Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series)

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Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) Page 40

by Holt, Cheryl


  He faced her, looking smug and cocky and confident, and she braced for the onslaught. But just as she expected he’d speak to her, he turned to the guests instead.

  “Every bad rumor you’ve heard about me is true,”he told them. “Last winter, I gambled with her brother, Hedley, and I won Bramble Bay from him. When I came to take possession of the estate, I didn’t know he had a sister. I was instantly smitten.”

  “You were not,”she huffed.

  “I was,”he asserted. “I seduced her and ruined her.”

  “Mr. Sinclair!”the vicar chided. “Mind your tongue. This is a house of worship.”

  John ignored the warning. “I enjoyed myself, too.”

  “Be silent!”she fumed.

  “I’m a cad; I admit it”—he shot her a hot, searing look—“so I didn’t suppose I should wed her. I’m not much of a catch—”

  “No, you’re not,”she agreed.

  “—and I decided she’d be better off without me. I signed over the deed to Bramble Bay so she’d own it and could keep it safe from her brother. All of you know what a wastrel he is.” There were nods all around. “Then I went to France.”

  “You left me at a coaching inn! You rode off without a goodbye.”

  He grinned out at the guests. “Has it been mentioned that I’m a scoundrel? I believe it has.” Everyone was nodding again. “A few days ago, my brothers arrived to inform me that I’d created more havoc than I realized. For you see, Sarah Teasdale is increasing with my child.”

  “You wretch!”Sarah wailed. “Is there any humiliating thing you won’t say?”

  “Some of you may have heard that my father is Charles Sinclair, Lord Trent.” At the news, numerous women gasped. “So you’re aware of my inherited penchant for low behavior. My brothers thought I should turn over a new leaf.”

  Sarah glowered. “You’re not turning over any leaves with me, you despicable rogue.”

  He shrugged to his audience. “Once I learned of her condition, I couldn’t let her marry Mr. Fishburn, could I?” The congregants shook their heads. “I had to stop the wedding to keep her from making a ghastly mistake—and to do this.”

  Sarah was wary, terrified of what he planned, and stunned when he dropped to a knee. He took her hand and smiled up at her.

  “I love you, Sarah Teasdale. Will you marry me?”

  “What?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “No, I won’t!”she hissed.

  “And why not? The entire town knows you’re disgraced, and I’m begging you to wed. How can you refuse me? What will your neighbors say?”

  “They’ll say I dodged a bullet!”

  “Perhaps, but what if they’re wrong? What if I’m precisely what you need most in the whole world?”

  “You’re embarrassing me. Get up.”

  “Not until I have my answer.”

  “My answer is no. Now get up.”

  She grabbed his arm and tried to raise him to his feet, but he was the most obstinate man who’d ever lived. He wouldn’t oblige her.

  “Tell me you never loved me,”he murmured. “Tell me you don’t love me now.”

  To her horror, tears welled into her eyes. She had worshipped him, had thought he walked on water, that he was amazing and charismatic and dynamic and she could have him for her own.

  But he never let anyone be close, and she wouldn’t tether herself to someone who didn’t want her, who would never need her. With Mildred and Hedley, her life had been a tedious slog of not belonging, not fitting in.

  She was making her own choices, building her own family, and she could pick any arrangement she wished. She chose companionship and permanence and commitment. What she didn’t choose was turmoil and disloyalty and disregard.

  He brought every awful thing in spades, and she couldn’t imagine carrying on a day to day existence in the midst of so much drama and upheaval. With him, there would never be a moment of peace or tranquility or even a bit of calm.

  He thrived on violence and lies and deception. If he promised himself to her, how could she believe him? Would he even stay? He’d likely speak vows, then stroll out the door and never come back. Where was the benefit in that?

  “Don’t you dare start crying,”he said. “You know I can’t bear it when you’re sad.”

  “Then don’t do this to me.”

  “What should I do instead? Should I leave you to that old reprobate who would steal your property from you? Non, chérie, I cannot allow it to happen.”

  “You’re asking too much of me.”

  “Am I? I don’t think I’m asking nearly enough.”

  “I’m so confused,”she moaned. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “I want you to marry me—right here, right now. I want you to love me forever so I will always be yours. I want to sail my ship into the bay outside Bramble Bay Manor, to look up at the parlor and see a candle burning in the window just for me. I want to know you are waiting. I want to know that I am welcomed home.”

  The pretty speech rattled her. A few of the tears that had threatened slid down her cheeks. What woman could remain unaffected by such endearing words? Could she?

  “Have me, Sarah.” He kissed the center of her palm. “Let me be your husband. Let me be a father to this child we’ve created. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  Her uncertainty increased, and she took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. He was adept at manipulating her, at bending her to his will, and he was professing sentiment she’d been yearning to hear. Yet how could she trust him?

  “You can’t mean it,”she muttered. “You can’t possibly.”

  “Why would you say so? In France, I would stand on the ramparts of my castle and stare out toward England. I would picture you on the other side of the water. It seemed as if you were calling to me.”

  She frowned. “I did that, too.”

  “While I was there, guess what I realized?”

  “What?”

  “Without you, I’m nothing at all.”

  “Please get up,”she said again. She pulled on his wrist, and this time, he obeyed.

  He towered over her, looking wonderful and magnificent and just as dashing as he’d been that very first day out on the road.

  She was deluged by happy memories. When she was with him, she felt vibrant and electrically alive. She would have killed for him. She would have died for him. How had she forgotten his potent effect? How had that joy slipped away?

  The church door opened again, and three women entered. As they stepped from the dark vestibule, Sarah was stunned to see it was Fanny, Helen, and Harriet. There were two men with them, Fanny’s husband Michael and their brother Phillip. His wife Anne had accompanied them, too.

  The group halted, taking in the odd scene, and Fanny asked, “We’re not too late, are we?”

  “No,”Lord Westwood said. “You haven’t missed it. In fact, we’re still trying to determine whether it will occur or not.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,”Fanny scoffed. “Of course it’s going to occur. We won’t accept any other ending.” She scowled at her sisters. “Will we?”

  “No,”the twins replied together.

  Lord Westwood explained, “Miss Teasdale isn’t too keen on having him as a husband.”

  “I can hardly blame her,”Fanny retorted. “He is Charles’s son after all, but he’s changing his ways.” She glared at John. “Aren’t you?”

  The three sisters marched up the aisle, the others trailing after them. They stopped and stood with Raven and Caroline, all except for Harriet who walked to John.

  “You promised to behave better,”she scolded.

  “I went to France because I thought it was best for her.”

  “You left her alone and in trouble.”

  He shrugged, actually looking abashed. “I hadn’t been informed of her condition, and I came as soon as your husband notified me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. You’re improving
already. I knew there was hope for you.” She stared at Sarah. “Has he proposed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Down on one knee, humbled and contrite?”

  “Well…down on one knee. I don’t suppose he’s ever been humble or contrite.”

  “No, I don’t suppose he has,”Harriet agreed. “If he’s proposed, what is the problem?”

  “I’m afraid he won’t stay with me, that he won’t love me, that he doesn’t mean it.”

  “I can’t force him to love you,”Harriet firmly stated, “but he’ll stay. Won’t you, John? I’m demanding it of you. What is your answer?”

  “I can’t refuse you, Harriet.”

  “No, you can’t.” Harriet smiled at Sarah. “He’ll stay, Sarah. Always. I swear it to you.”

  “Until my dying day, chérie,”John vowed. “I will love you ‘til I draw my last breath.”

  His siblings approached—Fanny, Helen, Phillip—so they were behind him. Tristan and James Harcourt—his other siblings—came, too. John peered over his shoulder at them, then at Sarah.

  “My family is here, Sarah. They have given me their blessing, so I ask you in front of them. How will you reply? Will you have me?”

  Sarah gazed at John, surrounded by the siblings he’d never wanted and had declined to claim. He was one of them now, their bond blossoming, and over the years, it would continue to grow.

  She looked over at Caroline, snuggled with her darling Raven Hook.

  She remembered the prior summer when she’d been so happy, so filled with elation she could have burst.

  John, Jean Pierre could make a woman feel that sort of joy. He could make a woman feel special and unique. He’d offered himself to her, with his family looking on. How could she say no?

  “Ask me again,”she told him.

  He dropped to a knee and clasped her hand. “My dearest, Sarah, will you marry me. Will you have me?”

  “Yes, my dearest, Jean Pierre. I will have you forever. I will have you ‘til my dying day.”

  He paused for a moment, then pushed to his feet. He grinned his devil’s grin.

  “I knew I could convince you.”

  She snorted with disgust. “Oh, you’re the worst.”

  “Yes, I am, but you’re very, very lucky.”

  “Why is that?’

  “Because I’m yours, and you’ll never be shed of me.”

  “You’re mine,”she murmured. “I like the sound of it.”

  “So…can we get married? How many more times must I ask?”

  “No more times.” Sarah nodded, satisfied and contented and finally at the spot where she’d always belonged. “Yes, Jean Pierre, we can get married. Right here. Right now.”

  He led her to the altar, as the guests in the pews began to cheer.

  EPILOGUE

  “You didn’t attend Fanny’s anniversary party.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Charles stared across his desk at Phillip. They were in Charles’s library, having a companionable brandy. He’d been out of town, and upon arriving back in the city, his initial act had been to invite Phillip to visit.

  He sipped his drink and studied his oldest child, being constantly surprised by how they could be so similar but so different.

  Phillip was kind and generous and noble. He possessed a sense of duty and loyalty that mystified Charles, that exasperated him but that made him proud, too. He was glad he’d sired such a fine man, but he attributed Phillip’s stellar characteristics to the grandparents who’d raised him. Charles had had naught to do with it.

  He knew he should feel more of a bond with his children, but he didn’t. He and Phillip had a relationship because Phillip pursued it, because Phillip insisted on it. If the situation had been left to Charles, no connection would have been considered.

  “I was going to come and fetch you,”Phillip complained. “I’d have dragged you over to Fanny’s whether you agreed to attend or not.”

  “I was in Scotland.”

  “On purpose? So you wouldn’t have to socialize?”

  “Perhaps,”Charles admitted. He’d deliberately traveled so as to miss the event.

  “You’re a wretch, Charles.”

  “I’m cognizant of my faults. I don’t need you enumerating them.”

  “Fanny took it as an insult. She said she didn’t, but it was obvious she was hurt.”

  “I’ll send her a gift to smooth over her upset.”

  “She doesn’t want…things from you. She wanted you at her party—in the flesh. Though why she bothers—why any of us bothers—is beyond me.”

  Charles narrowed his gaze. “Are we quarreling?”

  “I know better. It’s a waste of energy to quarrel with you.”

  “Yes, it is. And to scold. Please don’t.”

  If he was in the mood to be scolded, he’d dine in and have supper with his wife.

  “Helen and Harriet were aggravated too,”Phillip said.

  “I guess I’ll be buying more than one gift.”

  Phillip rolled his eyes. “Would you stop it? They’re fascinated by you. Be nicer to them.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Not that you deserve to be apprised, but they’re both increasing. They spent the entire evening waiting for you to arrive so they could tell you.”

  “Is this your method of informing me that I’m about to be a grandfather again? You’re aware of how I hate the news. It makes me feel so old.”

  “Everyone gets old, Charles. Even you.”

  “Unfortunately.” He sighed. “I wish I was still twenty-five. That was a good year for me. I really enjoyed myself.”

  “Ha!”Phillip scoffed. “You caused too much mischief. The world is a better place, having age and reason slow you down. We’re all grateful that you’re not young anymore.”

  “When are the babies due?”

  “Late summer or early fall.”

  He was pensive, pondering his daughters and the children they were having.

  He wasn’t a family man, had never aspired to being a father. It was so strange to be nearing fifty, to suddenly have offspring popping into his life.

  He was perplexed by the changes and couldn’t figure out what role he should play in their lives. Most times, he didn’t think he wanted to have a role. But other times, he was delighted to be claimed by them.

  If he was honest with himself, he was lonely. He owned several dozen homes, was rich as Croesus, could go anywhere and do anything. Yet he was always alone, and all those houses were so bloody empty.

  “How was Jean Pierre’s wedding?”he asked.

  “As peculiar as I could have predicted. Nothing with Jean Pierre is easy or normal. He’s like you that way.”

  “But he married our Miss Teasdale?”

  “Oh, yes. He married her. I’m not sure if he came to the altar willingly. He said he was happy to proceed, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that James and Tristan forced him with a pistol aimed at his back.”

  “Still though, he did the right thing.”

  “Unlike some other Sinclair males I could mention.”

  Phillip had tried to convince Charles to ride with him to Bramble Bay for the ceremony. Charles had actually considered it, but in the end, he hadn’t gone. Oddly, he regretted it and wished Phillip had been a little more adamant.

  “I was wed when I was seventeen,”Charles explained. “I could hardly have attached myself to any of my paramours.”

  “Don’t remind me,”Phillip huffed. “My mother was one of your first conquests, remember?”

  “I’ve always loved women—and there are so many of them. They’re all so pretty and too eager to accommodate a wealthy man like me.”

  “No, you love the chase, the pursuit and the temptation. Once you succeed in getting what you’re after, you grow bored and leave.”

  “I suppose you could describe it like that.”

  Occasionally, he thought of those impetuous days when he’d been wild and carefree and negl
igent. He’d perpetrated untold misery, but he’d relished every minute of that era and wouldn’t apologize for his behavior.

  Age had mellowed his worst habits. He kept mistresses now. They were experienced trollops who were paid for their services and had no reputations that could be ruined. He was more discreet and determined not to sire more children. He hadn’t in years.

  “What is your opinion of Jean Pierre?”he asked. “He’s quite amazing, isn’t he?”

  “He’s exactly like you, which I wouldn’t view as amazing.”

  “When you realize what he endured as a boy, he turned out remarkably well.”

  “He did,”Phillip agreed. “Sarah will have her baby just before Helen and Harriet have theirs. How many grandchildren will that be for you? Seven? Eight? Two from Fanny. Two from me. One each from the twins—unless they stay true to form and bear twins themselves.”

  Charles snorted with disgust. “You’re cruel to twist the knife, Phillip.”

  “I simply like you to recall that you’re mortal.”

  “Trust me. I always recall.”

  He frequently wondered—if his father hadn’t made him wed so young, if his father had picked someone other than Susan—would Charles have been happy? Would he have tamped down his conduct?

  Might he instead have married for love and had a fine life with a sweet-tempered wife? Or would he still have walked the scoundrel’s road?

  He was fairly sure he’d have been an awful husband to any bride thrown into his path. He was fairly sure he’d have been a libertine no matter what.

  “I have something for you.” He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a letter and slid it across. “It arrived while I was away.”

  “Susan didn’t burn it?”

  “You know my butler collects the mail and hides my correspondence.”

  Phillip studied the handwriting on the front. “Need I ask what it’s about?”

  “No.”

  Phillip flicked at the seal and read the words that had been penned. “Another daughter? Named Mary?”

  “It could be.”

  “Do you remember the mother or the town? Can you give me a clue about her?”

 

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