by Mary Brendan
Dawn rose abruptly. She had been congratulating herself for managing to keep things simple and friendly between them despite her heart having flipped at the sight of him. ‘I’ve not offered you refreshment,’ she blurted out. ‘Will you have some tea?’
Jack was also on his feet and reached her in one stride, gripping the tops of her slender arms and holding her still as she would have slipped away. ‘Please don’t try to avoid this. You know very well how I feel about you.’
‘I’m afraid you are wrong about that, sir,’ Dawn retorted, attempting to wrest herself free of him. ‘My recollection is that our romantic attachment ended long ago. You went abroad and when you did not return I got married. And you are now betrothed to Miss Snow and I wish you both well for the future.’
He abruptly released her and turned his back to her. His coarse laugh preceded, ‘Do you think I’d be here if I really believed that to be true? You don’t wish me well. You wish I’d come back when I said I would.’
‘Perhaps. But that is all over with now.’ So she hadn’t fooled him with her martyred speech, neither had she really wanted to. She was glad he understood he’d let her down. And in case he didn’t, well she’d add something else to make sure of it. ‘You did not write, as you said you would, or come back, as you said you would.’ Her accusation made him swing to face her, but she put distance between them this time. Mentioning his betrayal had brought back bitter memories that were making her feel tempted to lash out and hurt him as he’d hurt her.
Thomas Fenton had never known she’d married him on the rebound and pining for a lost love. There were things they never spoke of; she imagined he wouldn’t have been interested in knowing about it anyway. After all, he, too, had been pining for his lost love though he rarely mentioned her. Eleanor had been the one to tell Dawn about her mother.
Thomas had deserved her respect and loyalty as he had given those things to her. It was the least they could do for one another to make up for the lack of real emotion in their marriage. She had wanted to be a perfect wife...but she hadn’t been, any more than Thomas had been a perfect husband. Locked in her heart had been the image of this man. And now she was feeling guilty and a fool; she wasn’t sure that Jack Valance had ever been worthy of such blind devotion. She wasn’t sure whether she had really ever known him at all.
‘Oh, I did come back...but I was too late.’ Jack kept his tone level; there was nothing to be gained from blame or regrets. Yet...had she waited just a little longer...kept faith in him...
‘What?’ Dawn gasped.
He turned to face her, an abrupt gesture displaying his frustration. ‘I was far too late. Lance wrote and told me that you were to be married. By the time I got the letter in Tangier about a year had elapsed. I knew it was a fool’s errand, but I came back anyway. I saw you with him. You looked happy together.’
Dawn closed her eyes, momentarily speechless with shock and anguish. But how could she have guessed at any of it? ‘Don’t make me out to be the culprit in this. If you were delayed, why did you not write and explain?’ she cried. ‘A single sentence asking me to wait would have sufficed. I heard nothing from you before or after I was married.’ The sting in her tone came not only from sorrow, but from vexation now she knew how tantalising close she had been to having the man she’d really wanted.
‘Little point in writing once you became Mrs Fenton, was there?’ He sounded sarcastic. ‘Once I knew it was hopeless I went back to Tangier and took up where I’d left off.’
Dawn moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue, aware of his stormy grey eyes immediately drawn to the movement. ‘Tangier? What were you doing there?’ she demanded.
‘Trying to make money enough to approach your father for your hand in marriage without him laughing at me.’
‘My father would never have done that!’ Dawn sounded indignant on her father’s behalf. But her affluent stepmother would have had something to say about the match. Julia had refused to provide a dowry for her stepdaughter. Thomas Fenton had proposed knowing his bride could provide nothing but her services as a substitute mother to Eleanor.
‘Your father would have guffawed at my impertinence.’ Jack gave a cynical smile. ‘And I wouldn’t have blamed him. When I went away I had nothing other than a stack of unpaid debts and a reputation for being a wastrel.’
‘I didn’t think that of you,’ Dawn said earnestly. ‘I liked you very much.’
‘I know and I felt the same way about you.’ He raised a hand to cup her flushed cheek. ‘You were worth changing for, Dawn. And that’s what I did. I went abroad and I changed...acquired wealth and a title so I could come back and you’d be proud of me. And it was for nothing. I wish I’d stayed here and taken a chance on you agreeing to elope with me.’
Dawn was so overwhelmed by what he’d revealed that for a long moment she simply stared at him, their gazes inextricable. Finally she said quietly, honestly, ‘I wouldn’t have eloped and smeared my family with scandal.’
‘I guessed as much...that’s why I never suggested it.’ His hand dropped from her face to be plunged into his pocket.
‘But I was of an age to marry openly without my father’s consent.’
His frown hardened in dawning comprehension. ‘You would have gone against your father’s wishes and suffered scrimping and scraping, to be with me?’
‘I’d have done what I could to help us improve our lot,’ she replied flatly. ‘Surely that is what being married is all about: pulling together towards a good future as a couple?’
‘You would have moved from your father’s comfortable house to live in a poky room with me as my wife?’ He sounded unconvinced and his narrowed eyes never left her face though he prowled to and fro.
‘I expect so...’ Dawn abruptly turned away. His arrant disbelief was making her question her own answers. Had she spoken the truth? Would she have suffered deprivation for the man she loved? ‘What does it matter now?’ she cried in exasperation. ‘Why are we even talking about this when it is all too late?’ She marched away from him, feeling close to tears, wishing he’d not come and so thoroughly upset her equilibrium. Yet...she’d longed to see him and didn’t want him to leave so soon. But if he stayed, would he tell her what she yearned to hear? That he still loved her and wanted her to be his wife? If he were honest and decent, as she hoped he was, surely he couldn’t live a lie with Miss Snow knowing his heart wasn’t in it? Or had Jack Valance’s transformation to Lord Sterling changed him thoroughly? Was he arrogant enough to believe he could have his cake and eat it?
If they both calmed down they might have a chance to talk in an adult way about what might be done to put things right for everybody. A man of honour surely wouldn’t want his fiancée to know he didn’t love her and never would because he’d already given his heart. Or was she being woefully unsophisticated to still think that love and marriage went hand in hand? Well, if she was, it was too bad! Dawn knew she couldn’t change the person she was. And if he was different now...more callous and selfish...it would be as well to find out sooner rather than later. If he only truly cared about himself, it would help her to get over him to know about it.
‘Will you have some tea, sir? Lily will be back indoors in a moment and I know she would like to say hello.’
‘I don’t want any tea, thank you. And I didn’t come to play with your granddaughter...sweet though she is. I want a grown-up conversation with you.’
‘On that we are in complete accord,’ Dawn said quietly.
‘Good. I intend to start by saying what has needed to be said for many a long year. And I’ll begin with this. I’m glad I didn’t ask you to live like a pauper for my sake.’ He sounded controlled, if bitter. ‘It was worth fighting for something decent to give to you, even if the doing of it wasn’t as easy or as pleasant as I’d foolishly expected. I lost the race against time, and Thomas Fenton, but I kept my pride. I hope I still hav
e your good opinion, too.’ He frowned. ‘Had I not gone away and we’d started married life in straitened circumstances, the struggle would have driven a wedge between us eventually. You would have ended up despising me and that would have been impossible to bear.’
Dawn’s heart plummeted. So it seemed that even long ago when she’d fallen in love with him his ego had been his first love. And she hadn’t even realised it. ‘What you’ve just said proves how little you really understood me and how wrong it would have been for us to become husband and wife before we knew one another better. I would have waited longer for you had you asked me to. But you did not and we took different paths in life. And while we are having a grown-up conversation, sir, perhaps you would like to make a mention of the most important thing that you acquired while away on your travels. As well as your title and riches I believe you also gained a fiancée.’
He tipped back his head and cursed soundlessly at the ceiling. ‘Yes...I did.’
An ache gripped her ribs, making it hard for her to breathe. She had vainly hoped it might be a mistake...that the young woman who was his ward was just hoping to be his future wife and nothing had been properly agreed. But he had admitted it now. She clung to the chair back for support, feeling enervated. Fate had indeed been unkind to play such cruel games with them.
‘I believe you are also Miss Snow’s guardian as she is an orphan.’ She tried to keep her voice steady, but it seemed shrill to her own ears.
‘All of that is correct,’ he said distantly.
‘I see...’
‘No, you don’t see.’ He swung to face her. ‘You think me self-centred. You believe I have come here with little thought to the consequences for all involved. I have not. I have done my damnedest since we got back from Essex to put you from my mind. But I can’t.’ He gave a gruff laugh. ‘A hellhole of an Ottoman prison couldn’t bring me low. But you can, Dawn, it seems.’
‘You were in prison?’ she breathed.
‘I was captured and unable to do anything at all other than survive as best I could for many months.’
‘Is that why you couldn’t write to let me know where you were and when you might return?’
‘An enslaved man isn’t afforded such luxuries as pen and paper out there.’ He paused, then added with searing honesty, ‘I would have bartered my soul for a chance to contact you and beg you not to lose faith in me.’
Dawn’s face had whitened in shock and her green eyes glowed with spontaneous tears. ‘I’m so very sorry. I had no idea of what you’d been through,’ she whispered. She imagined he had suffered dreadfully.
‘I know and I wish I had kept it that way.’ He swiped a hand across his mouth in regret. ‘I shouldn’t have told you about it and upset you. I’m not after sympathy. And I don’t blame you for giving up on waiting for me. I’m glad Fenton made you happy.’ He slowly approached her. ‘But I’m here now and you’re free—’
‘But you’re not,’ Dawn interrupted quietly. ‘Are you?’
‘My heart is. It’s always been yours.’ He raised a hand, brushed the back of a finger against her cheek. ‘It’s you I want.’
Dawn turned from him. ‘I’m not as sophisticated as you, sir. You will need to explain further what you mean by that.’ Was he really saying that he still felt the same way about her, but nevertheless intended to marry somebody else? His fiancée was buying her trousseau, yet her future husband was attempting to woo an old flame. The poor girl! An idea circled in Dawn’s mind that made tears sting her eyes. She might have been that poor girl. If she had become Mrs Valance, how long would the happiness have lasted before she discovered her husband was visiting past loves? She would have trusted him...adored him, just as no doubt Sarah Snow would when she became Lady Sterling. Yet he wasn’t worthy.
‘My marriage will not affect how I feel about you. I wish things were different, but they are not.’ Jack approached her again, blocked her path as she would have escaped him. ‘We are both adults and can give and receive love and comfort, if not wedding vows...’
‘I think I must stop you there, sir, before you say something to offend me.’ Dawn’s voice was clipped and cold. ‘I have the gist of your proposition and it is unwelcome. Thank you for calling, but I think you should leave now.’
He growled a laugh deep in his throat. ‘Did I imagine that you kissed me back...or that you cuddled up to me in bed, after inviting me to use it? Have you been so long widowed that you’ve forgotten what follows when a woman reacts like that to a man?’
‘I did not... I was asleep when you laid down,’ she protested, her face furiously red.
‘But you knew I was there, didn’t you? You were conscious of that.’ He took her hands, tightening his grip when she would have pulled away. ‘I want you and I know you want me. As my mistress you will be as close to me as my wife...closer...’
Dawn snatched herself free and whipped a hand across his face. She turned away, feeling ashamed of what she’d done. The blow had left a white imprint of her fingers on his lean bronzed cheek.
He didn’t seem angry, or hurt—in fact, he smiled.
‘I did offer to leave you alone and sleep in the stables. As I recall, you insisted that I did not.’
Dawn flushed scarlet. ‘I... I believe I said there was room enough for us to share a chamber without getting in each other’s way,’ she spluttered. ‘More fool me for having been worried for your health sleeping outside.’
‘I don’t mind the cold. I prefer it to the heat. A rat-infested cell in Tangier in high summer—’ He broke off and threw back his head to contemplate the ceiling as though deciding what to say and do next. Abruptly he strode towards the door. ‘My apologies. I shouldn’t have come. Please forgive me and forget about what happened here this afternoon.’ He snapped a bow and was in the hallway close to the exit when Dawn caught up with him. She couldn’t bear the thought of them parting so coldly.
‘I’m sorry you suffered while abroad. Truly I am.’ She raised a hand as though to touch his arm in comfort, but curled those fingers into a fist. ‘And whatever you may think, I do sincerely give you and Miss Snow my best wishes. You deserve some peace and happiness after what you have endured.’ She was aware he wanted to leave...and she was detaining him. He kept his face averted and his hand remained on the handle, ready to pull open the door. But she didn’t want them to be bad friends after all he’d done for her. Without him she wouldn’t have her granddaughter safe by her side. ‘Please don’t allow this to come between us...’ Her small teeth nipped her lower lip as he curtailed her attempt at reconciliation with a brutal laugh.
‘It’s too late for that as well, Dawn.’ He put a hand to her face, turning it up firmly so she couldn’t avoid the searing look he was giving her. ‘But you’re right, let’s be adult about it. If we meet at the Houndsmeres’ or elsewhere, I’ll play my part of genial fellow.’
‘Will you play your part of faithful husband?’ She couldn’t believe she’d let that slip out. Especially as she already knew the answer to her question. She might have turned him down, but others wouldn’t. He was a rich, handsome aristocrat on the prowl for a mistress and could take his pick of women.
‘What do you care?’ he asked. ‘You do care...that’s the problem. And it’s mine, too,’ he added self-mockingly.
‘You’ve no idea how callous you sound, have you?’ She curled her fingers over his to remove their warmth from her face. ‘Emma said she believed you a changed man to the one she knew. And indeed you are different.’
‘And so are you,’ he returned silkily. ‘You’re not a virgin of twenty-three now. You’re a widow with a granddaughter, for God’s sake.’
‘You think that the fact that I’m older and have had a husband has somehow stripped me of morals?’ she demanded indignantly.
‘No... I thought those damnable years apart might have shown you as it has me that happiness is not won l
ightly and, if found in among the dross, should be snatched at.’
‘You are soon to vow to love and cherish a young woman who might actually believe you mean what you tell her in church, sir.’ Dawn sounded aghast at his duplicity. ‘You may cheat her if you will...it’s a matter for your own conscience. But I will not be the one to abet you in it. I know how I would feel if my husband cheated on me.’
‘Was he faithful?’
Dawn shook her head in censure. ‘The fact you even ask me that is proof you are deplorably cynical, sir.’
He laughed, quite amused. ‘I prefer to call it realism. Marriage, as you know, is no romantic dream no matter how much you wish it to be.’
Had she known that Jack would taunt her with the practical arrangement she’d had with Thomas, she wouldn’t have disclosed it. As husband and wife they had shared affection...and a bed. Their life together had never been an ordeal. Yet Jack had sowed a seed of doubt. If Thomas had been richer, would he have kept a mistress? ‘Yes, I do know that marriage isn’t all sweetness. For some of us there is more to it than passion: respect and honour and duty are equally important.’
‘Yes, they are...’ Jack agreed sourly. ‘There is no need to tell me that, I assure you.’
His hand was tightening on the door handle. Dawn could tell he wanted to leave, but equally was torn in two, as she was, because not all had yet been said. Once he’d gone their differences would hold them apart and thus the rest might never be aired if they didn’t speak of it now. And there was something niggling at her.
‘Why on earth would you wish to get married with your attitude? Surely not for her dowry when you now have enough riches of your own.’
‘Money?’ He barked a laugh. ‘Would that it were that simple,’ he muttered. ‘I’m marrying for respect and honour and duty and every other damnable scruple that you believe me incapable of possessing. And I wish you were right and I was without conscience. But it seems I am not; it is constantly with me so I must put you from my head instead.’
