by Rose Gordon
Andrew decided this was not the best method to enter the countess’s chambers, and later today that door would be taken off its hinges and burned. Looking around, Andrew spotted his penknife lying on the vanity.
Fighting his irritation with himself for not thinking to use it sooner, he pulled out the blade and stalked over to the door.
In less than fifteen seconds he had the lock picked and pushed open the door. He was expecting Brooke to scream in surprise. He was expecting her to rage at him. He was even expecting flying objects to be hurled at his head.
He was not expecting the room to be empty.
He looked behind the wardrobe and dressing screen. He peeked under the bed. She wasn’t anywhere. There was nothing out of place and no sign of her. He turned in a half-circle and smiled grimly. The door leading to the hallway was slightly ajar. He walked over and opened it, then looked up and down the hallway, but it was empty.
He stormed back into her room in time to see a movement out the window. Wanting to get a closer look, he walked to the window, just in time to see Brooke tearing across the lawn toward the duke’s carriage, clad in nothing more than his red dressing robe.
Chapter 27
Andrew ran down the stairs and to the front door as fast as his feet could carry him, all the while wondering what had possessed her to take a ride from the duke.
He couldn’t catch up with the carriage on foot; he’d have to saddle his horse and run into her on the road. He was almost certain she was going back to Alex’s, where she could convince her family he was an awful monster—which he was—then they’d leave and he’d never get another chance to see her again. He had to catch up to her.
He reached out to open the front door and froze at the sight of the duke’s shadow. A wave of relief rushed through him knowing the duke had not been in that carriage with her. Call it whatever you want: jealousy, possession, or love, it made no difference; something in him did not like the idea of Gateway alone with her, especially with her only wearing that little scrap of fabric.
“It looks like your luck just improved,” Gateway drawled from behind Andrew’s back. “She’s gone. Now that you’re free of her, I’ll give you your deed. A house is so much better than a trollop for a wife anyway. They both require a bit of money, but at least with the house, you know who inhabits it while you’re away.” He cackled at his insinuation.
Andrew’s blood was thundering so loudly in his ears he did not hear his mother shriek, “Benjamin Archer Leopold Charles Robert Collins!”
All thoughts of rushing after Brooke fled his mind and he took his hand off the door handle, spun around, and without hesitation, brought his fist up to connect with the center of Gateway’s face, creating a sharp cracking noise, followed by a loud thud.
He took a measure of satisfaction when Gateway dropped to the floor like a lead weight and lay there in a tangled pile of limbs, groaning in pain.
Andrew’s mother ran over to where Gateway’s still form lay groaning on the floor. She bent over him to smooth his hair back when she made a cry of distress.
“Why are you crying over him?” Andrew growled, hauling her up off the floor.
She didn’t answer. She just glanced at Gateway on the floor then to Andrew, her eyes full of unshed tears. “Why can’t you two get along?” she cried, fighting Andrew’s grip on her arm.
“Why should we?” Andrew countered, tightening his grip. Then it dawned on him, his mother had said something before he punched Gateway. He could have sworn it was Gateway’s full name, but why would she say that? And how would she know it? She was a recluse after all. He released his hold on her arm and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why did you call him by his full name? How did you even know it? Since when have you two become fast friends?” He bombarded her with questions, taking a step closer to her with each one, causing her to back up until she backed straight into a wall.
When she didn’t answer him, he wondered what he was missing. What had she called him? Benjamin Archer Leopold Charles Robert Collins. Then it fit. Archer. That was the name of his playmate in Essex.
“Who is he to you?” Andrew bellowed, making her go pale. “Don’t deny that you know him on a personal level. I remember playing with a little boy named Archer until I was about five and he suddenly disappeared. There's no reason for you, a recluse, to know his full name unless he is the same Archer I played with. Now tell me what’s going on.”
“I need to sit down,” she choked out, holding onto the corner of the table next to her for balance.
Andrew backed away a step to give her some breathing room. Then taking her elbow in a firm grasp, he led her over to the settee.
“May I have some water?” she asked meekly, her hand patting the top of her chest.
Andrew stalked over to the carafe on his desk, picked it up, grabbed a glass from off a nearby shelf, slammed it down, and carelessly dumped some water inside. When it was half full, he snatched it up and thrust it in his mother’s face. “Here,” he growled. “Will that be all? Or do you require anything else before your grand revelations? Perhaps I should stoke the fire, or get on my knees and rub your feet?”
“Your tone and sarcasm are quite unbecoming,” his mother criticized.
Andrew ground his teeth. “Begin your tale, madam.”
She tried to hold onto that glass of water with all her might, but she could hardly grip it. Her hands were shaking, and her fingers were slipping off the sides. She held the glass in one hand, while wiping her free hand on her skirt to dry off her sweaty palm, then transferred it to the other hand and did the same thing. Her skin was still whiter than any table linen he’d ever seen and the tears that were brimming in her eyes earlier were now on the brink of spilling out.
Taking mercy on her, Andrew walked to her and carefully took the glass from her. He gently placed it on the table and took a seat next to her.
“Leave her alone,” Gateway broke in from the doorway, looking reconciled and considerably worse for the wear. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, just leave Lizzie alone.”
“Lizzie?” Andrew repeated hollowly. His mother’s name was Elizabeth but he’d never heard anyone call her Lizzie.
“No,” Elizabeth spoke up, rubbing her hands up and down on her skirt. “Andrew is my son. I shall tell him.” Fixing her gaze on Andrew’s chest, she said, “Benjamin, Archer, Channing, Gateway or whatever you want to call him, is a relation of mine.”
“A relation?” Andrew echoed. “What kind?” His tone was full of disbelief.
“It’s complicated,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “Can we just leave it at that?”
Andrew looked at her as if she had just grown an extra head. “No.” If Gateway was a “relation” to his mother, that would make him one of Andrew’s relations, too. Just the thought made him spring to his feet faster than sitting on a metal spike would have. “No, we cannot leave it at that. If that scoundrel is your relation,” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Gateway, “that means he is also a relation of mine! I demand to know. Now!”
“We’re siblings. Sort of,” Gateway said uneasily.
“Siblings? Sort of? How can that be? You either are or you’re not. Which is it?” Andrew asked, head snapping back and forth from his mother to Gateway, who he just noticed was holding a bloody handkerchief around his swollen nose.
“If one digs deep enough, they can find a connection through our father, Robert Collins, the previous Duke of Gateway,” his mother said without much emotion.
Andrew’s brow shot up so far it was almost lost in his hairline.
“When Robert was younger he seduced a young woman,” Elizabeth said uneasily before Gateway jumped up and cut her off.
“Lizzie, stop,” Gateway cut in irritably, putting a swift end to Elizabeth’s evasive story. “He’s a man, or at least he’d like us to think so, just get on with it.”
Andrew scowled at Gateway, but didn’t bother to give his meaningless dig a response.
Life was too short to spend it in Gateway’s presence.
Elizabeth shot Gateway a questioning gaze, then cleared her throat and nodded. “All right,” she said in a normal, if not somewhat clipped tone. “The previous duke was a randy lad when he was eighteen and seduced his mother’s lady’s maid. Not wanting to lose her highly coveted lady’s maid, the duchess chose to ignore the fact she was increasing and the maid kept her position. A few months later the maid died in childbirth.
“For some reason, Charles, Robert’s father and the duke at the time, had sympathy for the motherless, and essentially fatherless, child and he decided to keep me as his ward, even though this infuriated Robert.”
Andrew just stared at her, stunned. He’d always heard rumors and speculation about his mother’s family, but he’d never had the heart—or desire—to bring it up with her. But to know she was a by-blow from the old Gateway was enough to shock anybody into a state of horrified silence.
“My grandfather was the sweetest man, and much to Robert’s dismay, he spoiled me beyond belief. When I came of age, he decided I should have a come out. However, just weeks before I was to be presented to court, Grandfather died,” Elizabeth said sadly, then swallowed a couple of times and looked across the room with a sad expression on her face.
“Mother,” Andrew said abruptly, startling her out of her little daydream. “You’ve just told me how you’re related, but how did you two become so close? You’re nearly twenty years older than he is.”
“If you’d let me finish, you’d know,” Elizabeth said with a sniff.
“Well, excuse me for hurrying you along. This isn’t exactly one of those charming family stories one sits in front of a cozy fire all bundled up in blankets, drinking hot chocolate and begging one’s parents to repeat for the hundredth time. Now could you tell me the rest, so I can punch Gateway once more for good measure and go after my wife?”
Elizabeth shot him a sharp look. “There will be no more hitting. It’s barbaric and I raised you both better than that, or so I thought.”
“’Fraid not,” Gateway said jovially. “And there will certainly be more hitting if he goes after her.”
“No, there won’t be,” Elizabeth snapped, jerking her gaze back and forth between Andrew and Gateway. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but it’s obvious the beautiful young woman that came in here earlier has her heart broken, and Andrew will be going after her if I have to drag him.”
“Not to worry. I’ll be on my way to fetch my bride as soon as you tell me how the two of you became bosom friends,” Andrew said irritably, meeting his mother’s stare with one of his own. “Could we please get on with it? I’ve never heard you ramble so much. You’re starting to sound like Liberty.”
Gateway snorted. “Nobody could talk that much,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Elizabeth eyed them both curiously, but didn’t ask. “Robert had just married my closest friend and didn’t want to spend the time or money on presenting me to court. But his father’s will said he’d be disinherited if he didn’t make a match for me, so in less than a week, he managed to match me with the biggest reprobate of the season, Lord Townson.
“I don’t know what he told Thomas to get him to marry me, but whatever it was, it didn’t include the actual amount of my dowry, nor my parentage,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes. “The day after our wedding, Thomas and Robert were in the Rockhurst library fighting over my dowry. My friend thought she was helping and stepped in to convince the duke to give him the rest of the money. He refused, and that’s when she accidentally let it slip it was only hurting his daughter more by withholding the money.”
“That’s why he packed you off to Essex?” Andrew asked softly.
Elizabeth gave a stiff nod, her body was rigid and her eyes were fixed on an empty vase across the room. Andrew sat back down and wrapped his arm around her. Pulling her to him, he brushed a kiss on her forehead and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” she assured him with a stiff smile. “It’s not your fault. It was for the best. I couldn’t imagine having to live with that despicable man the rest of his life.”
“That explains the estrangement, but I fail to see how Benjamin fits into all this,” Andrew said curiously.
“Well, see that’s where the story gets stickier,” Elizabeth said cautiously.
“Lizzie, you’re beating around the bush again,” Gateway declared, sounding agitated. “The duke wasn’t the only randy rascal around. His wife cuckolded him, and when I was born it was undeniable proof she’d been shaking the sheets with the second footman. They ran away together and the duke packed me off to Essex with a nurse.”
Andrew’s jaw went slack and his mouth hung open, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get it to close. The irony of it was too much. Gateway was a bastard through and through, in action and deed. “That’s what you meant by ‘sort of’ being siblings, one of you is actually the child of a duke by blood and not paper, and the other is a duke’s child on paper but not blood,” he mused, trying not to let his fascination show. Truly this was the stuff for novels.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you find it entertaining, Andrew,” his mother said shortly. “After Ben was moved to Essex, the duke wrote and told me he would send me what my grandfather had set up for my dowry if I would watch out for Ben until it was time for him to go to Eton. I was penniless, so I agreed. Naturally, I let the two of you play together and would have continued to had your father not gotten wind of it.
“When you were five, Thomas found out about the situation and demanded you go live with him in London. I wrote letters everyday begging for him to let you come back, but it was only after I agreed to give him half the money that he let you come home. While you were gone, the duke wrote and demanded you two not have any more interaction because he didn’t want you to recognize each other at school, start asking questions, and cause a scandal. Seeing he was right, I reluctantly agreed and when you came back, I told you he’d moved. That’s when you started spending the afternoons with the nurse, and I’d go see Ben.”
Every muscle in Andrew’s body tightened. The feeling of sympathy for his mother’s plight was swiftly changing into rage. She had told him it was countess duties, but all along she’d been stealing away every afternoon to go see Benjamin. He was her son, he had needed her. “You left me, your son, to go spend time with someone who isn’t even your brother?” he questioned, piercing her with his stare.
Elizabeth stiffened and pursed her lips. “How dare you?” she demanded, her voice telling how offended she was. “I had to. I'd agreed to look after him. That was how I made my way in this world. You should be grateful I went. How do you think we survived? If it had been up to your father, we would’ve starved to death out in the country,” she snapped.
“Did you have to check on him every day?” Andrew countered. “Wasn’t once a week enough to go see him?”
“He was lonely!” she burst out. “All he wanted was a little human interaction. Other than me, the only other person he saw was his nurse. You at least got to go see your father, even if it was a miserable visit. He had no one. On the two occasions the duke did come to see him, all he did was condemn him for his mother’s transgressions.” She jumped up and wagged her finger at him. “If you’d been listening at all to what I just told you, you’d know that I was the object of the duke’s scorn for years. Whether Ben is really my brother or not doesn’t change that I love him the same way I love you. He and I share a tie similar to the one you and I share. You and I were hated and the object of scorn by your father, and Ben and I were the object of scorn from the duke.” With a huff, she plopped back down on the settee and crossed her arms defensively.
Shame washed over Andrew. She was right. She had to go see Benjamin; not only for the money, but her other reasons were valid as well. He had no right to be angry with her for loving and being loved by someone else. “I’m sorry for what I said,” he said
softly, squeezing her hand. “It wasn’t fair of me to say those things to you. You did the best you could, and I appreciate all you did for me.”
Mother didn’t say anything. She just wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek and squeezed his hand back.
Coming to his feet, Andrew silently walked out of the room. This was all too much. In the last two days, he had ruined an innocent girl’s reputation, been challenged to a duel, gotten married, been in a fist fight, found out his mother was illegitimate, learned in a twisted way he had a bizarre connection to the depraved Duke of Gateway, and worst of all, he’d lost his wife.
“Where are you going?” Gateway shouted to Andrew’s back.
“Out,” Andrew answered simply in a clipped tone.
“Out? Not to the baron’s house party I hope?”
Andrew whipped around to face Gateway. “It’s none of your business where I go or what I do,” he said in a steely tone. “You might have some strange connection to my mother, but that doesn’t move you up in my opinion.”
“I’m warning you, Townson, if you bring her back you’ll never get that estate back,” Gateway thundered.
“I don’t want it,” Andrew said, realizing it was the truth. “I thought I did, I thought that if I could get that estate back it would solve all my problems.” He looked to his mother. “I thought if I could get that estate back, I would be able to have the income that I currently lack and could give the house to my mother to heal the pain I caused when I rejected her. But ruining someone else’s life is not the way to go about fixing things. I don’t know why I let myself believe it was.” He met his mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry for what I did and said back then, but I was just a boy and I didn’t realize the pain I was causing. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”
“You ruined a girl’s reputation to get back that musty, crumbling estate because you thought it would mend our rift?” Elizabeth shrieked, leaping off the settee and putting her hands on her hips. “You, my son, are a coxcomb. I hated that estate. I only went there because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. As for our separation, well, that was your father’s doing. I did send you letters, but per Thomas’s request, they were returned by the school master. During breaks, he demanded you go stay with him. He did it to torture me and it worked, but I never held that against you.”
