“Then by all means,” Michael murmured, “carry on.”
They pulled to a halt outside the white stone edifice fifteen minutes later. James peered at it through the carriage window.
“Well?” Michael prompted.
“There’s a good chance I’ll be turned away,” James said. “After that piece in the paper, my own reputation has suffered.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try.”
“Very true.” James took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped down onto the pavement. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Leaving Michael to wait in the carriage, James climbed the front steps of Pennington House and approached the front door. He ignored the uncomfortable clenching of muscle in his stomach and reached for the heavy brass knocker.
The butler answered his call with a stiff expression and a pair of arched brows. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dale to see Viscount Pennington.” James handed the butler his card and was promptly shown into a grandiose parlor not entirely dissimilar to the one at Clarington House. Feeling at home here wouldn’t be hard provided he managed to get his nerves under control.
“Wait here please,” the butler said. “I’ll see if the master’s at home.”
James answered with a tight smile. He crossed to the window and glanced out at the street where the hackney he and Michael had hired still sat. Thankfully his son’s life had gotten sorted. If all went well, his own would too.
“What an unexpected surprise,” a dry voice remarked.
James turned, a little surprised to see Pennington approaching. Deep down, he’d expected the viscount to turn him away. The fact that he hadn’t boded well. James stepped toward him and shook his outstretched hand. “I apologize for the intrusion, my lord.”
“Not at all.” Pennington gestured toward a chair and waited for James to sit before following suit. “Would you care for some tea or coffee? Something stronger, perhaps?”
“No thank you. I cannot stay long.”
“Then let us proceed.” Pennington leaned back in his seat. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I trust you’ve read the Duke of Cloverfield’s claims against me?”
“Indeed. Rather damning, unless you’re a sensible person who knows how to spot a lie.” Pennington frowned while James tried to come to terms with his statement and what it implied. “Can’t believe The Mayfair Chronicle printed such tripe since they’ve always struck me as a respectable paper.”
“So you don’t believe Mrs. Lawson and I have been lovers for years or that I was the man behind her divorce?”
“No.” When James merely stared at him in dismay Pennington added, “The Hewitts were good friends of ours. Gave us an insight into their situation.”
Another statement that prompted the wheels and cogs in James’s brain to turn. “Did you already know of their plans on the night of the ball?”
Pennington studied James with an inscrutable expression. “Why are you here, Mr. Dale?”
Deciding a frank approach might be best, he said, “To ask for your help in turning public opinion in Mrs. Lawson’s favor. If such a thing can even be done.”
“And why, if I may ask, would you wish to do that?” Pennington asked. “Last I heard, you shared that public opinion.”
“A lot has changed since then.” James met the viscount’s gaze boldly. “I’ve gotten to know her better. Properly, that is, and…”
“And?” Pennington watched him with an undeniable degree of interest.
“I want to ask for her hand in marriage.” When surprise widened Pennington’s eyes James hastily added, “But before I do so, I’d like to make an effort to restore her reputation as much as possible. And set the world straight with regard to Cloverfield’s lies.”
“Well then…” Pennington gave James a slow smile. “To answer your earlier question, my wife and I were both aware of Mrs. Lawson’s plan to help Mr. Hewitt gain a divorce. It’s the reason we hosted the ball in the first place, so they would have the stage they required for their performance.”
James took a moment to absorb this new information. “They had to make certain people believed the accusations he would make against her in order to break up their marriage.”
“Quite.”
Once again, the sacrifice she’d made for her friend astounded James. He held Pennington’s gaze with sharp intent. “Would another such ball be possible?”
“As it happens, we actually have one planned for the twenty-third.”
“That’s in ten days. A little sooner than I’d hoped, but I suppose it could work.” When Pennington tilted his head in question, James asked, “Would you allow me to use your event for a public announcement decrying Cloverfield’s statements and to make a proposal?”
“I’d have to speak with my wife first, but I’m sure she can be persuaded. I’ll send word tomorrow, if that’s all right?”
Satisfied with the result of his meeting with Pennington, James thanked the viscount and took his leave.
“Did you meet with success?” Michael asked as they continued toward Doctors’ Commons together.
“Time will tell,” James said, “but I am more hopeful now than ever before that everything will turn out just as it should.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” The steel spring suspension squeaked as they turned a corner. “You deserve to be happy, Papa.”
“So do you.”
“Is that why you’ve now agreed to give us your blessing?”
James considered the question. It was easy to just say yes, but that wasn’t as honest as he’d like to be. “A series of things have caused me to do so, like the fact that I’ve been made aware of Mrs. Lawson’s true character, which happens to be so admirable I still can’t quite fathom it. And then I got to know her daughter better as well, and when I realized she’s going to have your child, the only thing that made sense was for you to marry her.
“Of course I want your happiness, but that’s why I chose to deny you in the first place, Michael, because I thought I knew best. I was horribly wrong though, and I fear I caused you a great deal of grief because of it.”
“You acted out of love and I understood that, even if I didn’t agree.” Michael gave a wry smile. “Hence the elopement.”
“I’m going to do my best to make sure your reputation doesn’t suffer when you and Mrs. Petersen marry, but if life in London becomes too difficult for the two of you, I’m sure a smaller town like Renwick could use a skilled solicitor.”
“About that…” When James raised an eyebrow, Michael confessed, “The law was always your passion, your dream. Personally, I’d rather do something else.”
“Like what?” James asked, a little unnerved by the fact that his son might have spent several years receiving an education he didn’t want.
“When we were at Clarington House, Grandpapa said he’d be happy to teach me how to run the estate since you never showed much interest.”
“It’s not that I wasn’t interested, but I must confess the law held greater appeal.” James considered Michael’s comment. “Would you enjoy that, do you think?”