Her words resonated within the room. Her earlier hysteria was replaced with an utter wretchedness. Silence returned.
He sighed deeply. “Then I ask only if it will interfere with my mission. That I have to know, Eloise.”
Slowly, she shook her head. “Non, non.”
She stood. She had to get out of his grasp. She couldn’t think with him so near, but he rose with her. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her within his gaze.
“You have to believe I don’t want to hurt you, Eloise,” he said gently. “It is not my intent. If you say it is in the past and will not interfere with my mission, I will never mention it again.”
Silent tears fell down her cheek. Swallowing hard, she said in a low voice, no louder than a whisper, “He is dead, monsieur. Dead for many years. When my father and brother brought me over, it was for that reason. I don’t even know all the details of their venture over to get moi. Only…they came and the years of my father’s denial I was his legitimate daughter dissipated.”
His hand caressed her cheek and embraced her tighter.
“I don’t want your sympathy,” she said faintly. “Nor your forgiveness.”
“You misunderstand me, Eloise. I don’t feel sympathy for you. No, it’s not sympathy.” He pushed back her hair from her face, his voice quiet and calm. “It is far from what I feel for you. I misspoke before. The word I should have used is fascinate. You fascinate me, my lady.”
“I doubt…”
“Ssh,” he said. “I don’t know the life you led before we met. I have heard the rumors, but I also know your brother. His Grace is a man who takes great pride in his family. He cares greatly for you, as is evident in the whole of your family. Before he consented to this marriage, he made me give my word that I would care for you and try to make you happy. I gave him my word and I will hold to it.”
“My brother doesn’t know all…”
“And I’m telling you it matters only to me the present. Now,” he gave her a small smile, “my lady, I need only to know whether it will interfere with my plan to rescue my children. That is all. I need you to tell me the truth.”
“The truth, monsieur. The truth? I doubt it. You want only to use it against me. What more do you want from me? You threaten my family and now expect me to…”
“Stop. You know now my reason for the threat.”
“You would not hold to it.”
He hesitated, but for a moment only. “If you want honesty, Lady Eloise, I will be blunt. I will do what I have to do to ensure my children’s safety. I protect my family at all cost.” He reached over and caressed her face. “Which in the morn, you will be also. Nothing you have said has changed my mind on the notion of taking you for my wife.”
“I do not know what you want me to say, my lord. I can be no less candid with my words. In my life, I have been taught a woman is born and raised to honor her husband and family. There are consequences to such unbecoming behavior.
“I have seen such consequences. One of the girls from my convent, Adele Baptiste, married Baron de Cenviere. To ensure all knew of her purity, the stained bedsheets were hung out the window. To ensure I understood the significance of such an action, I was taken by carriage to see the sight.”
“That might have been custom in some provinces in France, but not here.”
“Ah, monsieur. You did not let me finish. The week before, the daughter of the Count de Valmie, Celine, had been caught with her lover, a young handsome lawyer from Riems. A commoner, no less. She…she was given a lettres de cachet, banished to a life in a convent with no hope of outside world ever again. Then…” She paused. Refusing to let the water welling in her eyes betray her weakness, she breathed out in a deep manner.
She was taken back to the time when she had been forced to watch the display of inhuman cruelty deemed necessary by the all-powerful de Mortiere family. How she hated the man even in death.
The face. She could never forget his face as the torture was inflicted upon him. Given no chance to defend himself. Stripped of his clothing. His bones broken by an iron bar hammered against his arms, legs, thighs. His screams pierced through the air when he was tied to the wheel. He howled in pain and begged for death. She could not cry for mercy, only watch the horror. Then there was silence…
“Do you think I would dishonor you?” Lord Lenister’s voice brought her back to the present.
“Some would say I’m not worthy of you, my lord,” she uttered in complete disbelief that she had divulged dark secrets she kept within her. Not all, oh, no not all…
“Tell me who, Lady Eloise. Who would question the Earl of Lenister? The Duke of Rotheward?”
Fleetingly, the thought occurred to her to confess all to the man before her. Would he feel the same? But the reality of the world around her was it was not only herself that her words could damage.
Instead, she said, “I fear you are making a grave mistake, my lord.”
“It will be mine, not yours,” he said. “It grieves me to have distressed you. It was not my intention.”
To her surprise, Lenister pulled her into his shoulders. She didn't resist, but allowed him to comfort her. "Eloise, do you know... " He paused as if searching for words. "Don't be afraid of me. I know you have had much pressed on you in a short time and you believe that I’m marrying you only for a purpose beyond your control, but when I return, Eloise, I believe we can have a successful marriage. Truly.” He reached to the box again. “Here, try them on and see how they look.”
He placed the pearls around her neck and clasped them. Her hand rose and touched them. The strands fell against her bare skin. They felt like nothing she ever had worn before. She had never received a gift such as this, or any gift except for small tokens. Her fingers played with them. She loved them and she was touched by his sentiment.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I…I don’t have anything for you…”
“I take pleasure in your gratification.” His hands touched the pearls, touching her bare neck, caressing it.
She tilted her head slightly, just enough so she could meet his eyes. His hand swept back the pearls and fallen tresses of hair. The next moment, she felt his lips on her skin, finding her most sensitive spot. A sensation awakened within her surging…pulsating.
“Ah, my beautiful Eloise,” he said in a whisper against her skin. “I do believe now I will depart or I will find I cannot. Until the morrow, my dear.”
She watched him depart through her secret door, leaving her lost in her thoughts, unsure of what to do.
* * * *
It was done. Lady Eloise D’Arcy Granville married Lord Gerard Benedict Ashwin, Earl of Lenister, in a simple ceremony performed by the vicar who lived on the estate. Edmund had made the occasion as festive as possible in the short time allotted. An abundance of flowers filled the chapel, making up for the lack of those in attendance. Only a few—Edmund, Lenister’s friend, Seamus, and Jemma—witnessed the occasion.
Eloise stood before the altar and recited her vows with an overwhelming sense of fatality. Lenister said the words required of him in a resolute voice, confident in his course of actions. He smiled at her as he put the ring on her hand. When the vicar pronounced them husband and wife, Lenister took her hand in his. They walked out of the chapel as such, hand in hand in the bright sunshine.
By late afternoon, Eloise stood alone by the drawing room’s window, watching everyone depart. All had gone in one direction or another. Edmund, with great reluctance, returned to London with pressing business he had long ignored. Apologies lay on his lips for the hurried ceremony.
“I will have to endure the wrath of my wife and Cousin Beatrice for not including them in these festivities. I hope you, Eloise, understand the reason for the necessity of such. Not that I believe that you would ever wish for a ceremony such as Susanna’s.”
“I’m fine, brother,” Eloise said.
She understood much more than he realized. She said nothing, but comprehended his actions p
rotected his family against any repercussions to the actions of this day. She found no fault, only a pain that she was once more expendable. Had she not lived under an illusion these last few years? It had been her fear.
Her new husband left shortly after Edmund. Meetings in Dover necessitated his exit. Time was of the essence. She had heard whispers of his departure set within three days, but nothing had been told to her directly.
"I do apologize, my lady, for pressing for our marriage so quickly. Upon my return from France, if you so desire, I will hold the largest reception for our announcement.”
"It will not be necessary. I don't need such attention."
"Ah, but are you to deny me an opportunity to show off my lovely bride?" He leaned down and kissed her. He whispered in her ear, "I do have a private celebration planned tonight that I assure you I will return promptly. Give me a moment in Dover and then my attention will be solely upon you."
“I will be prepared, my lord."
From her view, Lenister tethered his horse and waved to her. She waved back. Suddenly, sadness overwhelmed her as she watched him ride out of sight. Her husband… She bit her lip, imagining for a brief moment a life with him. I can't think that way, she reprimanded herself. I can't. But she could no longer deny to herself that she wished she was the person they thought. She wished with everything in her, she was Lady Eloise Granville Lenister.
* * * *
Lord Gerard Lenister finished his tasks earlier than he anticipated, to his great delight. With haste, he returned to Height Point, quite satisfied with all the arrangements. Now his attention could lie with his bride, at least for a couple of days, before he departed.
Lenister had not lied to Eloise. She fascinated him beyond reason. She also surprised him. With only the mention that the children were his, she accepted his reason much like there was no issue to his actions. She asked no questions pertaining to his children. Though he doubted seriously it was proper for a husband to talk of bastard children to his wife.
She wanted only to delay the wedding, which had been in vain. With as much as she revealed about herself last night, more questions arose which lay with his ability to read people. She held many secrets. That he had no doubt. Yet the one question he held she answered. If any could help him rescue his children, she would.
Dismounting in front of the entrance, a servant immediately took his horse. He half expected Eloise to greet him at the door or perhaps he had hoped. Instead, he entered into a quiet manor.
Handing his hat and coat to the butler, he asked, “Lady Eloise, is she resting?”
“No, my lord. My lady is taking a walk along the beach.”
He hoped he contained any visible signs of relief. For a brief moment, he feared she had disappeared. “If you would show me the way…”
“But of course, my lord.”
Shortly, he excused his escort when he caught sight of his bride. Lord, help him. She looked breathtaking, walking with her hair escaping in the sea breeze. The water seemed to reflect off her, giving her an aura around her. If nothing else, any thoughts of delaying consummating his marriage dissipated. He did not want to. Nor did she expect him to…
She seemed engrossed in her thoughts. She had not looked up at him as he approached. How different she was from Miranda, not only in her dark looks, but her manners. Eloise had been born into status and seemed uncomfortable with her position. Miranda desperately wanted to be seen as a lady with position. So much so, it may have cost her life. He hoped only it didn’t cost his children theirs.
If only Miranda had been patient…if only she loved him as she professed she had…then now she would have what she so desired. How naïve he had been when he played the white knight to her damsel in distress.
He had loved Miranda from the time he returned from the Colonies. Her father, Colonel Ralston, had been as a father to him in the service. In the two years he had been across the ocean, she blossomed into an undeniable beauty, but she wanted more than a simple lieutenant in His Majesty's service. She chose instead the second son to the Marquess of Caithess, one who chose the cloth as his profession. A cold man who had buried two wives before Miranda.
Miranda gave it little thought, only to the position it held. Until reality crept in. The vicar, no matter of his profession, was an abusive man with certain vices that no one should ever have to endure. Miranda had no other recourse but to turn to Lenister. Worried she would become the third wife the vicar buried, Lenister swept her away to the West Indies with him on his next assignment.
With the colonel’s blessing, for he, too, worried for his only child. At first incredibly happy, boredom set in after the birth of their children. Lenister discovered Miranda lacked basic maternal instincts. By the time Darcy was born, her eyes began to wander. Rumors of her activities inundated him upon his returns from his assignments. Her attention waned by his absences.
During this time, news came of the vicar’s death, having fallen victim of an accident. From Colonel Ralston’s account, Lenister gathered it was a vengeful father of one of his victims. To the public, it was an accident, but Miranda was now free to marry.
Free to marry...but he did not marry her and Miranda never forgave him. Not that he thought she would have married him. It was well before the thought he would inherit his title, but she wanted him to beg her. At one time, he worshipped the ground she walked on, but by the time she was freed, she had destroyed any warmth he held toward her.
After returning from an assignment, Lenister was not surprised to find Miranda had run off with a wealthy comte from France whose ship had taken refuge in his port of call. But he was stunned to discover she had taken the children with her. Of all he held precious to him, his children…his beloved children. The reason he survived his missions at times was the thought of their faces. Revenge. Pure and simple revenge to teach him what he gave up, he thought harshly.
Taking his children to a foreign country, the enemy…now they were in unimaginable danger.
“Lord Lenister.”
A smile emerged on his face on her recognition of his approach. “Lady Lenister.”
With ease, she returned his smile, which seemed only to add to her luminance. Standing close to the water’s edge, the waves brought the water over her feet, her bare feet. Only then did he notice her slippers in her hand.
“Perhaps I should have taken the liberty of removing my boots before a walk along the beach.”
“Pray forgive me, my lord. I do so without a thought. If it is your wish…”
“No, I find it liberating. You walk often along the beach?”
She gave him a slight nod and looked back toward the water. She pointed out across the deep blue ocean. “On a clear day you can see the coastline.”
“Your home,” he said simply. “Do you miss it?”
“It was home. No matter what has happened, it was where I was raised. A part of me will always be there.”
He reached his hand out and took hers. “Come. Let’s walk. I’ll tell you about your new home, Ashforth Manor. You should know something about it before you depart.”
“Now? I’m to go now?” Eloise looked at him blankly.
“After I leave, it is my wish you withdraw back to my estate. I wrote Anne to expect you. I have arranged transportation with your maid and an escort. I would have rather shown you myself, but hopefully I’ll return soon.”
“Can I not wait here, my lord?”
"I would prefer that you withdraw back to Ashforth Manor. I believe you will find comfort. Anne will see that you are set. You will find she is quite a lovely person. You have nothing to fear. You can bring along any you so choose, if you like. Lady Marichone, perhaps."
"Perhaps, my lord," she said, pressing her lips together tightly. "But I would feel better here, a semblance of my home. The ocean..."
"Married only hours and my bride already questions my decision?"
Her eyes met his, flaring at his utterance. Ah, he read well she was used to getting he
r way. He returned her glare with a smile. He reached for her, embracing her so his grasp controlled her.
"Come, Lady Lenister. I do not feel the need to argue today. We have so little time before I depart. Is it too much to ask that I have one less worry upon me when I leave?"
He gave her no time to answer. His lips claimed hers. Feeling no resistance, he kissed her again. Harder this time. More demanding. More aggressive. He broke from her or in the next moment he would have taken her there on the beach. He caressed her face, pushing back her windblown hair. He said nothing. He took her hand and led her back to the manor.
* * * *
Lenister waited only for Eloise to have time to bathe. The dinner he had planned would wait, for he could not. This night there was no need for a clandestine meeting. The vows spoken earlier in the day gave him this right. Taking only the bottle of wine and two glasses, he entered into the secret passage that led to her room rather than walk down the hall.
Straightway, he sensed their relationship would bode well, for she expected him. The hidden entrance lay open. A fire burned, casting shadows against the closed window drapes. Candles lit the room, irradiating the sight before him. Immediately, a hard arousal hit him, concealed only by the robe he wore.
The firelight bathed his beautiful bride in her sheer, transparent gown. She stood by the corner of the four-poster bed with her hand holding on to one of the posts of the bed. Inviting. Erotic. The light illuminated her body beneath the thin, light material. Her legs, her hips, even her dark nipples pressing against the fabric, became discernible. Her glossy black hair fell down her back to her hips. The candlelight accented her creamy skin, delicate nose, her vivid blue eyes…The reservations she held about their marriage had not carried over to their marriage bed. She greeted him with the loveliest of smiles.
Restraining himself from striding over and taking her without further ado, he stepped slowly toward her, placing the wine and glasses down on the table beside her.
“You look very beautiful, Eloise.”
Broken Legacy (Secret Lives Series) Page 5
