by Liana Lefey
But the greater part of her—the part that had no interest in rationality—was hurt, furious…and completely terrified. Everything she’d ever been taught about men by both her mother and unfortunate prior experience rose to the fore of her thoughts. It was true. All of it. And this man was a consummate liar, just like the last one who’d professed undying love only to break his promise.
Words pressed behind her teeth, but her lips refused to let them escape as he stared expectantly. Her mind was all in disorder as one thought contradicted the next. She didn’t know how to answer him, because she didn’t know what she wanted.
She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. Potent and intoxicating, it whispered the promise of passion even now amid her turmoil. But reason told her that character was of far more importance, and his was more than questionable. He was an even worse deceiver than the last handsome face she’d fallen for—at least that blackguard hadn’t touched her!
And Devlin Wayward had done far more than just touch her. Shame threatened to overcome her as she recalled her own wantonness. She’d lost her head, and now the price must be paid for her lapse.
“Mary?” His voice was rough-edged and trembling with the uncertainty she saw growing in his eyes.
He is afraid…
For all his sweet words and contrition, fear, not love, was the motivation behind his proposal. Love required time spent together—hadn’t she been the one to tell him so? His offer was borne out of fear for his brother’s reputation and his family’s name. He might desire her body. He might even like her a little. But he didn’t love her.
I’ll be ruined unless I accept his offer.. I have no choice.
Another thought, a rebellious one that shocked her all over again, cut in front of all the others vying for precedence. Or do I? It was a dangerous thought—a mad thought—but one she couldn’t silence without due consideration. No one else knows… And they never would, as long as they both kept their mouths shut.
What was to stop her from proceeding as if this night had never happened? After all, he’d spilled his pleasure outside her body. The memory of it sent another wave of heat screaming into her cheeks, and she had to close her eyes to will it away, to remain calm and think this through.
It’s nothing a hidden pin and a little feigned discomfort cannot overcome on my wedding night. It ought to bother her more, the thought of lying to her future husband, but after having been deceived twice she supposed she’d grown a bit jaded. She’d rather marry a true stranger in a business arrangement than be bound to this man, whose very face would remind her daily of her folly.
The audacity of such a thought! Looking at him now, she wondered. If she refused him—if she agreed to keep silent and let the ruse play out with no one the wiser, and he allowed it—if he let her go, she’d know for certain the sort of man he was.
My life is my own. I have a choice. I simply have to be brave enough to claim it. The tumult between her ears faded into silence. She knew what she had to do. Courage, Mary. Refusing him was the right decision.
“No.” Spoken with surprising firmness, the word fell from her lips like a millstone into deep water.
The look on Devlin’s face instantly transformed into one of almost comic consternation. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” he asked slowly, his frown deepening with every passing second.
Of course, he’d expected her to say yes! It was what any other young lady in her situation would do. But she wasn’t any other young lady. “I mean no. I will not marry a man who has done nothing but lie to me since the very moment we met. Every word you have spoken has been a deception.”
Some unnamed emotion flickered in his eyes as he swallowed audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he replied, “I just told you the truth, Mary. My intentions are honorab—”
“You have no real wish to marry me,” she cut in, unwilling to hear it. “You seek only to avoid a scandal.” Standing, she crammed her pain into the darkest corner of her heart and looked down at the stunned man with as much contempt as she could muster. “You need not trouble yourself—I hereby release you from any perceived obligation.”
Incredulity wrote itself across his face, but no objection was forthcoming.
Just as I suspected. It was time to end this. Taking a deep breath and clamping down on her roiling emotions, she forged ahead. “I’ll keep your secret, and you’ll keep mine, preserving both my reputation and your brother’s good name. We’ll pretend this never happened.”
…
The budding hope to which Devlin had been clinging became nothing more than cold ashes as her rejection sank in.
She does not want you. She wanted Daniel. She loved him, not you.
“I understand,” he said quietly. I would not wish to wed me, either. He had no right to expect her to want to be bound to him. “What will you do?”
The ice in her gaze thickened another increment, and her lips pressed together in a grim expression of resolve before she answered, “I’ll go to London as planned and accept the first man my father deems worthy. It’s unlikely our paths will cross while I’m there. In fact, I would appreciate it if you would ensure they don’t.”
Worthy. Though he kept it from his face with all the skill he’d cultivated over many years spent at the tables, the word quietly shattered his heart. He’d been measured and found lacking, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do but accept her judgment. Because she was right. He was unworthy.
That didn’t stop him from wanting. And oh, how he wanted! He wanted to do the honorable thing, but even more, he wanted the happiness he’d tasted in her arms. He wanted her. Not just her body, but all of her. Especially her heart.
Briefly, he considered begging, but haven’t I already pleaded my case and been refused? Her cold eyes and stiff manner told him it would be no use. He’d lost her. Not that she’d ever truly been within his grasp. Not really. He could force her to the altar, but only by exposing his entire family to ruination, and they both knew he wouldn’t do that.
What would be the point when she’d only despise me for the rest of her life? No matter what he did to try and make it up to her, he knew she’d never forgive him. At least this way, she’d be free and still have some chance at happiness. She deserved to be happy.
Powerless to stop what he’d set in motion, he could only numbly nod acceptance of her decision. “Of course. Yes. I’ll see to it.”
Without another word, she turned her back, gathered up her clothes, and began dressing. There was no softness to her quick, efficient movements. There were no shy or questioning glances cast his way. She did not ask for his help, and he didn’t offer unwanted assistance.
Never again would he touch the woman he loved.
His world darkened with every footfall as she left the room. With every creak of every step as she descended the staircase, it grew colder, until he felt frozen inside. The sound of the front door opening and shutting reached him, a sharp report of wood upon wood.
He’d lost her. Forever.
Falling back against the pillows, Devlin closed his eyes and lay there, unable to feel anything but the howling emptiness of her absence. He knew he’d feel it for the rest of his life.
When he opened his eyes the angle of the light coming into his window was all wrong.
The sun. It’s rising, not setting! Kicking off the covers, he sat up—and was immediately confronted by a dull throbbing in his skull and the sight of a dark, dried smear on the sheet beside his hand.
Blood.
Oh, God… Not only had he taken advantage of her, but he’d let her walk out of here, newly opened and doubtless in great discomfort if not pain, to face the night alone.
What sort of a monster am I?
The kind that any decent, sensible woman rejects.
Pain that had nothing to do with how much he’d imbibed last night assaulted h
im, and there was naught he could do to ease it. Nothing would ever assuage it.
Throwing off the blankets, he rose—and immediately sat again as his leg gave out. The jolt seemed to reset his mind to some semblance of sanity. He found his cane and, rising, drew on a robe and hobbled downstairs.
Daniel must return as soon as possible, before he had a chance to make any more catastrophic errors. Fear shot through him as he settled at his brother’s writing desk, making his hand shake so much that a droplet of ink fell on the blotter. He watched the stain spread, blackening the spot.
Like the sins I’ve committed have blackened my soul.
Dwelling on damnation wasn’t going to fix this. Nothing would. All he could do now was try not to cause any more damage. He lifted the quill again and regarded the blank parchment staring back at him. What should he say? He couldn’t tell his twin the truth.
Devlin pressed his lips together. For his own good, Daniel would have to be kept in the dark.
Dear Brother,
My leg has recovered sufficiently to walk with the assistance of a cane. The other matter we discussed has also been resolved. Do not concern yourself further with London affairs, but make plans to return forthwith. I shall meet you in Woodshire on 22 Feb. at the Swan. I look forward to exchanging news in person.
—D.
It was, of a necessity, a succinct communication. The less detail included, the less he’d have to worry about Daniel drawing conclusions and asking questions. He’d work out what to say to him while the letter was in transit. Saturday the twenty-second was less than a week away, just long enough for his letter to reach his brother in London and for Daniel to get to Woodshire and then back to Harper’s Grove in time to deliver the Sunday sermon.
In the meantime, he must make himself scarce. There was no way he’d be able to appear detached if he saw Mary now. She’d made her choice, and he must respect it. It was best that he absent himself and spare her further pain and awkwardness.
Sealing the missive, he laid it aside to take to the inn later, the enormity of what he’d done weighing heavy on his heart. He’d been a rotten apple for many a long year, doing exactly as he’d pleased and never once feeling even the slightest qualm about it. The women he’d bedded had all approached him with lustful intent.
While it was true Mary had put herself forward, his lack of self-control had been unforgivable. That he’d been a bit tipsy was no excuse. He’d known better. If reason had been overcome by lust, it was because he’d allowed it, because he’d wanted her. There was no foisting off his culpability.
The gnawing emptiness inside threatened to hollow him out and incapacitate him again.
Keep moving.
He forced himself to his feet once more and, going about the vicarage, tidied up as quickly as possible. When he made it back to the bedroom, however, he felt himself blanch as his gaze fell on the bed.
Stripping it, he piled everything but the damning bottom sheet in the laundry basket. Then, taking the evidence of his perfidy to the hearth, he tore the stained bed linen apart and fed it to the flames bit by bit until it was entirely gone, hoping Daniel would assume the laundress had lost it when it came up missing. As each strip burned, he felt his emptiness grow.
In spite of his hurry, he couldn’t resist lifting the pillow to his face one more time. But the smell of burnt cloth overpowered any lingering scent of Mary.
It’s just as well.
The empty brandy bottle he stashed at the back of the wardrobe. Daniel would be both furious and disappointed on finding it—he’d promised not to indulge—but by the time his brother discovered it, he’d be far away. It was the least of his sins anyway.
Adding the cassock and collar to the sheets and other clothing in the basket, he donned his own clothes. It should’ve felt like stepping back into his old skin again, but the man beneath the fine, expensive fabrics had been much altered since the last time he’d worn them.
All remaining personal items stowed, Devlin opened his purse and “accidentally” dropped enough coin on the floor for Daniel to buy ten new sets of sheets. He still had more than enough left for the inn at Woodshire and the return to London.
Hobbling downstairs, he doused the flames in the vicarage’s main hearth, leaving naught but a ruin of ashes and an encroaching darkness that mirrored the state of his heart. He donned his coat and winter gear and, turning at the door, looked his last on his brother’s house.
Mary had kissed him in that spot, right there by the fire.
No, she’d kissed a man she’d thought was Daniel.
Shutting his eyes, he opened the door and stepped through.
…
Four days later, Devlin was seated before the evening fire in the Swan’s common room when a familiar voice cut into his melancholy reverie.
“I see I’m not the only one to arrive ahead of schedule.”
It was familiar because it was so close to his own as to be all but indistinguishable to anyone else. Rising, Devlin embraced his brother. “Thank God you’re here. The thought of sitting idle while waiting for you any longer was almost more than I could take,” he said without thinking—and immediately bit his tongue. “Sorry. It’s been a rather trying week.” To say the least.
Daniel peered at him, concern evident in the furrow that appeared between his brows. “Come. You can tell me all about it upstairs. I assume you’ve already procured a room for us?” He paused to address the innkeeper, who had come over and was looking between them with open astonishment. “If you will please be so kind as to send up food and a bottle of wine?”
Wine. Right now Devlin would sell his soul for something stronger, but wine would have to do. And he’d be careful how much he drank, too. The last thing he wanted was to loosen his tongue and confess to what he’d done. Better if Danny never knew the truth.
So eager was his brother to know all the goings-on in Harper’s Grove that the door had hardly shut before the questions started. He answered with as much truth as possible while concealing his most egregious sins concerning Miss Tomblin. After all, Danny didn’t need to know the whole reason behind why she’d be avoiding him now. The lie of his finally rejecting her outright would be enough to cover his tracks—he hoped.
“I must admit I had my doubts exchanging places would work,” said Daniel jovially, shaking his head and taking a sip of wine. “But you were right. No one was the wiser. Now all I have to do is limp a little for the next few weeks and then everything will be back to normal again.” He raised his glass.
Guilt writhed in Devlin’s belly as he did likewise and then took a large swallow of wine.
His brother’s expression grew grave. “I do wish it had been unnecessary to cause Miss Tomblin any upset, though—especially now that I know why she singled me out. A shame she was treated so poorly by that other fellow.”
Another gulp of wine. “Mark my words, had I not done it, her next move would have been entrapment.”
Daniel’s face paled a shade, but he nodded. “Then you did the right thing—what I ought to have done right from the beginning.”
No, I committed a terrible wrong, one I can never make right. But he nodded anyway.
“She’d have been miserable as my wife,” reasoned Danny, his expression turning morose.
The question that had been nagging at Devlin from the start now demanded satisfaction. “Aside from the objections you’ve already expressed, what other faults did you find in her that convinced you she was so ill a match?”
His brother gave a sheepish shrug. “Again, I won’t lie and say she’s not attractive, but I simply don’t think we would have been a good fit. A female as well-traveled as Miss Tomblin would not have been content to remain sequestered away from the world in a tiny village where, to use your words, ‘nothing exciting ever happens.’ My bride must come from another small village and be of more like mi
nd and temperament to myself. I never want to leave Harper’s Grove. I want to live out my life there among people I know and love. I want to raise my children there, and be buried there when I die.”
All the things Mary wanted. He didn’t dare tell his fool of a brother how wrong he’d been about her. “I suppose you’re right,” he lied, swilling more wine to cover his chagrin.
Daniel shot him a tolerant smile. “You would have been a better match for her, yourself. Neither of you understands what it’s like to have roots that bind you to a place.”
But she does! And now, damn it, so did he. “Yes, well, I’m not really the sort of man she’d ever consider marrying.” It was only the truth. “No, I’ll go back to my city of vice.”
A sad look entered his brother’s eyes. “I wish you did not have to go back. I wish you would settle somewhere wholesome instead of living in that cesspool. What an awful place London is! So many people all around, yet it’s so lonely.”
Such words served only to make him feel worse. With forced joviality, he moved the conversation to a new topic. “So, St. Peters signed the contract securing our partnership. Excellent! What of his daughter? Was she any trouble?”
To his surprise, Daniel’s face flushed. “A bit, now that you mention it. Her interest in you was somewhat greater than you led me to believe,” he said with accusing eyes. “Dissuading her from pursuit without earning her father’s enmity was a challenge, but I managed. She understands now that I—or you, rather—are unequivocally uninterested.”
His gut unclenched just a little. At least he wouldn’t have to fend off Miss St. Peters while attempting to put his life back together. If such was even possible. “Out of curiosity, how did you dissuade her?”
“I’d rather not discuss it,” said his brother, the color in his cheeks deepening. “It was not my finest moment. Oh, and I’m afraid you’ll have to hire new staff. I did well to act like you in the beginning; however, circumstances forced me to alter my—your—demeanor in order to discourage Miss St. Peters. I felt it wise to dismiss your household before leaving, as I feared their witnessing another abrupt change in your behavior after yet another absence might raise suspicion. They were paid well, and will be paid again in six months provided they keep quiet concerning their former employer.”
