Secret Pleasures

by Cheryl Howe

“You have no idea the power you squander so carelessly. A man is nothing without it.”

  “I do now. So if you’ll excuse me, I shall sit by my father’s deathbed and when I come out, you can plead your case and petition my assistance.”

  “Petition your assistance? Do you have any idea to whom you are speaking?” Maddox blinked rapidly, came to his full height, but stepped back as if shoved.

  “Not a peer of the realm.” Darien closed the door on Maddox’s reddened face.

  “I’m not through with you, Blackmore.” Maddox’s words were muffled by the solid wood but loud enough for him to be heard through the closed door.

  Darien strode to his father’s bedside table.

  “Why do you insist on creating so many enemies?” A rattle crept into his father’s voice that disturbed Darien. He had heard the same sound in his mother’s breathing a day or so before she died.

  “Maddox made himself one. He’s the one who started the rumor that Ivy was your mistress.”

  “But he did not make her break her engagement. And more importantly, force her to become the Duke of Huntingdon’s mistress.”

  Darien unlocked a small top drawer. The letter lay beside a long strand of braided golden blond hair tied with a pink ribbon. He lifted the hair, thinking it was too light and entirely too long to come from Philip’s burnished mop. Everyone else in the family had his mother’s and his own raven hair.

  “Diana de Rachelle’s.” His father watched Darien’s every move from a heavy, hooded gaze. “You are not the only one who has had to give up someone he loved.”

  “Then why did you abandon her?” Darien’s accusation slipped out from pure guilt rather than real curiosity. His father might have allowed a rumor that he had slept with Darien’s fiancée, but Darien had actually done the deed, and impregnated his father’s mistress in the process. He thought he would have relished the irony, but like everything revealed lately, it made him look like an ass.

  “I thought I was doing what was best for everyone. Your mother’s health continued to worsen. She needed me with her more often than not. I assumed Diana would find another protector. The doctor had already warned me about the precariousness of my own health.”

  “Well, you’re still here, aren’t you?” Darien replaced Diana’s hair, despising himself a little for not noticing the color before. He picked up the letter with his name on the front. Philip’s neat script stole his breath, as if he were a ghost blowing into the room.

  “I’m too bloody stubborn to die.”

  “Let’s hope so.” One glance to his father told Darien otherwise.

  Darien turned over the letter and carefully broke the seal. The note looked like any other letter, neatly scripted in Philip’s confident hand. No large emotional scrawl or smeared ink from a shed tear. Philip would have handled this situation without creasing a seam or wielding the musket Darien left propped in the corner.

  12 March 1782

  Dearest Darien,

  It pains me to have to bid you a final farewell in the cold formality of a letter. I know that you insist that you are unfit for polite society, which is exactly why you will make such a smashing earl.

  The script became blurry and Darien squeezed his eyes shut, grateful not to read anymore. Though his first instinct was to ball the offensive missive in his fist, he folded the letter carefully with shaking hands and turned back to his father.

  His father stared at him anxiously. “What did it say?”

  Darien took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself enough to speak. “Good bye,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “There is more but I can’t…”

  His father’s gaze drifted shut, a slice of pain tightened his features. He had not been the only one hoping for answers all these years. But what did his father possibly hope would be revealed in Philip’s dying words? Redemption, perhaps? For Darien, it was the realization there was no one else to blame.

  “I can’t give up Ivy and Melody.” Darien dropped in the chair beside his father and hung his head.

  A warm hand covered the one he rested on his thigh.

  “Don’t give up anything. Don’t you see that’s the power you shall have? Your daughter will be an earl’s child. Let her have all her family can give her.”

  Darien thought of poor Melody, born in squalor, left alone with her dying mother. If Ivy had not found her…

  “Darien, I am begging you for once in your life to do your duty, not only for your mother’s peace, but for your brother’s eternal soul. If he’s dug from the family—” His father started coughing and could not catch his breath until Darien helped him sip some water.

  “I know what I must do and I will,” Darien said through gritted teeth. “I shall marry Arianna on the condition she is willing to accept my daughter as her own and Ivy in my life.”

  “Thank you, Darien,” his father whispered.

  Darien stood. “I think I should fetch Dr. Shipley.” He needed to remove himself from his father’s side so he could justify breaking his word and escaping England while he still could. His insides churned even at the notion of staying and betraying Ivy so cruelly. Bile burned his throat because he knew that’s exactly what he must do.

  Darien walked to the door, the enormity of all his father’s secrets weighing on him with each step. They were his secrets now.

  “Darien,” his father called from the bed. He seemed to shrink with the lifting of his burden. He was an old man who had lost too much. Maybe Darien would have seen that before if he hadn’t been too preoccupied with his own imagined misfortune. Now he truly knew the price of love.

  “Yes, Father.” The word felt strange on Darien’s tongue. He kept his hand on the door handle, wanting to run. The Westhaven who had been cold and all powerful had been so much easier to do battle with.

  “I wish I could live to see your daughter call you that.”

  Darien’s throat squeezed and he merely nodded.

  “May I meet her? Your child.”

  “Of course. Rest and I’ll bring her shortly.” Darien tried to smile though he was sure he failed miserably. He shut the door behind him and paused to catch his breath.

  “I want to talk to Westhaven. Enough of this stalling.” Maddox strode to the door.

  “Talk.” Darien commanded Maddox with an authority he found more of a burden than an asset.

  “He’s dead,” Maddox said a little too breathlessly, giving away that the Blackmores were not the only ones who had much to lose.

  “Not yet. He needs the doctor.”

  “Then let me see him. We have an important matter to settle.”

  Darien blocked the door. “It’s been settled. I shall marry Arianna.”

  Maddox stumbled back as if Darien had struck him.

  “You?”

  “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “What about your little love nest?”

  “Arianna will accept my daughter as her own and Ivy as my mistress.” Darien was not sure how Ivy would take the news but he had no doubt she would want the best for Melody. He couldn’t think beyond that or he would not be able to function at all.

  “My daughter will not raise some illegitimate whelp fathered by God knows whom.”

  “But I am more than willing to claim Arianna’s child, if that be the case. Even if it’s a boy.” Darien strolled to the door that led from his father’s suites. Dr. Shipley had left the study and Darien needed to find him at once. Only then could he search out Ivy and explain the situation to her before someone else did. “You see, I know exactly where Arianna was last night because I drove her there myself. I’m sure Dr. Shipley will be glad to verify Arianna’s lack of virginity before the wedding with or without an examination. Isn’t that’s how it’s done, Maddox?”

  “Don’t threaten me, Blackmore. I know what really happened to Philip.”

  Darien turned at the door. “And I know you and Philip were more than friends. You didn’t lead my father to Philip and Collin Jacobson be
cause of your outrage as his bride’s father but as a spurned lover.”

  Maddox paled and his loss of words would be so much more satisfying if it did not speak volumes as to Maddox’s guilt.

  “So, we both have much to lose if the truth about Philip’s death comes to light.” Darien said in the face of Maddox’s continued silence.

  “I want it done right away, then,” Maddox said, quickly recovering.

  “So do I. Make the arrangements. We’ll need a special license and a clergyman. I’ll not have my nephew involved even if he makes a sudden recovery. Understood?”

  “Fine.”

  “And one last thing. If you ever do anything to harm my daughter or Ivy, if I hear one whisper, one rumor, I will make sure your daughter is branded a whore and an adulteress. I’ll even have the marriage annulled. Do we understand each other?”

  Maddox bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

  Darien closed the door but gained no satisfaction in finally having the upper hand with Henry Maddox. Ivy had been right. Nothing good came out of discovering the truth about Philip’s death.

  I will post this letter when we have crossed the border into Scotland. There is no use in coming after me, Darien.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Darien slipped into the shadows of Robert’s room hoping to find Ivy and Melody among the gloom. His insides churned with the knowledge of what he must do, and he feared he would lose Ivy. His brother-in-law sat by the bed, his head bent. Lily stroked his collar-length hair, still more auburn than steel grey. Curtains had been closed to keep the room dim, but the open windows allowed the velvet drapes to twist and dance like ghosts waiting to invade the living.

  Robert remained unmoving in the bed and Darien would not be surprised if someone told him his nephew was dead. Darien almost closed the door, slipped from the room without interrupting the private moment between his sister and her husband. His own grief seemed paltry in comparison to their current gaping wound.

  The door squeaked and his sister turned.

  “Darien.” Lily strode toward him. “Father is ill? What happened? This morning I have to hear from Dr. Shipley that my father was not expected to live through the night?”

  “How is Robert?” he said, quietly studying the still bed, not wanting to face the added strain in Lily’s glazed expression. Darien had decided she should not be bothered with the burden of their father’s condition, her own current troubles being so great. But that was before he and Dr. Shipley were convinced that their father was dying.

  “Robert’s fever is breaking. He’ll be up and around by the end of the day.” His brother-in-law stood from his son’s bedside. Rand Fitzgerald rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders and squeezed. He met Darien’s gaze and the sorrow there told him his false optimism was for Lily’s benefit. “Any word on the culprit? Another group went out at first light to search the grounds and the village.”

  Darien shook his head no, and let his gaze land on Robert’s flushed face. Since he did not know where Jacobson was at the moment, he wasn’t lying. Darien hoped the bastard had truly escaped and had the good sense to stay hidden this time. If only Jacobson had never shown his face in the first place, Robert would not have been wounded. Darien might have been on a ship bound to anywhere with his wife and child, instead of watching two family members fight for their lives.

  His sister shook off her husband’s touch. “I need to speak with you, Darien. Walk with me to see father.”

  “Where is Ivy?” Darien dared not put off the confrontation any longer. “It’s urgent that I speak with her.”

  “That’s exactly what we must discuss. I am having a nursery prepared for Melody. I hope Ivy is at home gathering her things. A carriage took them both to your cottage last night.”

  “You have no right to interfere, Lily,” Darien shouted. How could his sister let Ivy out of her sight? He lowered his voice at the glare from Lily’s war-veteran husband who loomed threateningly at her back. But what stopped Darien from venting his frustration on his sister was the realization that he was in her son’s sickroom. He must hear her out. Their once thriving family would soon dwindle to just two. He wanted his sister on his side.

  “Forgive me. I love her. I know you were not around when Ivy and I were together, but I am at my best with her. Without her, I fall apart.”

  “I understand, Darien. I do, but these things are more complicated than one expects.” She glanced back at her husband. The man she had chosen over her family and been banished because of, lowered his head and returned to his son’s side.

  Lily squeezed Darien’s arm. “We want the same things, Darien, and I would not see you unhappy for anything in this world. Please wait for me a moment so we can speak outside.”

  Darien nodded.

  Lily returned to her husband, brushed back his hair and kissed him on the mouth. She then touched her lips against Robert’s forehead, pressed her palm against his cheek, no doubt checking his fever. “Let me know if there is any change. I feel I must see my father.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Of, course, Lil. I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I know. You always have.”

  Something significant exchanged between them, twisting another knife in Darien’s gut. Would he be able to have moments like that with Ivy? A silent understanding of a life lived together. Or at best, would he just be recounting the significant details of his life, of Melody’s, to a shadow of Ivy that he must keep safely guarded outside the gates of his public self? To consider that Ivy would not be a part of his life at all was unbearable.

  Lily grabbed Darien’s arm and steered him out of the room. The outside hall was strewn with dirty dishes, blankets and half-empty basins of water.

  “I’ll see to this,” he said of the mess, stunned that he suddenly felt as if it was his responsibility.

  “Do not bother. I have turned all the servants away. They have much to attend to with the guests and Father.”

  “You should have asked for help. You are as much of a member of this family as anyone, Lily.” Darien longed for the days when it was true. She had treated him like a child, and he was in comparison to her. Both she and Philip had protected him, coddled him, and now it was his turn to return the favor.

  “But I’m not the heir. I’m merely a woman. It’s all up to you, Darien. There is more than you know about Philip’s death.”

  “I know now.” Darien felt the weight of Philip’s letter in his pocket. Unfortunately, next to it was the other forgotten piece of paper. Only a few mornings ago he’d asked some questions and discovered by local custom that he and Ivy were already considered married. According to Hank, all they needed to do was provide a wedding breakfast for the entire village to make it official.

  “Why in the bloody hell was I the last to know Philip offed himself?” Darien balled his fist and bit his knuckle hard to check his temper.

  “We wanted to spare you.” His sister touched his shoulder but Darien shrugged off her intended comfort. “And you are so emotional.”

  He ground his teeth but swallowed his response. Unfortunately, she was right.

  “Mother only told me during her final days,” Lily continued. “She especially did not want you to suffer anymore than you already had.”

  “Did no one think I would do the correct thing? If I’d known the truth I would have married one of Maddox’s three girls years ago.” And he would have when he’d hated Ivy for taking up with Marcus, one of his closest friends. After letting himself love Ivy again, it seemed too cruel to have her snatched from him once more.

  “Would you have or would you have gone after Henry Maddox, creating a stir and possibly leaking the information? You seemed determined to ruin the family name. I don’t think the truth would have helped.”

  Darien put his hands on his head, stared at the enormous chandelier dominating the long hall lined with windows.

  “I don’t know what I would have done.” But Lily was right in the fact that he might have impulsi
vely challenged Maddox to a duel or thrashed him on a public thoroughfare. Darien still might. “Maddox should not win. He’s blackmailing us, Lily. That’s not legal.”

  “Do you have any idea what it would have done to mother to see Philip’s body mutilated, buried outside of town beneath a crossroads? She would not be able to leave her home without trudging over her own son’s grave.”

  “That wouldn’t have happened” Darien’s voice was hoarse. “Westhaven wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  Lily glanced down the hall, stood closer to Darien and lowered her voice. “If Henry Maddox chose to bring a case against the family for breach of contract, which he swore he would, part of the penalty would be Philip’s resting place. There would have been nothing anyone could have done to stop it. It’s all up to you, Darien. Do you want to take that risk?”

  Darien put his hand over his mouth, feeling physically ill. He had no choice in the matter and he prayed Ivy would see that.

  “I would think having a daughter would make your decision for you,” Lily’s voice coaxed. Darien was more sure of his family duty until his sister mentioned Melody.

  “Melody is Ivy’s daughter, as well.” Darien glared at his sister. Being a mother herself, how could she expect Ivy to give up her daughter?

  “And I know Ivy will want what’s best for her. She has the chance to be raised as an earl’s daughter. You can do so much more for her. Ivy will only be holding you both back.”

  “I can’t give her up again.”

  “She has chosen her path, hasn’t she? She cannot be received in polite society.”

  “I don’t care about polite society and never have.”

  “But it is different for a female. Melody deserves the chance to take her proper place among her peers if she so chooses. And if you can’t see what marrying Arianna will mean for Melody, think of Philip. I cannot bear the idea of Philip’s life remembered for one tragic mistake.”

  “Neither can I.” Darien hated the taste of the words in his mouth, but he knew the brutality of Old English law and was sure he was no match for it. A Grand Jury would likely have little sympathy for a wealthy aristocrat that found his privileged life intolerable. “I’ll do what must be done, but let me speak with Ivy first. I don’t want to lose her.”