Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 1 of 2
Page 24
If he was adequate to the task. He certainly had failed Marion in that regard.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘For the kiss?’
‘For everything. Your kindness. To the girls.’ She patted his chest. ‘Most especially your kindness to me,’ she whispered shyly.
This was his congé, he realised with dismay.
‘You deem this a kindness?’ On his part it had been anything but kindness. Selfish lust was the best he could name it. Shame chilled him. ‘Your husband neglected you.’
‘My husband was an elderly gentleman when we married and his health was not good. And while he hoped for another son, he married me more as a caretaker of his daughters and his house than anything.’
‘An unpaid caretaker, I assume.’
She stiffened slightly, subtly drew back.
He pulled her close again. ‘I beg your pardon. Continue.’
The relief when she relaxed against him was wholly ridiculous, yet there it was.
‘My hopes of marriage had dwindled after my first Season. Men do not like females built on gargantuan proportions, especially when they have no claim to beauty or fortune.’
‘More fool them.’ He kissed the top of her head while admiring the lush bounty barely hidden beneath the sheets. His body hardened. ‘And if by beauty you mean the sort of insipidness women call pretty, that fades by the age of thirty, you should be glad. To me you are perfectly lovely.’
Her smile was a delight to behold, before she hid her face against his shoulder.
He waited for her to master her blushes and to continue her story, but he could not help smiling at her obvious pleasure.
Finally she glanced up at him. ‘The offer from Clifford was my last hope of having a family of my own, but unfortunately I did not live up to expectations.’
‘Expectations?’
‘Things he hoped to gain from our union. More sons. Social connections for his heir. My family stuck to the letter of the settlements, barely, but...’ she gave a small shrug ‘...vulgar is vulgar, and no one is required to welcome an outsider with open arms. When my husband died, I was not comfortable living with my stepson, so I took the girls and left.’
Something about her story stirred an understanding in his as yet soggy brain. ‘Who is your family?’
She stilled as if realising she had given away something she preferred to keep secret. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
It mattered. A widow she might be, but, and the parts came together swiftly, she was also a woman from the nobility. ‘What year did you come out?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘It is all in the past. I married down. I am persona non grata.’
She spoke calmly, but there was bewilderment there, too, and hurt. ‘Why not go back to your family when your husband died?’
‘My parents are gone. My brother might have taken me in, I suppose, but not the girls. I could not bear to leave them with Herbert and his wife. Their mother was a housemaid. Herbert’s wife would have turned them into servants.’
Her loyalty to her stepdaughters deepened his admiration. ‘The girls are fortunate to have you.’
‘You don’t have children, do you?’
To his endless sorrow.
‘Adam? Do you have a child?’
Blast. He had hesitated a moment too long. ‘My wife died while expecting our first child.’ He spoke clinically, as he always did, though the pain of it was no less raw than it had been when it happened. That and the guilt.
‘To lose a wife and baby is a terrible loss.’
A terrible sense of failure. ‘I didn’t know she was with child until after she died. I don’t think she knew it, either, or I am sure she would not have risked...’ He could not put into words the suspicion that had hung in his mind all these years.
‘What happened to her?’
‘I’d accepted an invitation to a house party in the country. For both of us. There was to be a boat race. I like to row. At the last minute, she decided she wanted to see a play in town with some friends. I was furious at the change of our plan.’ He sighed. ‘My plan. She insisted that if I loved her I would go to the play with her. I told her to stay in town and see her stupid play with her stupid friends. Did I tell you we were ridiculously young when we wed? Anyway, I went off in the closed carriage, thinking I would send it back for her and she could come when she wished. Or not.’
‘Did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Apparently, she changed her mind. Later that afternoon she had my phaeton put to, intending to surprise me. It was so like her to do something outrageous.’ It had been her attraction from the very beginning. She’d infuriate him, then do something completely unexpected and make him mad for her all over again. ‘She was an excellent whip, but the team was young and scarcely broken in. I told her not to attempt to take them out without me. I might as well have told her not to breathe. I wished to God I’d never bought them. She went off the road about ten miles from London. The fall broke her neck.’
He hadn’t seen the accident scene. He’d been called to a nearby inn to identify her body. That was when the doctor had told him he suspected she’d been pregnant. It had been a bitter blow.
‘You blame yourself.’
‘I should have known better than to storm off that way. I should have guessed she’d come after me in some dramatic gesture.’ He couldn’t help his slight smile at the thought. Then he winced. ‘Her father was pretty clear that I had failed in my husbandly duty to keep my young wife safe.’
She rose up on her elbow and looked down into his face. ‘You feel guilty.’
‘Hellishly guilty.’
‘Oh, Adam. She also made choices that day.’
The sympathy in her voice made speech difficult. He didn’t deserve sympathy. His hand curled into a fist.
‘While she was railing at me for not loving her enough, I had this strange feeling she was right. That our marriage was a mistake. Afterwards I realised it was because I wanted my own way. Unforgivable selfishness.’
Nor did he ever again want direct responsibility for another person’s welfare. His duty to the Portmaine estate was quite enough. ‘So in answer to your question, no, I do not have children. And nor do I want them.’
She sighed and he knew he had disappointed her with his last statement. But at least he’d been truthful.
Reasonably truthful, because somehow these past few days with this woman made him want things he knew he didn’t deserve. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so angry. At himself. At Marion.
He swept her hair back from her face. ‘You know, that is the first time I really talked about what happened. At least, how I felt about it. Thank you for being such a good listener.’
Chapter Seven
Surprised by the gratitude in his voice, Cassie smiled at him. He had listened to her, too. Yet she had not told him everything. He had asked her about who might mean her harm. Offered her aid. The longing to share her burdens was an ache in her chest. If she had learned one thing these past few days, she had learned Adam was an honourable man and not the sort to take advantage of his power. She would trust him with her life. He deserved the truth.
‘My stepson found us yesterday. He is insisting I return the girls home.’
His breathing changed. His eyes became watchful. ‘You think he set the fire.’ His voice sounded harsh. ‘I’ll swear out a warrant against him for arson—’
‘There is no proof. And he is the girls’ only family.’
Adam glowered. ‘You are their family.’
‘Please, Adam. I do not want to involve the authorities. He is their legal guardian and I took them without permission. The authorities will take his part. If you drive us to catch a
stagecoach tomorrow as you promised, we can go somewhere he cannot find us.’
‘I can do better than that. Come home with me.’ He looked startled. As if he had surprised himself as well as her.
‘You can’t mean it.’
‘I do. Indeed I do,’ he said firmly. ‘Cassie, there is something I must tell you—’
Loud banging echoed through the house. The doorbell clanged. Someone was at the front door.
‘Oh, sweet periwinkles.’ She sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, her heart thundering. ‘Can it be Herbert?’
Adam shot out of bed and looked out of the window. ‘No carriage. You think it might be him?’
‘I don’t know. He went off to find a magistrate. I thought it would take him a couple of days at least. Time enough for us to be far away.’
The clanging came again. The banging louder.
Adam pulled on his shirt and breeches. ‘Wait here.’
Her heart thundered as she listened to his footsteps on the stairs. If it was Herbert with a magistrate, what could Adam do? If he tried to stop them from searching the house, he might be charged with aiding a fugitive. At the very best, he would lose his position. Better she face the music than get Adam into serious trouble. All Herbert wanted was his sisters’ money. It was nothing compared to a man’s future.
She wrapped herself in the dressing gown she found cast over a chair and crept down the stairs to the sound of continued knocking. Why hadn’t Adam opened the door? When she reached the bottom step, Adam emerged from the library. He shook his head at her. ‘A man alone. Stay out of sight.’
She moved into the shadows.
He pulled open the door. ‘What the devil do you mean, banging on my door at this time of night? It had better be something important.’
He sounded so autocratic she could almost believe he owned the house.
A red-faced Herbert shoved his way in. ‘Where is she?’ he shouted.
‘Where is who?’ Adam asked coolly. ‘And who the devil are you?’
‘Norton. Herbert Norton.’ Herbert flourished his card. ‘Be so good as to rouse Graystone at once. I know Lady Cassandra is here with my sisters. I followed their footprints from the cottage. I demand their return.’
Adam’s shoulders stiffened. His back was all she could see of him in the light from the branch of candles he held, but she sensed his shock. ‘Lady Cassandra?’ Heard it in his voice.
Cassie stifled a groan. She hadn’t given a thought to Herbert using her title, but then he liked to consider himself part of the nobility by association. It was another of the reasons he’d insisted she live under his roof. He liked trotting her out to impress his friends with important relations.
‘My stepmother. Well, fellow! Are you going to take up my card?’
‘No,’ Adam said.
Cassie could not stifle her gasp.
Herbert must have heard her because his gaze sought her out. ‘Ah, there you are, madam.’ He curled his lip. ‘I might have guessed you’d worm your way in to some chap’s bed.’
Adam’s fist crashed into his belly. Herbert’s knees sagged. Adam struck him on the jaw. He sank to his knees cradling his face. ‘Ouch.’
Fists clenched, Adam loomed over him and she feared he would strike again.
Cassie stepped forward and caught his arm. ‘Adam, please.’ She glanced up the stairs. ‘The girls...’
‘I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head about a lady beneath my roof or face the consequences,’ Adam said, breathing hard.
‘The lady is wearing your—’ Herbert put an arm up and cringed away when Adam clenched his fist. He shuffled back on his rear, until his back met the wall. ‘You have no right to keep my sisters here,’ he said truculently, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at his lip. ‘I am their guardian. That...’ He gave Adam a wary glance. ‘That woman—’ he pointed at Cassie ‘—stole them from under my roof, along with other valuable items. You will hand over my sisters if you know what is good for you.’
Cassie glared down at Herbert. ‘Your wife threatened them with a beating.’
Adam clenched his fists again.
Herbert didn’t seem to notice the effect of his words. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child. My father indulged those girls. Lucy was rude to my wife.’
‘Bridget called Diana a good-for-nothing penniless orphan. Is it any wonder her sister responded as she did?’
‘She needs to learn her place,’ Herbert responded.
Cassie was glad Adam had knocked him down. But Herbert had the law on his side. If she did not allow the girls to go with him, he would not hesitate to bring the authorities down upon them. And she could not let them go alone.
‘Very well. I will go with you. But I will have your word as a gentleman that there will no more beatings or deprivations for Lucy and Diana.’
‘I agree.’
Adam gazed at her, his face bleak. ‘You might have died in that fire. How can you think of trusting the word of such a cur?’
Herbert flushed red. ‘Fire? Nothing to do with me, old chap.’
‘Liar.’ Adam glanced down at Herbert’s feet. ‘Yours were the footprints I saw in the snow and if I’m not mistaken...’ He bent and picked something from the leg of Herbert’s breeches. ‘Glass. From the lantern you broke.’
‘I must have picked it up when I went to the cottage tonight.’
‘Hardly likely. Glass cannot fly up from the ground and embed itself at the knee.’
‘Who is going to take the word of a servant against that of a gentleman?’ Herbert said, looking down his nose. ‘Seems to me you would do better to go along with me, or risk losing your job.’
Cassie’s stomach fell away. ‘Adam, this is not your concern.’
‘Oh, I think it is,’ he said. ‘Very much so. This man committed a crime. And I mean to see him punished.’
‘You, sir?’ Herbert spluttered. ‘Just who do you think you are?’
‘I am Viscount Graystone. My father is the Earl of Portmaine. Should my father learn you burnt down a building on his property, he will demand justice.’
Graystone? He could not be... Why had he lied to her all this time? She backed away. ‘Adam?’
But he was not looking at her; he was glaring at Herbert, who sagged back against the wall.
‘I don’t believe you,’ Herbert said, eyes wide. ‘The heir to an earldom doesn’t open doors.’
‘This one does.’
‘Adam?’ Cassie repeated.
‘I’m sorry, Cassie. I was about to tell you right when this idiot banged on the door.’ He glared at Herbert. ‘What do you have to say for yourself now?’
Herbert dabbed at his brow. ‘I—I beg your lordship’s pardon. Had I known, I would never have—’
‘You, sir, are a bully and a coward and you will leave my house at once. Cassie, do you want me to have charges laid against this fellow?’
The brusque man was back. And for a moment it felt good to contemplate Herbert’s punishment. But he was still a part of her family. Herbert was an idiot. Led around by the nose by his unpleasant wife and his overweening ambition to be more than he was.
‘Lady Cassandra,’ Herbert said, trying to smile ingratiatingly and failing miserably. He wrung his hands. ‘It was all a misunderstanding. I’ll do anything. Sign guardianship of my sisters over to you, if you wish.’
‘I suppose I could be persuaded to ask Lord Graystone not to lay charges,’ she said slowly, seeing a glimmer of hope. ‘If you sign over guardianship of the girls and swear in writing that when I left your home I took nothing that did not belong to me.’ She glanced at Adam. ‘If you think Lord Portmaine would agree, my lord?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Herbert said quickly.
‘And you will sign
over the girls’ allowance into Lord Graystone’s care,’ she added.
‘What?’ Herbert’s face blanched.
‘Starting now, since I assume all that has come before is gone.’
He swallowed.
Adam tugged him up by the collar. ‘Well?’
‘All right. All right.’
He and Adam disappeared into the library. Cassie slumped into a hall chair. Adam was Graystone. It made sense. The story of his wife. Him owning two carriages. She would have seen it if she hadn’t felt his pain so much as he told his story. Why had he lied?
She recalled their first meeting. She’d assumed he was a servant and he hadn’t denied it. But he had given a false name. Likely he was regularly importuned by women seeking to marry a well-heeled and titled widower, while he remained true to his dead wife. Poor Adam. Well she would not make one of their number. She cared for him too much.
A few moments later, a chastened Herbert left by the front door. He slid a glance in her direction as if he would speak, but one look at Adam’s fierce expression had him scuttling out. Adam threw the bolts home. ‘He won’t give you any more trouble. I had him admit in writing to setting the fire. The girls’ allowance will come to you, though it seems a paltry enough sum.’
‘Thank you. It will be all we need. But, Adam—I mean, Lord Graystone, I must apologise—’
‘None of that,’ Adam said gruffly. ‘Cassie, darling Cassie, I hope you don’t think less of me, because of the title. Believe me, I was about to tell you—’
A sound on the stairs made her look up. Two little girls were peering over the balustrade. When they realised she’d seen them, they ran down and flung their arms around her. ‘Do we have to go back and live with Herbert and Bridget?’ Lucy asked, her eyes over-bright.
Cassie hugged the girls close. ‘Not if you do not wish it.’
‘We want to stay with you, Mama,’ Lucy said.
‘And you, Mr Royston,’ Diana added.
Adam’s expression changed. Tenderness altered his harsh face into endearing handsomeness. He looked so lovely standing there looking down at the girls and there was such longing in his face. He glanced over at Cassie. ‘Would you, Cassie?’ he asked. ‘Would you consider staying with me after I lied to you?’