Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(158)

“Was it his idea to tell me that you died at that bloody school he sent you to?” he snapped.

Her eyes were a great well of sadness that threatened to pull him in. “Yes. He thought that was best for you, and I couldn’t disagree with him. There was nothing I could offer you but my shame. I’m sorry if I made the wrong choice, Griffin.”

He thought of all the years he’d felt abandoned and alone. Those months he’d spent freezing and half-starved on the streets of London, when his mother lived only a few miles away.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, locking a stranglehold on his wayward emotions. “Nothing matters but finding Justine.”

She nodded with bleak acceptance.

“Chloe,” Dominic gently interrupted, “how did you find the funds to establish this refuge and support yourself all these years?”

She blinked at the change in subject. “Oh, it was thanks to Mrs. Lamotte, the woman I served as companion to in Leeds. I was sent there directly from school when I was seventeen, and we became very close over the years. As she had no family of her own, she left her fortune to me on the stipulation that it be used for the benefit of young women who suffered a fate similar to mine.”

“So, you’re rich on top of everything else,” Griffin said with disbelief. “I was starving on the streets of London while you were flush with blunt.”

His mother’s posture unconsciously mirrored his, her hands clenching into tight fists on her thighs. “Griffin, it took me over a year to find you after Uncle Bartholomew died. By the time I did, you were already safe and Dominic had his eye on you.” She looked down at her hands, opening them and smoothing her fingers down over her knees. “I had no way of knowing if you would even want me in your life.”

“So you kept yourself hidden away from me, and from Dominic, too. How could you possibly think that was the right thing to do?” He had to wage a fierce internal struggle to keep his anger from erupting full force.

She grimaced. “That’s a very complicated question, my son.”

Dominic held up a hand to hold back Griffin’s retort. “There is a great deal for you two to discuss, but now we must return to the topic at hand. Before Count Marzano comes looking for the baby and decides to cause an international incident.”

“Of course,” Chloe said with an apologetic smile. “Although I doubt he’ll do that, as I think you’ll see once I’ve explained everything.”

As she drew in a deep breath, composure seemed to fall over her like an enveloping cloak. Griffin had to admire her impressive self-discipline.

“Sophia Bennett came to me through the help of a mutual friend,” she said. “She was five months pregnant. Her father drove her from his house when she could no longer disguise that she was breeding, and since Marco had gone to Vienna the month before, she was quite alone. The duke was expected to return to London but was detained on the Continent.”

“Conveniently detained,” Griffin said. “I expect the duke didn’t want to have anything to do with the girl once he discovered she was with child.”

“Not in this case,” Chloe replied. “You see, Marco and Sophia were married. He had every intention of returning to England and claiming his bride—after convincing his mother to accept her.”

Startled, Griffin glanced over at Dominic.

Dominic’s dark brows lifted. “Married? Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes. I spoke to the minister who performed the ceremony. It was by special license, of course. For obvious reasons, they kept their marriage fully secret.”