He walked almost blindly down the stairs. He’d accepted the fact that Bridget had been mad in her final months. He didn’t understand why or what had brought it on. The worry that he had contributed to her condition continued to nag him. But regardless of its source, her state of mind absolved her in the eyes of the law. That had only just begun to sink in.
But forgiveness from God? For himself and Bridget both? His heart raced and pounded at the possibility, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He had lied to the heavens, but perhaps it did not matter in the end.
Layton squinted against the unusually bright sunlight as he stepped outside and made his way to the stables. “Saddle Theron,” he instructed a groom who had appeared at his arrival.
Layton needed to make a much-overdue journey.
* * *
“I have met your cousin, Marion,” Roderick tried to reassure her. “You have nothing to fear at his hands.”
“But I don’t know him at all. I feel like a burden. He probably wishes I’d never been found.”
“Nonsense, Marion!” Adèle lightly scolded. “The new Lord Grenton was frantic when he contacted us trying to find you. I can only imagine he was relieved when he received Roderick’s letter yesterday.”
“He is really coming here?” What would this unknown cousin think of her? Would he be upset by the burden of her care?
“Posthaste, I would think,” Roderick said.
Tea was interrupted by a knock at the drawing room door.
“Maybe that is Layton,” Lady Lampton said, her brows furrowed with a hint of worry. “I thought for sure he would return for tea.”
“Where did he take himself off to?” Miss Sorrel Kendrick asked, the question seemingly directed at Lord Lampton, who just shrugged and watched the door.
The butler stepped inside and announced quite properly, “The Marquess of Grenton.”
Marion nearly dropped her teacup. She looked to Roderick, who had already risen. He offered her a reassuring smile. Marion rose as well and turned to face the door as the new arrival entered.
What she saw shocked her more than she could have predicted. This stranger could have been her own brother, not so much for his likeness to Robert but for his close resemblance to herself. He sported a head full of deep red hair, not fiery like hers but red just the same. His eyes were the same shade of dark brown. Something in his face reminded her instantly of her own reflection.
“Lord Grenton.” Roderick offered a bow.
“Your Grace.” Lord Grenton returned the gesture.
“May I introduce you to Lady Marion Linwood, your cousin.” Roderick brought the gentleman to Marion’s side. She curtsied as he stared. Perhaps he saw the resemblance himself.
“Lady Marion.” He bowed his head.
“Lord Grenton.” The name felt odd on her lips. Lord Grenton had always been her father.
As if reading her thoughts, he smiled and said, “I haven’t quite grown accustomed to the title, I am afraid. Especially coming from someone who looks strikingly like my sister, Beth.”
Marion smiled then. He had a sister.
“Perhaps you might be persuaded to call me Cousin Miles,” Grenton suggested. “It would be less awkward for both of us, I am sure.”
“Cousin Marion would do for myself as well.” She liked him already.
“Well, Hartley,” Cousin Miles addressed Roderick once more, “you seem to have worked a miracle. I was beginning to fear I would never locate my mysterious cousin.”
Roderick smiled. “I am certain Lady Lampton would excuse us to allow the two of you to become acquainted and satisfy one another’s curiosity.”
Lady Lampton expressed her desire that they do just that, and Roderick and Adèle accompanied Marion and her newfound cousin to a small sitting room not far from the more formal drawing room. As they all settled in, Marion took a moment to study Cousin Miles. Besides the startling resemblance, he was intriguing. His face was bronzed from obvious hours spent in the sun, and he carried himself more like a laborer than a gentleman.
“Cousin Marion.” He addressed her once the door was closed behind them all. “I cannot begin to offer my apologies for what you must have endured these past months. Had I realized the chaos you’d been thrown into, I assure you—”
“Best start at the beginning, Grenton,” Roderick suggested.
Cousin Miles nodded. “I have lived in the West Indies for four years, Cousin Marion. I inherited a sugar plantation there from my father and have been overseeing it. It came as something of a shock to hear that I had suddenly become the heir to a cousin I didn’t know, one who was a marquess, of all things. I knew nothing of the circumstances of my inheritance beyond the bare facts with which I had been provided.