A man who had not protected her.
Perhaps he and Evangeline had missed their chance. It might be better for all concerned if they acted like grown-ups and admitted that their time had passed. It was too late for them. What they’d once shared was over. Five years was a long time.
You remember every minute of your time with her as if it were yesterday.
He lay back and closed his eyes, a sigh escaping at his cowardice. A small voice echoed in his head, saying that it was never too late.
Marriage to Evangeline would be more pleasurable than marriage to Claire.
Her son was a problem in this plan. He didn’t know if he could be a father to Viscount Stuart’s son. If the boy took after his mother, it would be easier. He didn’t even know the boy’s name. Jealousy, deep and poisonous, seeped into his blood. It was too painful to face the fact that the boy should have been theirs. The warmth of the bathwater faded as the impact of Evangeline’s return hit home. Already she had him tied up in knots when he should be focusing on De Palma.
With another sigh he pushed the issue of Evangeline from his mind. De Palma had tried to kill him last night. All his energy should be focused on staying alive and putting an end to this deranged woman.
Evangeline was a distraction he didn’t need right now. If he didn’t keep his wits about him, he could end up dead.
If Arend’s hunch that Victoria was their villainess was right, was Isobel involved? Arend had said very little recently about Victoria’s stepdaughter, yet Hadley knew Arend was spending considerable time with the young woman. Arend would use anyone to find out what he needed to know. Hadley felt a tad sorry for Isobel.
And God help her if she was part of her stepmother’s plot.
Harper, his valet, knocked on the bathing room door. “My lord, His Grace is below.”
Hadley rose slowly from the tub, exhaustion beckoning. “Augustus is in town? When did he arrive? Never mind. Tell Thurston to show him into the breakfast room while I dress. And ask Cook—”
“Already taken care of. Breakfast is waiting for you. I’ve taken the liberty of laying out your clothes too.”
“Thank you. Inform my brother I’ll be down shortly.”
He wondered what Augustus wanted. He hoped his brother hadn’t got himself into trouble. Arend was due soon. It was very unlike Augustus to drive all night to reach town this early. Usually Augustus led life at a leisurely pace. He didn’t put himself out for anyone but himself.
—
By the time Hadley reached the breakfast room, Augustus was already partaking of a plate of food. He didn’t even look up as Hadley helped himself from the sideboard and sat down.
“You know, you really should have been the firstborn.”
At Augustus’s words he realized he’d sat at the head of the table. He usually did because Augustus rarely came to town. He hadn’t asked for this quasi-position, but someone had to be in charge, and Augustus simply wasn’t interested.
His Grace took after their mother: fair-haired, small of stature, quiet, and withdrawn. He did look the picture of a self-assured duke, always immaculately dressed in the height of fashion, always refusing to get his hands dirty with any menial task. Rather than hunt or box or fence, he preferred reading, music, and of all things, fashion, like a spoiled fop.
Since their father’s death, Hadley had assumed control of the family and estates. If he had not, the family would no doubt be in ruins. Augustus had no head for business or estate planning. Furthermore, he refused to take his seat in the House of Lords, saying politics gave him a headache. He was quite happy for Hadley to do everything.
Hadley saw beneath his brother’s façade of an indulgent duke to the heart of a man who wished he were anyone other than the Duke of Claymore. Augustus hated the responsibility, the required decision making, and the attention that came with his title. He’d told Hadley that if he could renounce his title, he would. He’d also sworn to never marry, so that the title would go to Hadley. So far he’d kept to that vow.
Instead Augustus stayed at the estate in Cornwall doing…Hadley didn’t know what exactly. Augustus was his mother’s favorite, and he preferred her company to anyone else’s, even Hadley’s.
Hadley was very much the image of his late father: tall, broad-shouldered, brown-haired, and, most of all, determined to enjoy life. He thrived on challenges, and was happy to take over the running of the estates from Augustus. At least then he knew his mother, sisters, and Augustus would be comfortable, and the family money would be protected.
The Libertine Scholars called Hadley “the invisible duke.” No one besides them and Augustus knew that he basically ran the Claymore estates and family holdings.
Their father had named his firstborn son Augustus, meaning “majestic.” But poor Augustus had not lived up to the name in his father’s eyes. From an early age their father had made Augustus’s life a living hell, always saying he wished Augustus had died as a baby so that Hadley would be his heir. Sometimes it crossed Hadley’s mind that their father had purposely treated Augustus in a manner that put his frail life in danger. It was probably Augustus’s proudest achievement that he’d managed to outlive their father.
Hadley couldn’t remember how old he’d been when he began having to protect Augustus. Originally he’d protected him from their father, taking the birching for any prank gone wrong. Then he protected Augustus from the other children on the estate, and then from the bullies at Eton, who loved picking on the weakest boys. He’d vowed that no one would pick on his brother if he was around.
Looking out for his older brother became their way. Augustus, at thirty-one a year older than Hadley, still expected his brother to drop everything and do anything to help, as well as to generally make Augustus’s life easier.
Hadley had protected Augustus all his life, and he would continue to do so as long as he lived. He hated how the strong picked on the weak. That was the one thing he admired about his brother. Now that he was a duke, he could have wreaked vengeance on those who at school had made his life hell. But he didn’t. He chose to ignore them and live simply, quietly, and with dignity at his estate, where he was happiest.
Hadley cursed under his breath. He should not have sat at the head of the table. But the fact that Augustus hadn’t taken the chair spoke volumes about how he saw himself. His brother might hold the title of duke, but he was only the figurehead.
“It’s merely a chair.” Hadley’s words rang false. Nothing was “merely” where the ton was concerned. Augustus didn’t make a fuss, and waved his hand to indicate that Hadley should stay seated where he was.
Hadley decided to change the subject. “Is everything all right? Why the rush to town?”
Augustus looked amused. “I didn’t rush to town. I came up two days ago. I just didn’t stay here,” he said, then continued eating.
A duke who chose not to stay in his own house? Hell, Augustus was getting worse. Soon the ton would begin to wonder who was head of this family, and that could be awkward. Perhaps De Palma was targeting Hadley not just because he looked like their father but because she knew he was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Claymore family. Without him all would be lost, or at least would run to a loss. “Perhaps, when you are in town, it would be more appropriate to stay here. It is, after all, your house through entail. Where were you staying?”
“With a friend. I do have some, you know.”
His brother was a secretive sod. Hadley’s suspicions soared, but he would play his brother’s game. “Well, it’s good to see you. How are Mother and the girls?”
“They miss you.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And they are all looking forward to the announcement of your betrothal, and of course helping Claire plan the wedding.”
Hadley put down his knife and fork. “I thought we were telling no one until I spoke to Claire. The bride should not be the last to hear that she is getting married. I have not sanctioned any formal announcement as yet.”
“Why isn’t she hounding you about your wedding?” Hadley countered.
“She is. But you and I both know I do not wish to marry. I’d never force any son of mine into this role. Your son would be more suited to it.”
How convenient, Hadley thought as anger sizzled within him. His brother had come to town for one thing only—to ensure he married Claire. Suddenly he was sick of having to constantly be his brother’s protector, advisor, manager—he felt more like a father than a brother. “We may have to hold off on the announcement.”
He watched Augustus use his napkin to pat his mouth. He didn’t speak until the napkin was back on the table, all neatly folded.
“I did wonder if the return of Lady Evangeline—Stuart, it is now, isn’t it?—would make you reconsider our agreement.” He looked Hadley in the eye. “However, if I recall, she ripped your heart from your chest five years ago. Why would you give her the time of day?”
“There may have been more to her marriage to Viscount Stuart than I thought.”
“May? You still don’t know?” Augustus sat back in his chair. “Yet she’s been in this house, I have heard.”
The staff had been gossiping. Not their fault—it was hard to deny a duke.
“Two years ago, when you came to me with this idea that I marry Lady Claire, it seemed sensible at the time. I thought an arranged match a prudent way to find a wife.” Hadley didn’t add that it seemed ideal to have a wife who could never own or break his heart. “And you wanted to help your friend Richard Hampton, the Marquis of Corby, find a match for a sister who had no dowry and was, let’s face it, a definite wallflower. It suited us all.”
“It still suits us all,” his brother interjected.
Hadley pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. “I’m having doubts. Evangeline may be innocent—”
“You agreed that if Claire was still unmarried when you reached your thirtieth year, you’d propose. I gave you that time, as promised.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I did agree, true. But hell, Aug, what if she didn’t leave me of her own free will? That changes everything.” His hand slammed the table, making the cutlery rattle. “If her story is true, I owe her whatever she desires. I didn’t protect her, you see. I couldn’t live knowing I’d let her be abducted, kept as a virtual prisoner. Think on it.”
Augustus waited for the crockery to stop rattling before saying, “If you renege, it will put me in a very embarrassing position. Corby is my closest friend.”
“We can find some other way to help Corby and his sister. I don’t understand why Richard is so insistent that I marry Claire. Surely he’d prefer her to marry a duke.” In recent months Hadley had more and more come to wonder why the marquis had, in fact, preferred a second son as a husband for his sister, rather than a duke; it did not make sense. At the time he’d made the agreement, however, he had been so heartbroken that he hadn’t thought to ask the right questions.
“As I said, he’s my friend, and he knows Claire is not duchess material. She would buckle under the role.”
Augustus himself would have bloody buckled under the role of duke. In that, Hadley thought wryly, Augustus and Claire would be well suited.
Hadley wasn’t about to be forced into a marriage he no longer wanted. Until he knew the truth regarding Evangeline, he would not wed another. If he had a real chance at happiness, then he wanted it—wanted it so badly he could almost taste it.
“I’ve done more than enough for this family, and for you, over the years. I’ve protected you, managed the estates for you, and increased our family’s wealth. You could at least support me in this. Give me a chance to see if there is something there with Evangeline. It’s not going to end your friendship with Richard if I decide to pull out. I’ll even help you find an alternative groom. Claire won’t be hurt, as she has no idea what we have planned—or at least I hope not.”
“Claire doesn’t know yet. Just as well, as it turns out.” Augustus had the decency to look sheepish. “It’s true you have been a very good brother to me. You did protect me from the wrath of Father and others.”
Hadley sighed. “Look, nothing is certain yet. I still have to hear Evangeline’s version of events. I need time to think. I have to decide what I want, and I also must do what is right. We still have three weeks until we have to make any decision.”
Augustus gave him a silent look that Hadley could not interpret. He had always found it hard to read his brother; Augustus always seemed as if he held secrets. And it had always annoyed Hadley that Augustus could shield his thoughts so successfully even though he could not protect himself physically.
Before Augustus could respond, Arend sauntered in.
“Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t wait to be announced, as I didn’t know His Grace was in town.”
Augustus waved away the unintentional slight. “No apology necessary. It’s a pleasure to see you, Arend.” He stood up. “I was just leaving. Hadley, we will talk later, yes?”
Hadley merely nodded.
Augustus smiled at the two men before leaving the room.
“What did His Grace want?” Arend asked as he helped himself to a plate of food.
“Who says he wanted anything?”
“He never comes to town unless he has to.”
That was true. Augustus had said he’d been staying with a friend; had he really? Or did Augustus not wish him to know he’d rushed up to town? And why was it so important that he marry Claire? Surely the Marquis of Corby could find another suitor. In the ton money talked, and Augustus had plenty to help his friend. Why did it have to be Hadley?
“He wanted to talk with me about Claire.”
Arend laughed. “I don’t understand why Augustus is so set on the match. You could do so much better than a mousy wallflower.”
Arend’s thoughts mirrored his own. Annoyance dug under his skin. Why was Augustus so set on the match?
With a sigh, Hadley changed the subject. “Aren’t you here to discuss a plan to unmask Victoria?”
Arend gave a sly smile. “Too little sleep, I see. Or is it Lady Evangeline that’s turned you into a grump this morning?”
“I have been up all night. But it’s more that I’m sick of people poking their noses into my business.”
“Evangeline is a beautiful problem to have, though.”
“And a useful one. She thinks her husband may have included information on Victoria in his journals. Apparently he wasn’t too happy at her unexpected marriage to his friend Lord Northumberland. He began digging into her background.”
“How did the viscount die?”
Hadley’s head snapped up like a whip. “He was killed by highwaymen—supposedly.”
Excitement lit Arend’s eyes. “Eat up. We need to visit Lady Evangeline immediately so that can we see the journals.”
“One small problem: she’s not very happy with me and won’t let me view them. She’ll let us know if she finds anything.”
“Damn it. That’s awkward.” Arend gestured with his fork. “Well, you’ll just have to grovel and get back in her good graces.”
“You can be such a prick at times.”
Arend nodded as he chewed. He swallowed before saying, “I will have to try something different, then, while you grow some bottle. I have an idea on how to expose Victoria.”
“One day I hope a woman does a job on you. Then we shall see who has bottle and who has not.” When Arend said nothing more, he added, “Care to share this plan?”
Arend began outlining what they could do.
Chapter 5
Her shoulder ached, and because Hadley had pulled her to the ground, every limb felt as if a tree had fallen on it. Last night she’d been in more pain than she would admit, especially to Hadley. The guilt etched upon his face was more than she could bear. He blamed himself, yet her injury had been out of
his control.
She gave a wan smile. He had tried to protect her. That should mean something. But, as she recalled, Hadley protected everyone.
Why, then, had he not protected her five years ago? Her heart refused to believe it was because he didn’t care. She could see how much he cared when she was shot. The look on his face…
Her stomach clenched tight, facing the knowledge that if she had not accompanied him home, Hadley would never have bent down at the moment the shot was fired. He’d be dead. Accompanying him home had saved his life.
Her head swam, and she lay back upon her pillow.
Someone wanted to kill him.
Rachel, her lady’s maid, had fussed over her when they’d carried her into her room in the early hours of the morning, but she’d managed to sleep for about four hours before Sealey could no longer be kept away.
He’d barged into her room before she could hide the bandages. He’d been frightened by her injury. Losing Dougal had been his introduction to death, and given his young age, the little boy was petrified that he’d lose her too.
She stroked the silky curls on her little boy’s head as he slept beside her. She’d finally managed to get him to cuddle down and doze, but even though she was still tired and sore, sleep eluded her.
Her first meeting with Hadley had not gone as she’d expected—or, indeed, hoped. It seemed that five years apart had changed him more than it had changed her. Given his story about receiving a letter purportedly from her, she could understand why.
It wasn’t the pain of her gunshot wound that filled her eyes with tears. It was the fact he had believed a piece of paper over everything they’d shared and done. She’d given him her heart, her body, and her soul, but he’d simply taken the words on a piece of paper and forgotten her. Forgotten who she was.
Plus, when she’d told him it was a forgery, he’d not believed her. If he’d truly known her, understood her, loved her, he should have believed her.
She wasn’t naive enough to think that their relationship could be as it was before. Both of them had been changed by what life had thrown at them, but to call her character into question…
A Taste of Seduction Page 7
