by Allison Lane
“Praise God. It really is you.” Tears drenched her face.
“Katy.” He reached the bed in two strides, pulling his sister into his arms. “He told me you were dead, Katy. I never knew, never questioned…” His own tears flowed freely.
Hope slipped from the room, her eyes so wet she ran into Max without seeing him. Only his arm prevented a fall.
“He cares,” she said in wonder.
“He has always cared,” Max said, squeezing her once before releasing her. “But he was a child, away at school, and could only believe what his father told him.”
“How could any man be so cruel?” The action surpassed even Uncle Edward’s persecution.
“Sir Quentin banished Catherine, but didn’t trust the family to accept his decision – they all adored her – so he told everyone that she’d died. Richard suffered for her absence. They had been closer than most siblings, for they had no mother, only a cold, demanding father who enjoyed wielding power. Sir Quentin even prohibited them from mingling with others of their own class lest they be contaminated by sin. And he kept them busy with chores and Bible study, allowing them no pleasures. It is no wonder that she slipped away whenever possible to enjoy a few minutes of freedom.”
“Naïve and unprotected,” she agreed. “She would have offered no challenge to my father.”
“I pointed that out to your grandfather.”
She tripped, jamming her hip against the corner of a table as she tried to recover. “You spoke with him?”
“I suspect that his sins were tormenting him even before I met him. I can guarantee that he is pondering them now. And he is trying to atone.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?” she demanded coldly.
“He is dying, and he knows it. He will not last out the year.”
She shrugged, not caring about the fate of a man who deserved worse than her longstanding contempt.
“He is trying to make amends,” he said, pulling her around to face him. “You may not care about him – I would be surprised if you did – but think about your mother. The burden of his curse has weighed on her shoulders since before you were born. Despite his many faults, he is her father. His word carries much weight with her.”
“He cursed her?”
He nodded. “When he threw her out. She was very religious. He had been unyielding as a vicar and remained devout even after acceding to the baronetcy. So when he consigned her soul to hell, what could she do?”
“No wonder she accepted Uncle Edward’s hatred.”
“A just punishment for an unforgivable sin is how her father would have described it.” His voice sounded sad. “But no more. Richard is delivering Sir Quentin’s letter absolving her of guilt and begging her forgiveness for his stubborn pride.”
“How did you manage that?” She backed out of reach, staring. “I do not believe that such a man is capable of repentance.”
“Astute of you. I played on his fear of meeting his Maker. And I had the help of an emissary from beyond.” His eyes twinkled.
“You must tell me about that some time. But now I must prepare a room – the one next to Mother’s would be best. Thank you, my lord,” she added formally, striving to put the necessary distance between them. “Mother will relate her own appreciation when she is strong enough to receive you.”
* * * *
An hour later, Hope was again mending in the drawing room. Rockhurst had returned and was upstairs with Max. She’d sent Wilkins to pluck two more chickens and was trying to decide whether she dared feed this new uncle in the servants’ hall, when he paused in the doorway as if hesitant to join her.
“Come in, sir,” she said, setting aside her work. He looked forlorn.
“I have so many questions,” he murmured, taking a seat. “Will you answer some of them? I feared to press Katy, for she is so weak.”
“If I can, but I know few answers myself. Mother never talked of her family. I did not even know the name.”
“Merimont told me the basics, but I would know more of Ashburton’s purpose. Why does he despise her?”
“No one knows, though Mother and I have discussed it often enough. For some reason, he blames her for Father’s death, though it seems odd. Father drank himself into a stupor, then tumbled into a river and drowned. She was not even there at the time. Edward adored his brother, but it’s been twenty-six years, and the loss was more than offset when the title and family fortune came to him. Why would it still matter?”
“It sounds as though he has changed little since school.”
“Did you know him?”
“Not well. He was three years ahead of me. But his intelligence has always been questionable, and he is the stubborn sort who rarely repudiates an idea once it lodges in his head.”
Further discourse was interrupted when the front door crashed open. Hope cursed. She’d neglected to relock it after letting Max and Richard in. Rockhurst had returned through the kitchen.
Ashburton stormed into the room, halting when he spied Hope’s visitor. “What the devil are you doing here, Godfrey?”
“Calling on my sister.”
He laughed. “Forget the jests. The reason is obvious. The counterfeit Puritans are finally displaying their true colors. Are you calling on my father’s whore or is little Hope accepting patrons these days? I knew she would give in sooner or later.” He swaggered across the room and reached for her.
“Leave,” she ordered, putting a chair between them. “You are trespassing.”
“Did your mother teach you all her tricks?” He leered.
Richard’s fist lashed out, connecting solidly with Edward’s nose.
“You’ll show respect for my family or meet me at dawn.” His voice was cold enough to freeze hell. A second blow sent Edward to the floor.
“Family?” Edward shook his head, gingerly fingering his nose.
“Family. You knew Arnold better than that. He would attack anything wearing skirts. My sister had the misfortune to encounter him when she was alone. He forced himself on her, then left. When our father threw her out, she had nowhere to go but to yours. But marriage merely compounded her problems. Like you, he preyed on the weak, beating her until she nearly died.”
“You lie.” He struggled to his knees, his eyes burning with rage. “Father’s servants knew she’d been one of his whores. When she turned up pregnant, he believed her claim that he’d fathered the brat, so he forced her on Arnold. But he couldn’t stay away from the bitch, having his way with her again and again until it finally killed him.”
Richard landed a kick in Edward’s gut, knocking him back to the floor. “Name your seconds, Ashburton. Even you can’t be stupid enough to believe such filth. Anyone with half an eye can see that Katy is a gently bred lady. Your father had never seen her before she showed up looking for Arnold. Your brother was a fool. But beyond that, he was a selfish man who took whatever he wanted with no thought to the consequences. Katy has done nothing to harm you.”
“She tricked—”
“Trouble?” asked Max from the doorway. He glanced at Edward, still sprawled on the floor. “I thought Miss Ashburton told you to leave her alone. Redrock is no longer yours.”
“I knew it!” Ashburton surged to his feet, one hand clutching his stomach. “I knew the great libertine couldn’t resist so delectable a morsel.”
Hope gasped, her eyes flitting from one man to the next as she registered the fury and violence in their faces.
“He arrived with me,” said Richard coldly, shoving Edward into a chair. “You haven’t changed a whit since school, have you, Ashburton? Again I must pound the truth into that wooden head of yours.”
“If you touch me again, I’ll ruin you.”
Max shook his head. “Impossible. If you make this public, you will be ruined. The truth is there for anyone who looks – witnesses to Catherine Godfrey’s innocence, witnesses to Arnold’s long history of seduction, witnesses to his brutality against his wife, at least one witn
ess to his death, and the damning evidence of your father’s will.”
Edward growled.
Hope gripped the back of the chair, reeling from his words.
Max turned to face her. “You were wrong, Hope. Your grandfather planned for every contingency. The tuition was already paid – and forfeited when you failed to attend. Provision was made for a Season and a dowry. Your uncle lied to the solicitor, claiming that ill health prevented a come-out. Then he moved the Ashburton business to a new solicitor who knew better than to ask questions.” He turned back to Edward. “Your father’s solicitor was shocked to hear that Hope did not fall prey to consumption. And he was furious to learn that her mother had not remarried after Hope’s death eight years ago.”
Edward swore. “How could he expect me to sponsor a whore’s brat into society? You should be thanking me for protecting us all.”
“As usual, you choose the hard way to learn your lessons,” growled Richard, grabbing Edward’s cravat and pulling him to his feet. “You are as stupid and stubborn as you were thirty years ago.”
“I will explain it to him,” Max said, jerking Edward toward the door. “By the time we finish our discussion, he will understand his mistakes.”
Hope started to object, but Max frowned her into silence. His eyes promised that all would be well. When she spotted Rockhurst hovering in the hall, she understood.
Her head spun. She was more naïve than she’d believed. Not once had she thought to confirm Uncle Edward’s claims. She had assumed that someone would let them know if they had been mentioned in her grandfather’s will. When they heard nothing, she’d put the matter aside. By the time she realized the depth of Edward’s hatred, she had forgotten all about it.
Max had gone to a great deal of trouble, and done it quite efficiently, she realized with a start. Was it possible that he had been as affected by that kiss as she?
“Forgive me, my dear,” said Richard, making her jump. “I cannot imagine what you have endured all these years. Ashburton makes rocks seem intelligent and mules appear cooperative.”
“It could have been worse,” she said on a sigh. “He rarely called on us. Most of his schemes merely reduced our income.” At least until this last one. It was obvious that he had meant to ruin her. Only his stupidity had saved her, for he’d accepted the worst rumors about Max as true, failing to see that the man was honorable.
“You are fortunate, then. He has done worse. It was his attack on one of my classmates that precipitated our last confrontation.”
“That sounds like an interesting story.”
“But not for your ears.” He sighed. “I owe you so many apologies, I hardly know where to begin. Losing my temper in your drawing room belies my standing as a gentleman. And I should have questioned Father’s claims long ago, particularly when he refused to erect a stone upon her grave, declaring it an unworthy conceit. That was the last time I asked about her illness,” he added sadly.
“It was not your fault,” she assured him. “You were hardly more than a child yourself.”
“Thank you. You have grown to be a lovely lady and a credit to Katy. I look forward to knowing you better, but for the moment, I feel a need for rest. Do not expect me down for dinner,” he added. “I promised Katy to eat with her. She hopes to be well enough to come home within the week.”
“Home?” Her hand suddenly shook.
“Father is dying. She must make peace with him now, or he will be forever beyond her reach. You will join us, of course.”
Fury prevented a response, but he did not notice. By the time she suppressed the initial wave, he was gone.
Idiot!
She should have known. Merimont might be easing her mother’s melancholy, but his motives were strictly selfish. Reuniting her with a long-estranged family provided the perfect way to break the lease. He’d taken her refusal to heart – undoubtedly with a great deal of relief – so he’d found another place for them to live, not caring that removing them from Redrock eliminated every shilling of their income and placed them at the mercy of men they barely knew.
She swore. He would not succeed with such subterfuge. She would decline Uncle Richard’s invitation, with regrets. Her mother would understand. As for Lord Merimont, he would have to take himself elsewhere.
Chapter Seventeen
Max and Blake shoved Ashburton’s battered body into his carriage and watched him disappear down the drive. It had taken longer than he’d expected, but in the end, Ashburton had repented his mistakes.
What a family! Hope’s grandfather had ordered Arnold home to explain why he’d beaten Catherine, leading to an argument that had been overheard by most of the staff. Arnold had claimed innocence, offering his own version of events: The birth had been full term, proving Catherine a liar. She was a whore who’d hoped to improve her lot by gulling an old fool. He had no idea who had sired the babe, nor did he care.
The servant sent to fetch Edward home from his grand tour had repeated Arnold’s claims and had also revealed the old man’s taste for a certain brothel in London. Edward had taken the hints to heart. By the time he’d reached England, he not only believed that Hope was his half sister, but he thought Arnold’s death had been a plot to rid Catherine of an inconvenient husband whose only purpose had been to legitimize her brat. Only the fact that Hope was a girl had kept Edward in the succession. His father’s claims had meant nothing because they were calculated to hide the man’s culpability in elevating his mistress into the aristocracy. And those frequent visits to Redrock proved that she remained his mistress.
But Edward had finally accepted the truth.
Max glanced through the documents in his hand. One was a signed confession. Dornbras’s only contribution had been an inadvertent portrayal of Max as a gullible fool and unbridled libertine. Ashburton expected Max to seduce Hope. He then planned to lock both women in a brothel and be done with them.
The papers also included a letter to Ashburton’s solicitor ordering the release of all obligations under his father’s will – Hope and her mother were not the only beneficiaries who had been ignored – an apology to his father’s solicitor, and two drafts on his bank. The one for forty thousand guineas was made out to Catherine Ashburton, repaying the money stolen from her through mismanagement of Redrock House. The other was to Hope for the ten-thousand-guinea dowry that should have become hers when she’d remained unwed at age five-and-twenty. Ashburton would never bother them again. Max had vowed to release the confession if one word against Hope or her mother ever appeared in public.
“Good work,” said Blake, flexing his fingers.
“Thanks to Gentleman Jackson.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going to wash up, then I must talk to Hope.”
“Good luck. I have no idea what she’ll do. She’s hardly spoken to me since you left, but I suspect she has been strengthening her defenses.”
He grimaced, though he hoped Blake was wrong. At least today’s events must make her think. The expression on her face when she’d left Richard with her mother had warmed his heart, and she’d looked almost worshipful when he’d revealed the terms of her grandfather’s will. Restoring her mother’s legacy and evicting Ashburton from her life should complete his rehabilitation.
Or so he prayed. He recalled the cool aloofness she’d donned more than once and the rigid formality of her thanks. She’d surprised him too often to assume anything.
Wilkins had managed only one pitcher of warm water, but Max cleaned up well enough. He was heading downstairs to look for Hope when the knocker sounded.
“What now?” he muttered, jerking open the door. Had Ashburton come back for another round?
“Father!” He stared. Montcalm stared back. The man hadn’t even sent his groom to demand admittance.
“Did your staff quit rather than put up with your antics?” Montcalm snapped.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Ashburton claims you are making an ass of yourself again.”
He was shutting the door when Hope appeared. His heart sank when he met her eyes to see only fury, and a bleakness he did not comprehend.
“So he was right,” snapped Montcalm. “You’ve set up your latest doxy here.”
She bristled. “Another of Uncle’s brainless friends, I presume. Throw him out, Merimont. I’m through being insulted in my own home.”
“That would be difficult, Miss Ashburton. This is my father.”
“Miss Ashburton?” Montcalm’s tone could freeze water. “My God, Max. This is your worst escapade yet. You’ve ruined the girl.”
Hope stiffened. “No wonder Merimont is so addlepated,” she said coldly. “You are as bad as my uncle – trusting chronic liars, drawing conclusions based on little or no evidence, then expecting others to accept your idiotic notions.”
“I have eyes, girl,” said Montcalm.
“But no more sense than a stone.” She glared at Max. “Send him to the White Heron. Then do me a favor and join him. You obviously deserve each other.”
Before Max could figure out why she was so angry, she whirled toward the kitchen stairs. Henry hurried in as she disappeared.
“Tell Mrs. Tweed to make up the blue room for my father,” he ordered the lad, naming the bedchamber between his and Blake’s. He would consider Hope’s outburst later. First he had to deal with Montcalm.
Walking to the office gave him a moment to catch his breath. He took Hope’s chair behind the desk and motioned his father to sit. It felt odd to have their positions reversed, but he welcomed the advantage it gave him.
Montcalm’s lips thinned. “So you won Redrock in a wild card game.”
“It came into my possession while I was playing cards, but my hand was not the winner.”
Montcalm frowned.
“Ashburton gave me the estate, though I didn’t realize that until later.” He explained. “Like you, he believed exaggerated stories and assumed that I would destroy his brother’s widow and her daughter. He now knows better and won’t be bothering them again.”
