The Duchess of Haverford looked up from the letter she was reading. “Aldridge, dear, have you ever met Ruthford’s grandson?”
Aldridge lowered his newspaper to attend to his mother’s question. “Matthew Strathford-Bowes? Tragic, what happened to him. Or one of the Foxton brothers?”
“The other grandson, Aldridge,” the duchess clarified. “Lionel O’Toole.”
“O’Toole,” Aldridge repeated, frowning as he considered. “Ah yes. The illegitimate grandson. Part-Indian, or so I understand. Though one would think Irish, with a surname like that.”
“His mother was the daughter of an Irish soldier who married a Bengali lady,” the duchess explained. “I remember when the poor little boy arrived here from India. Ruthford acknowledged him, had him educated, and bought him a commission in the cavalry.”
“Ah, yes. He serves with the younger Foxton,” Aldridge commented. “I know the older one, Viscount Westberry. Fellow doesn’t think much of his brother, but likes his cousin. Says it’s a pity the man is illegitimate.”
Her Grace waved the letter. “Not illegitimate apparently. The letter is from Ruthford’s sister, Lady Patricia. Apparently, Ruthford concealed a marriage certificate. Lionel is the only son and rightful heir of Ruthford’s eldest son.”
Aldridge whistled. “That will ruffle a few feathers in the Committee for Priviliges. I imaging O’Toole is none too pleased, either.” He gave a bark of laughter. “Mind you, I’d love to know what the mothers of marriageable maidens will make of it. The heir to an earldom. Healthy, wealthy, and with all his teeth. And a war hero besides!”
“They are too late,” the duchess said, waving the letter again. “Lionel is married. Quite suddenly apparently, and under some unusual circumstances involving an heiress on the run from Roderick Westinghouse.”
“Hernware’s brother? I don’t blame her for running away.”
“Neither does Lady Patricia, but she is concerned about what the Westinghouses might say,” said Her Grace.
Aldridge grinned. “What does Lady Patricia want us to do about it, Mama?”
The duchess gave her son a fond smile. “You are correct, my dear. Lady Patricia would like the ton to know the truth about her grand-nephew and his new wife and their romance. The ton does love a love story.”
“The truth, Mama? Or a favourable version of it?”
She shook her head at him. “You are a cynic, Aldridge. But you will help me, will you not?”