so frustrated and angry that I went with my instincts, and they proved correct.”
“They usually do,” Joan added.
Quin grasped Catherine’s hand.
She squeezed it, meeting his gaze with a warm one of her own.
“I’ve seen her in action. I have no doubt that it was quite an uneven match.”
Morgan snickered. “Mrs. Burke didn’t have a chance.”
Catherine swatted at Quin. “I’m not so terrible.”
“I never said you were. I mean it as a compliment.”
At this, she turned her face heavenward. “What am I to do with you?”
Quin could think of several things, none for the ears of their companions, so he settled for a roguish grin. Catherine’s blush enticed him further, and he forced his gaze away, needing to calm his already-burning blood.
“Well, it would seem as if the crisis has been averted,” Morgan added. “And now are we to leave for London?” He said the last part as a lament, as if returning to London were a duty and punishment.
“Don’t sound so happy about it,” Joan said with dry sarcasm. “I do have a party I need to attend, plus there’s a meeting at the library—”
“I know, I remember you telling me. We’ll be there. It’s not worth the pain of your harassment if I forget something.”
“You poor henpecked thing,” Joan said with even heavier sarcasm.