Page 48 of Once a Scoundrel

Chapter Eleven

Oldham Village, Lancashire

One Month Later

Stephen knocked on the front door of the Llewellyn family home.

Beside him, Mary clutched Jeremy tightly in the chilly fall air and said nothing in her nervousness. Just as she’d said nothing of worth to him during the five-day ride from Elmhurst Park.

During the past month, he’d sent several letters to the Llewellyns, explaining about Mary and Daniel...and Jeremy. That the boy needed his grandparents. That Mary needed them to help her with him, however they were willing to do. That they owed it to Daniel’s memory—and to themselves—to let the child into their lives.

Each of the letters went unanswered.

But he refused to stop trying to persuade them,couldn’tstop since his future with Faith hung in the balance. So he’d had Mary write several letters herself, including lengthy descriptions of Jeremy and his favorite toys, how he was just starting to walk and babble baby words, how he liked to be sung to sleep at night and carried through the fields to see the animals. She’d even included a lock of his hair and a print of his hand.

A sennight ago came their reply. To leave them alone and let their son’s ghost rest in peace.

So Stephen did the only thing he could. He put Mary and Jeremy into a carriage and brought them across England to the Llewellyns’ doorstep. If they were going to refuse to claim their grandson, then damnation, they were going to do it to their faces.

He pounded his fist against the door.

“Stephen,” Mary said softly, the first words she’d spoken directly to him since the carriage rolled away from the inn that morning, when she’d called him mad and said that his scheme would come to nothing but sorrow. “We shouldn’t do this, not like this. Let’s return to the inn and—”

“No.” A frontal attack on the enemy worked best with the element of surprise. And he sure as hell couldn’t think of a bigger surprise than having their illegitimate grandson arrive unannounced. “We’re doing this. If they’re going to keep refusing to acknowledge him, then we’re going to make them look you in the eyes with their grandson in your arms when they do it.”

She bit her bottom lip in a fit of dread, which he ignored. Because of Faith.

In the month since he’d last seen her, the hollowness inside his chest had grown unbearable. He hadn’t been sleeping well, had no appetite, couldn’t concentrate on running the marquessate...couldn’t ride his horse out on the estate for fear he’d turn the animal toward Hartsfield Park. And for all the letters he’d posted to the Llewellyns, he couldn’t send a single one to Faith. Her parents wouldn’t have allowed it after the way he’d last left Hartsfield.

The only solace he’d found was in the relentless pursuit to help Mary and Jeremy. Which was why they were here. He was tired of waiting. The time had come to force a resolution.

The Llewellyns weren’t bad people. Stephen had known them well from his friendship with Daniel, first at Harrow and then at university, and he’d once even spent a short holiday here. He remembered them as loving and friendly, dedicated to hard work and to each other...But he had no idea what the past two years spent mourning their only son had done to them. He hoped their grief hadn’t hardened their hearts completely.

The door opened, and the man who served as both butler and footman to the small household nodded politely. “Yes?”

“Stephen Crenshaw, Marquess of Dunwich, to see Sir Geoffrey and Lady Llewellyn.”

The man stiffened as he recognized his name. “Yes, your lordship.” His gaze darted to Mary. “And you, ma’am?”

“My companion,” he answered brusquely, offering nothing more. He knew without having to look that Mary most likely rolled her eyes in exasperation, thinking him on a fool’s errand. “We’ll wait to see them.”

“Yes, sir.” The man looked flustered at the quiet order as he stepped back to let them pass into the house. “Right this way.”

“You are shameful,” Mary scolded in a low voice after the servant led them to the parlor, then took their coats and hats. “Using your title to barge in like that.”

“It might as well be useful for something,” he grumbled.

Ignoring his sarcasm, she set Jeremy down on the settee and began to remove his little coat and hat. After four days in the confines of the carriage and small inn rooms at night, the boy fussed restlessly to be put down to explore the large parlor on teetering legs. “I feel like we’re ambushing them. And showing up like this without invitation or announcement, when they’ve already told us to leave them be...You’re going to get us tossed out on our ears.”

“Whatever it takes, Mary,” he muttered and meant it. Feeling just as restless as the boy, he began to pace.

She withdrew a stuffed toy lamb from the pocket of her pelisse and wiggled it in front of Jeremy. “And when this doesn’t work, when they refuse us to our faces?” She placed the lamb in the toddler’s outstretched hands. “What then?”

“I don’t know.” But he knew for certain that he wouldn’t give up, because the alternative...Well, there wasnoalternative.

Mary sat next to Jeremy, and the boy crawled into her arms, then turned to sit in her lap, the little wool-covered toy still firmly in his hands. He lifted it to his mouth and began to chew on its leather ear. When she looked down at her son, love lit her face.

As he watched them, a longing pierced Stephen so fiercely that he caught his breath. He wanted that same closeness with a family of his own. With Faith. But he wouldn’t have any of it unless he convinced the Llewellyns to accept Mary and Jeremy into their lives. Everything depended upon this meeting.