Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Christine Merrill

  But that mattered little to him. He had enough on his mind without adding this. ‘State your business and then leave,’ he said, waiting.

  ‘I have come to force you to acknowledge me. You cannot avoid me for ever, you know,’ Solomon said, smiling his smug smile that was oddly familiar from looking at his own reflection.

  ‘I do not see why not,’ Michael replied. ‘You have managed to avoid me for nearly thirty years.’

  ‘Not intentionally, I assure you,’ the man said with a laugh, then sobered. ‘But I do not suppose that matters to you.’

  ‘It does not,’ Michael agreed. ‘I have learned to get along well enough without you all this time, and I do not need you now.’

  ‘It is not a matter of need on either of our parts,’ Solomon said, walking into the room and sitting in the most comfortable chair by the fire. ‘Whether you want it to be true or not, we are of the same blood.’

  It was a fact. He could not exactly wish away the man, now that he’d appeared. ‘I thought myself a bastard,’ he snapped at last. ‘For decades, I have thought my mother’s stories were nothing more than lies.’

  ‘It does you no credit that you did not believe the woman who gave you life,’ he said, suddenly disapproving.

  ‘Because her stories were ridiculous,’ Michael snapped in return. ‘There was no sign of the man she described to me, and no proof of her marriage. When I enquired into the Solomons, they ran me off the property without a word of explanation.’

  ‘Neither family was happy with our marriage,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘They thought us both too young, and I was a second son with no real fortune. The story is different now, of course. My older brother died without issue. I went to my family first when I returned to England and was greeted as the prodigal, with rings and robes and a fatted calf.’ He sounded as ambivalent about it as Michael was of his own parentage. ‘But the long and short of it is that you are indeed a legitimate member of the Solomon family, and sole heir to both the estate I gain from them and anything I have earned myself.’

  When Michael did not respond, he added, ‘Surely it is better to have me than to think yourself illegitimate.’

  ‘It should be,’ Michael said, wondering at his own reaction.

  ‘Do not tell me that you never wondered about the identity of the man who sired you. Just who did you expect to find?’

  ‘I did not know,’ he lied. But he had assumed that the man was at least landed gentry. And thus he had assumed that his blood was in some way superior to other men in diminished circumstances. His success was guaranteed if he worked hard and was resourceful.

  He had never considered that he might really be a member of the Solomon family, who were both landed and wealthy. At one time, he had looked on them with envy. Now, after years of fending for himself and his mother, the gentry seemed soft, naïve and unenviable.

  ‘If you expected a title, I am sorry to disappoint you,’ Solomon said, clearly annoyed.

  ‘No,’ Michael said, embarrassed that this man would think he still harboured childhood fantasies that a powerful future might some day come to him without the need for hard work. Of course he must understand labour as well or better than Michael did. His life as a common seaman would have been far from easy.

  ‘I did not intentionally abandon your mother, or you,’ Solomon reminded him. ‘There was never a day in the last three decades that I did not think of you or wish to be with you. And now that I am here I am pleased by what I have found, and disappointed that I was not here to advise you, and to claim some part in the man you have become. You have done me proud, Michael.’

  Those were precisely the words he had longed to hear for most of his life. He had wanted a father to be proud of him, and to regret having cast him off, unnamed. To find that he had always been wanted... It was as if a piece of his heart had been missing, and he had learned to live with the void. But now that the piece was found, even though it might fit precisely where it belonged, he could not work up the nerve to place it there.

  ‘All I am asking is that you join me for a drink or two, and we talk,’ Solomon said gently. ‘Do me the courtesy that you would a stranger. I do not demand that you love me as a father. But since I will be living with your mother from this moment forward, it will do neither of us harm to be better acquainted.’

  He was right. No matter what Michael might wish, the man was not going to disappear again. Should he want to, Michael would feel obliged, for his mother’s sake, to find the fellow and drag him back. ‘A drink,’ he agreed, reaching for the brandy decanter and calling for the housekeeper to bring a second glass.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Now that Michael was gone, things were even worse than they had been before his arrival. Liv was bored, frustrated and heart-achingly lonely. She was still trapped in her brother’s house, and the nightmares were worse than ever.

  She had hoped that, despite what he had said when they’d parted, Michael would relent and come back for her, planning a brave rescue, as Alister had. But there had been no word from him in over a week.

  And what was she to do about Alister? She had promised her brother that she would not be running away with him again, but she was not sure that Alister knew or agreed. He had been as plain in his break from her as Michael had been, but he had since smuggled several messages to her, which she had burned without reading. It did not matter to her if he meant to apologise or wished another trip to Scotland. It was over between them.

  She wondered if he would be waiting on the next day’s visit to Mrs Wilson, ready to eat his words and disavow the way he had rejected her in the inn. If he did, it was proof that he had not understood any better than she had, that time could not be turned back to play out in the way one wanted it to.

  But that did not mean one could not try to change the future. Her breath caught in her throat. She had not been truly happy until she had decided to take matters into her own hands and escape the house. And now she’d forgotten and gone back to being passively unhappy. She needed to take control of her future or she would spend the rest of her life staring out of the window.

  First, she waited until Hugh was out of the house and made a trip to his office, searching the desk until she found the information that she needed. The next day, as the footman loaded the charity baskets into the carriage, she requested one extra and prepared the contents herself. Then she hurried Molly to the carriage and dragged her through the stops until they arrived at Mrs Wilson’s house.

  ‘The Duke says I am not to let you go in alone,’ the maid said, clearly afraid that she was about to anger either her mistress or her employer.

  ‘It is all right,’ Liv said, giving her an encouraging smile. ‘In fact, it might be easier if you come in with me this time.’

  She let Molly lead the way up the stairs, carrying the basket herself. The door opened before the girl could manage to knock.

  ‘I have waited so long. Why did you not answer my messages?’ Then Molly was pulled, squealing, into the room and kissed on the lips before Alister had even realised that he’d grabbed the wrong woman. He thrust her away again almost as quickly, wiping his mouth and cursing.

  ‘I did not answer because I did not want to run away again,’ Liv said in a calm voice, staring at the man in front of her. He was a handsome enough man under normal circumstances. But as he was now, his face red with anger and embarrassment over a trifling incident, she wondered what it was that she had ever been attracted to.

  ‘Do not be ridiculous,’ he said. ‘You have been trying to get out of your brother’s house since the first moment we met.’

  ‘I have changed,’ she said, handing the basket to Mrs Wilson. ‘If I ever manage to leave Hugh’s home, it will not be to marry you.’ She turned, preparing to go again.

  ‘You cannot leave me,’ Alister said, grabbing her arm, his anger replaced by amazement.

&n
bsp; ‘On the contrary. You were the one who left me. I think you were quite adamant about it when we were last together.’

  ‘That was said in the heat of the moment,’ he said. ‘You cannot hold me to it.’

  ‘Hold you to your words?’ she said, surprised. ‘I thought it was the hallmark of gentlemen not to say things they do not mean.’

  ‘When one is in love, it is different,’ he said.

  ‘But do you love me, really?’ she asked. ‘And did I ever love you? Or were we both simply in love with the idea of being together?’

  ‘Of course we are in love,’ he said, dismissing her words, as he had done so many times recently. Then he reached to pull her to him in an embrace that he probably thought would make all things right again.

  She stepped clear of his outstretched arms. ‘Well, I am no longer sure of my feelings.’ It was a white lie, for she grew more sure of what she felt each moment she spent with him. ‘And thus, I must release you from any promises you have made me.’

  ‘I do not want to be released,’ he said with a huff. ‘I want you to come to your senses.’

  She shook her head sadly. ‘That is the trouble, Alister. I think I have.’

  ‘You must realise that, after the things we have done together, your reputation is ruined. No man would ever want you after what we have done.’

  Blackmail. It should not have surprised her, but it did. ‘Those words are all I need to be sure my instincts are correct,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘It does not matter if no other man wants me, Alister. I have no intention of marrying you just because you are my last hope. I am sorry, but I simply cannot.’

  Then she stepped out into the hall, dragging Molly after her, and shut the door. They hurried down the steps in silence and made it all the way to the coach before Molly blurted, ‘What am I to tell the Duke?’

  Liv rolled her eyes. ‘About this stop? Anything you like. Tell him the truth. I think he will approve of what I have done. But about the next stop?’ She smiled. ‘If you value your position, you will not say a word.’ Then she gathered the last basket close to her heart and signalled the driver to take them to Gracechurch Street.

  * * *

  Michael was in the sitting room staring into the fire when he heard a knock at the door. A short time later, the housekeeper showed his father into the room. Without waiting for an invitation, John Solomon took the chair opposite him, then glanced at the brandy bottle.

  From another man, it might have been a hint that a drink was requested, but today Michael sensed disappointment in the look, as if the man did not like to see him drinking spirits so early in the day.

  Michael drained the glass he was holding, filled it again with a slow deliberate motion, then put it down. ‘What is it now?’

  John Solomon smiled with equal deliberation, as if to say he was not likely to be put off by a frown and harsh treatment. ‘Does a father need a reason to visit his son?’

  Michael sighed, reminding himself that, now that he was beginning to know his father, he had vowed to be less of a thorn in the man’s side. ‘I suppose not. But that does not keep me from wondering.’

  Solomon pulled a sheaf of papers from his pocket and set them on the table between them. ‘A few pages need your signature, if we are to finalise the details of your annuity.’

  ‘I have told you before, this is not necessary,’ he reminded the man. All the same, he took the papers, scanning the pages and raising his eyebrows at the amount described.

  ‘Of course not. But that does not mean you might not want it in the future.’ Solomon shrugged. ‘I simply want to give you the freedom to do whatever you want. If you do not need the money, put it in trust for my grandchildren.’

  ‘You will have no grandchildren because I never plan to marry,’ he said. Then he remembered that there was a chance that he might be less than nine months from fatherhood. He had promised that he would not leave a bastard behind. But in a moment’s anger he might have done just that.

  Solomon tapped his knee and nodded. ‘You cannot know what will occur in the future. When you meet the right woman and fall in love...’

  Michael laughed. ‘I have no intention of falling in love with anyone.’

  ‘Your mother has told me of your peculiar aversion to it.’ Solomon smiled. ‘She says you are independent to the point of stubbornness and solitary long after a man should be settling down. She says that you insist you will not marry, since you have no faith in the emotions behind such bonds.’

  ‘Love is nothing more than a fairy story told to children,’ he said, knowing that this was a weak excuse to explain what he felt.

  ‘Because your mother told you of it?’ he said, arching an eyebrow.

  ‘She...’ He stopped. She had told him of the enduring power of true love. And it appeared that in her case it was true.

  Solomon ignored his pause. ‘As I said before, if you do decide to marry, surely it will be better to have a name and family to impress the family of your betrothed,’ the man said in a coaxing tone. ‘The Solomons are not the best family in England, but neither is there anything particularly objectionable about them. With the addition of my fortune, there are few who would turn up their noses if you wished to make a match.’

  ‘I do not wish to match with anyone. And I certainly do not care what Liv’s brother thinks of me,’ he announced.

  Solomon arched an eyebrow. ‘Rejected already, eh?’

  ‘It had not progressed to an offer,’ he admitted, wondering why he was confiding in his father. Then he added, ‘I do not think the lady’s affections were as firmly fixed as...’

  As mine were.

  ‘As they could have been,’ he finished, embarrassed at what he had almost admitted.

  ‘And because this woman broke your heart, you have vowed never to marry. Perhaps you have given up too soon,’ Solomon replied. ‘Present yourself to the girl again. Inform her of your change in circumstances and see if it makes a difference.’

  ‘If it did, it would only prove to me that she could not love me for myself,’ Michael said, embarrassed that he would share such a fear with a man he barely knew.

  ‘She cast you off?’ Solomon said with a thoughtful look.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Michael said, remembering how it had ended between them. He had not given her a chance to do so. He had been too quick to do the thing himself.

  ‘If you are at fault for the breach, you should do what you can to mend it,’ Solomon said. ‘If it is love, then all will be right again, just as it is between myself and your mother.’

  And that was another thing he did not understand. ‘How did you know, when you found her, that my mother would still be waiting for you?’

  ‘For the same reason that I waited,’ he said with a fond smile. ‘The bond we had was unbreakable. That is what it means to love.’

  If that were true, Liv would be waiting for him to come back, and would continue to wait, even though he might never return. And he had been too cowardly to give her any hope. But now he was likely banned from the house, the same way Clement had been.

  There was a knock on the door, and the sound of the maid speaking to someone in tones of surprise. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and reached for the brandy bottle, in no mood to deal with whatever it was that elicited such a response.

  ‘It might be good news,’ his father suggested, eyeing the bottle in disapproval.

  ‘Even if it is, it is probably nothing I want to hear,’ he replied.

  The housekeeper appeared in the doorway to the sitting room holding a wicker hamper that seemed to rock in her arms as if it had a life of its own. She held it out to him. ‘The maid who delivered it said you would know who it had come from.’

  As she spoke, a small black nose appeared over the top of the wicker, snuffling industriously in his direction as if it were possible to read ev
erything about him from the scent on the air. Then the small canine head that it belonged to was revealed, the bug eyes of Caesar the pug like two black marbles staring at him, his fat front paws hanging over the basket’s rim. There was an awkward lunge as the housekeeper struggled to keep control and the little dog half jumped, half spilled onto the floor, scrambling forward to sniff his boot.

  He sighed. ‘Yes, I know where it came from.’ But he was less sure as to why. ‘Was there a note of any kind?’

  The servant shook her head.

  Liv had wanted him to take her dogs if she was unable to care for them. Had she left her brother’s house? But why would she give him only one dog? Was this meant as some sort of consolation? Was it an invitation? An apology? Without meaning to, he was attaching all sorts of meaning to the little animal, hoping that it was a sign there might be a future between them, even after what he had said to her.

  Perhaps it was just a sign that Cleo had delivered her pups and she had too many dogs and was giving them to whoever she could think of to prevent the footmen from drowning them.

  ‘A gift from the lady we have been discussing?’ his father asked.

  He nodded. ‘But I have no idea what it means.’

  Then the dog hunched, opened its mouth and retched up a soggy lump of torn paper.

  ‘It appears she did write to you,’ his father said, staring down at his feet.

  He nodded. Of course the message was now unintelligible. But it was something to know it had been done. ‘Caesar has a reputation for being a very bad dog,’ he said, staring down at the little fellow. ‘Perhaps she would have been better off sending Cleopatra.’

  At the mention of his mate, the dog’s ears pricked up.

  ‘Who is Cleopatra?’ his father asked.

  Now, the dog was trotting around the room, sniffing under chairs in search of her, ending with a careful search of his own basket, as if forgetting that he had arrived alone. He looked up at Michael, confused, then raised his head and made a sound that was an ungodly cross between a growl and a screech. He stopped long enough to make another circuit of the room and then howled again, clearly distressed.