by Gill, Tamara
“The more I learned about you, the more time we spent together, I knew that I could not do what I had planned. Had you not moved forward on this investment, had you waited for our meeting, this would never have happened.”
Willow gasped, and Abe cringed, knowing what he’d just stated was the wrong thing.
“Now you dare blame me for this? You’re the one who gave me the investment, spouting on about how sound it was. How dare you blame me for your own scheme?” She stood, leaning over her desk. “I think you should leave, Lord Ryley. We have nothing further to say to one another.”
He stood, coming to the desk and drinking her in, fear and panic rioting within him that his error could cost him her. “I can give you the money back, Willow. It’s nothing to me.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course it’s nothing to you. You have multiple properties, a business that due to men’s greed and need to sleep with women other than their wives, you’ll always have an income. That money that my aunt gave to me was all I had. Was all I’d ever have from anyone. It keeps me safe and allows me to keep my friends safe from vultures like you, gentlemen like you who think some women are worthy of marriage and others are only worthy of lying on their backs.
“You and your hatred stole thirty thousand pounds.” The disgust on her visage was as sharp as a physical blow to his gut. “You can give it back? How very fortunate you are that you have the luxury.”
“Willow, please,” he begged, uncertain of how to make this right. Damn it all to hell. He’d been a bastard. A fool, and now he’d gone and broken what they had been progressing toward.
A future.
“You should also know that I have been asked by Lord Herbert to be his wife, and I have agreed.”
This time the air did whoosh from his lungs, and he clasped the desk to steady himself, hoping what he’d heard was untrue. “What?”
“I’m going to be married,” she said, matter-of-factly, walking about the desk and going to stand at the door. “Good day to you, Lord Ryley.”
He stared down at the mahogany wood, his fingers clenched, and fought to think, fought to understand how he could fix this. Change all that had happened the last week. He closed his eyes, forcing calm through his blood. Turning, he strode to the door. “Is that what you want?” he asked, hoping, praying that she’d say no. That she wanted him and not Lord Perfect.
“Let me answer this another way, my lord. I certainly do not want anyone I cannot trust and who would use me as a pawn for their own gain.” She stared him down, cold and aloof. He’d never seen Willow so distant, and he hated the fact that he’d made her so. He’d made her like this toward him after all they had shared. Their bodies and their minds.
“Willow, please.” He would beg if need be. He could not lose her.
“Leave. Now.”
A footman appeared in the foyer, opening the front door. Abe glanced in the direction and spotted the very bastard who’d ruined his future, Lord Perfect, stroll into the foyer. Who was Abe fooling? He’d ruined his future. He’d pushed her away, used her, and made her lose a great deal of her fortune.
He had no one to blame but himself. Abe strode past Lord Perfect, the gentleman’s lofty and amused greeting lost on him. It took all his effort not to look back. Not to run back to Willow and beg her to change her mind. To forgive him.
Instead, he crossed the threshold and strode to his carriage. Lord Ryley, The Spanish Scoundrel, never looked back. Not for anyone or anything. Not even his heart that he feared he’d left in the library of Miss Willow Perry’s Hanover square home, Mayfair.
Chapter 15
Three weeks passed, and he’d not seen Willow. The time dragged like an endless clock that never turned the full face of the hour, merely clicked and taunted that he would not move forward. He’d buggered everything up with the one woman who’d captured his heart.
He leaned back in his chair in his study, a glass of brandy in his hand on the armrest. He swirled the amber liquid, lost in thoughts of her. Was she happy? The talk about town was that the wedding plans were going ahead with great gusto. Invitations had been dispatched. Not that he’d been invited, but he knew from the Duke of Whitstone who had been.
There had to be something that he could do to win her back. His treatment of her, his immovable stance on revenge had clouded his mind, and before he’d known the damage he would cause by acting against her, it was too late.
A knock sounded on his door, and he bellowed to be left alone before the door swung wide.
Light footsteps sounded, and he glanced over his shoulder, a small slither of hope piercing his heart that it may be Willow come to see him. Instead, the sight that filled his view left him grappling for words.
“Mother?” he said, standing and going to greet her. “What are you doing in London?”
She kissed his cheeks, clasping his face, just like she used to when he was a child. “I came to try and amend your mistake that I heard from Lady Herbert that you’ve done.”
“What?” he frowned, taken aback. “Lady Herbert. What on earth is she writing to you about?”
“Well, as luck would have it, I’ve been traveling and was in Paris when I received her letter last week. She was concerned that her son, whom you like to refer to as Lord Perfect I hear, is marrying a Miss Willow Perry. A woman that has apparently caught the attention of the renowned rake and Spanish Scoundrel, Lord Ryley. You.” She gave him a knowing look, stepping past him to seat herself on the settee. “A glass of sherry, if you please and then come join me.”
Abe did as she bade, taking in his parent whom he’d not seen for several years. She was as beautiful as he remembered her as a child, tall, dark-haired, and golden-skinned as he was. Even at her advancing age, she was a beautiful woman and one who had not deserved the treatment that she received. Which meant her correspondence with Lady Herbert made no sense.
He handed her a glass of sherry, sitting across from her. Abe leaned back in his wingback chair, wanting to give an impression of being undisturbed, but it was false. His mother being in contact with Lady Herbert after all these years was not what he’d ever expected her to say.
“Why are you here, Mother? You swore never to return to London after what was done to you.”
She sighed, taking a small sip of her drink. “It is time that you knew the truth of my leaving England, why I fled as I did.”
“The truth? But you were shunned out of London due to being Spanish. Lady Herbert and Lady Vance mocked and ridiculed you.”
“They did, you’re right, but they did so on my behest. I needed a scandal so bad, so degrading that your father would force me to leave. And so, I, along with my two closest friends, came up with a plan. They would shun me, make up lies of my infidelity, and mock my heritage. It was the only way I would’ve survived, Abraham. Had I not left when I did, I would not be here with you now.”
“What!” Anger coursed through him at the thought of his mother lying to him all those years. Of hating people that were now innocent of the crimes he threw at their head. The thought that he’d treated Lord Perfect the way he had since Eton, the way he’d ensured Willow had lost her money was all based on a lie made his stomach churn. “Tell me everything.”
His mother stared at the burning wood in the fire, quiet a moment. “I married your father for love. We met when he was on a grand tour and visiting Spain. We married abroad and returned to England. You know all this of course. Not long after, we found out we were expecting you, and I was so happy. I had a husband I loved and a child on the way. I had friends, and life was marvelous for a time, but then it all changed. Your father became surly and mean at times. Little things would set him off, and I was at a loss as to why.”
His mother stared at the sherry in her hand, lost in the past as she recounted the story to him. One that he was struggling to comprehend.
“Your father had syphilis, Abraham, and yet he expected me to remain a true and loving wife. I could not do such a thing. Had I stayed, I too w
ould have succumbed to the disease. I tried to reason with him, explain the risks that I would be taking should I remain a true wife, but he would not listen. He wanted me to stay, and he wanted his nightly pursuits in the bowels of London to continue as well. That is when Lady Herbert and Viscountess Vance helped me plan. My only regret was that your father refused to allow me to take you with me. Decided instead that you would be better off with a nanny until you could be sent to Eton.”
“And so you left me here, alone, all those years. Allowed me to be raised by servants since father had washed his hands of me. Why did you not return after his death?”
“Your father ensured I was unable to return. For my silence on his affliction, I had to remain in Spain. Should I not do as he decreed, he threatened to never allow me to see you again. He promised that you would travel to Spain when you were fourteen and you did.” His mother leaned forward, clasping his hand. “I wanted to take you with me, but you were the future Marquess Ryley, and your place was here in England. My friends have kept me abreast of your life, and antics within the ton,” she said, looking down her nose at him. “But from afar, just as I was made to live apart from your life. So you see, my dear, there was a reason for my banishment, just not the one you believed. Now that your father has passed, and you’re a man, you deserved to know the truth. Especially when that truth is stopping you from marrying a woman, I believe, who has captured your heart.”
The mention of Willow filled him with regret, and he stared at his mother, unable to believe this tale that she told. Everything that he thought was the truth, the reason his mother had left him had not been because of Lady Herbert or Viscountess Vance, but because of his father. Because his father had gone mad with the venereal disease, had threatened his mother with the same affliction.
Anyone in that situation would flee or try to escape. Abe stared at his parent and read the fear in her dark-brown eyes that he would shun her. Hate her for lying, but he could not. He reached across the space separating them and clasped her hand. “I understand, Mother. I just wish that it hadn’t been so for you. That father was true to you and never fell ill such as he did. Lady Herbert and Viscountess Vance were true friends in creating a scandal so bad that Father banished you. I suppose I owe them thanks instead of loathing, such as I’ve shown them. It seems I owe many apologies.” One to Miss Willow Perry the most pressing of all.
He shook his head at his actions. However would he make amends, but then, he had not known the truth either, so mayhap forgiveness will be forthcoming from all he’d loathed for so long.
“Why, however, was Lady Herbert writing to you regarding her son’s betrothal to Miss Perry? From all accounts, her ladyship is pleased with the union.”
“Oh, she’s pleased and adores Miss Perry, but she doesn’t believe her son is marrying the woman he loves. He was enamored if you recall some years ago to Miss White. They were not permitted to marry as her father wanted her to be a duchess. She is now a widow and will soon be returning to town. Lady Herbert believes that when her son sees her again, his feelings for her will be as strong as they ever were. That he’ll regret marriage to Miss Perry, and the union will decline because of his mistake.”
Abe couldn’t imagine ever regretting a marriage to Willow. The idea no longer scared him or made him want to cast up his accounts, but instead filled him with longing. With a need to move forward, have a fuller, richer life. With Willow.
“Does Lord Herbert know that his first love is a widow and returning to town?”
“He does,” his mother said, standing and going to pour herself another glass of sherry. “But he’s in denial, and you, my dear son, are reported to be as well. In denial about your feelings for Miss Perry, if you need clarification. When I heard of the predicament that you both were in, I knew I had to leave Paris and travel to London. Tell you myself that you must make Miss Perry cry off her engagement to Lord Herbert and soon. Lady Herbert tells me she believes this would be the best for everyone. We may be getting older, but we still see things as clear as air, and I trust my friend. She thinks you’re in love with Willow, and she believes her son is in love with the Duchess of Markson. The solution is simple. Now you must make it a reality.”
Make it a reality. As simple as that. Abe wasn’t so sure. Willow was extremely unhappy with him and rightfully so. He’d acted a cad, a bastard to have made her lose thirty thousand pounds. He would be hard-pressed to forgive anyone such a crime.
“I will try and make amends, Mother. I cannot say that I’m not disappointed in you in not telling me the truth sooner, years ago, in fact. Why did you not?” he asked, needing to know.
She shrugged, coming to stand before the fire. “There was little point. You may have disliked Lady Herbert and Viscountess Vance, but they knew the truth and were willing to accept your anger at them if it meant that your father’s secret was kept just that. No one in London knows that he was ill with that disease, and no one ever need know. All of that is in the past, and other than the woman you love marrying another, there really isn’t a lot to repair.”
Abe shook his head at his mother’s trivializing of the situation. It was just like her too. Face a problem and find a solution. Pity her solution to her problem years before had led him down a road of revenge and hatred.
“I will make it right and save both Miss Perry and Lord Perfect from marrying each other. I shall not fail in this.”
“Good,” his mother said, smiling at him. He smiled back. Even with all that had passed between them, the time apart and the reasons why, both true and false, having his mother home in England made him happy. And now he needed one other thing in his life to make him complete.
Willow.
Chapter 16
Willow threw herself into balls and parties, nights at the theater with Lord Herbert. Every time she was with him, she marveled at his kindness, his understanding, but each time it became more and more prevalent that she did not love him.
She liked him very much. There wasn’t a lot not to like about the gentleman, but he didn’t make her heart race. Not even when on a carriage ride home from the theater, he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her again. Properly this time.
For all his ability, she may have been kissing the back of her hand for all the emotion it brought up inside of her. The streets of London passed the carriage windows, and she absently stared at nothing at all, wondering if this is how her life would be from now on. An endless parade of social gatherings and very little else in between.
“Willow, are you happy?” Evie asked, staring across from her in the carriage.
She rallied and schooled her features, knowing that what she was about to say was a lie. Since Lord Ryley, Abe, had left her library the month before, she’d slowly sunk into a life of lies. She smiled and danced, laughed, and allowed Lord Herbert to court her, plan their intertwined future. All the while her mind had been occupied with another. The scoundrel who had not only stolen her money but her heart.
“I’m very happy,” she said, forcing the words through her lying lips. She bit back a sigh, wondering what Lord Ryley was doing at this very moment. He was probably at his club, women begging for any scrap of attention he may offer them.
Bastard.
Evie leaned forward, clasping her hand. Willow refused to look at her lest she see in her eyes that she was anything but joyful at the moment. For all of Lord Ryley’s unforgivable actions, she missed him. Missed how he made her feel.
“You’re lying, Willow. It’s as clear to me as if I were looking through glass. What is wrong? Tell me. I’ll not tell anyone else if that is what you wish.”
Willow closed her eyes, slumping back on the leather squabs. “I’m not in love with Lord Herbert.”
Evie nodded consolingly, her eyes full of understanding. “I know you’re not, but I suppose you must decide if you’re willing to let love grow between you in time, or not.” Evie threw her a searching look. “Does your having concerns for your impending marriage hav
e anything to do with Lord Ryley?”
The mention of his name sent a bolt of longing through her, and she bit the inside of her lip to stop her eyes smarting with tears. He didn’t deserve any more of those from her. She’d cried enough over the loss of him. Over the fact he’d used her, seduced her into trusting him so he could steal from her and her security.
“I hate that man. Do not mention him again.” She didn’t need any more assistance in remembering his every touch, how his voice sounded deep and seductive against her ear. How his kisses left her longing and spiraling out of control.
“You love him,” Evie stated matter-of-factly. “Even after his treatment of you, you love him still. You will need to decide if you’re willing to walk away from a future with Lord Herbert, who is everything you’ve always wanted. A nice, secure marriage to a man who adores you. A future where children will feature. Safe and secure just as you wanted. Against a future with Lord Ryley. A man hell bound, riddled with debauchery and someone I’ve concluded for some time that is as much in love with you as you are with him.”
Willow gasped, looking up to meet Evie’s eyes. “He doesn’t love me. His actions toward me are proof of that.”
“Yes, while I agree he acted in a way that begs the question as to whether he is intelligent, we also must not forget that his calling on you the day before you learned of his ulterior action was to dissuade you of the investment. He was going to right the wrong he intended you.”
“Little good that did. I had already moved forward with the investment.”
Evie came and sat beside her, turning to face her. “And knowing that he tried to stop the transaction by going to your solicitor. Mr. Turner told you that himself.”
“Whose side are you on? You’re supposed to be my friend, not supporting Lord Ryley.” Willow cringed at her accusatory tone. Evie didn’t deserve her annoyance, which should be fully focused on Lord Ryley and no one else. And herself for that matter. For allowing her disappointment and wretchedness over his actions toward her to cloud her judgment and agree to Lord Herbert’s proposal the moment he made it.
