Reluctant to reveal his flimsy motives, Richard shifted uncomfortably on the stone tomb. “At a raw moment, some puling cub sneered at my bastardy and I swore I’d show them all. The Harmsworth Jewel confirms the Harmsworth heir. So I’d find the gewgaw and brandish it under every disapproving nose in society. Childish, really.” “I remember those stories in the papers.” Genevieve’s expression was troubled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. A lifetime of prurient speculation would sting anybody’s pride.” “I learned young that a bastard can’t afford the luxury of pride.” He laughed without amusement. “It’s a lesson that needs repeating.” She looked puzzled. “Why is your illegitimacy such widespread knowledge? After all, you inherited the baronetcy.” “Every dunderhead can count. Sir Lester was in St. Petersburg for sixteen months before his wife delivered a healthy boy. Odds were that another man had shared Lady Harmsworth’s bed.” His gut knotted. He loathed admitting that the world’s spite was justified.
