“Really?” Ben nodded, impressed. “Well, it sounds like she might be your perfect match, then.”
She was. It wasn’t even a question any longer. But was that love strong enough to overcome his misgivings and her apparent lack of interest?
“But what do I do about it? She walked away.”
Ben shook his head. “Women are strange creatures. What they do isn’t always indicative of what they feel. And what they say is generally the opposite of what they mean and do.” He shook his head. “Frustrating.”
“So what are you saying?” Grant asked. For the first time in days, a spark of hope flared inside of him. “You think Emily might return my feelings, despite all her actions and words to the contrary?”
“I don’t know,” Ben admitted with a shrug. “But if I did love a woman, especially one like Emily Redgrave, I wouldn’t walk away without doing everything in my power to have her.”
“You mean tell her,” Grant said with a frown. “If I do that, there will be no going back.”
His brother got up and clasped a hand on his forearm. “Do you want to go back?”
Grant shook his head slowly as he held Ben’s gaze. “No. I just want her.”
“Then get her,” his brother said as he headed for the door. “Just go and get her.”
Lady Westfield poured tea into Emily’s cup, then her own. She set the pot down and leaned back. Emily shifted uncomfortably.
Confronting this woman had been so much easier in her mind than it was in reality. Especially when Lady Westfield was simply staring at her with those eyes that were so like Grant’s. Waiting, watching, devoid of telling emotion.
Was she a fool? Was she imagining things?
And what would happen if she was right about Lady Westfield?
“You seem troubled,” her ladyship said as she took a small sip of tea. Her gaze never left Emily’s face. “And I will admit that your request to meet with me this afternoon was very unexpected, though not unwelcome. Lady Allington, what is it I can do for you?”
Emily moved to pick up her tea, but when she lifted the cup, her hand was shaking so hard she sloshed hot liquid on the saucer. Holding back a curse, she set the cup down again and drew in a calming breath.
There would be no stalling.
“I have always had a great deal of respect for you, Lady Westfield,” she began, wincing when her voice shook as surely as her hand had. “In the years I have been acquainted with you, I have been drawn to your strength and composure.”
Lady Westfield’s brow arched. “You flatter me, child. I thank you for those kind words, but I’m still at a loss for why you needed to express them today.”
Emily sucked in a breath. “In the past weeks, I have begun to wonder if I feel a connection with you for a deeper reason.”
Emily clenched the chair arm, digging her nails into the heavy fabric. If only she could read Lady Westfield’s thoughts, it would be so much easier, but the lady’s eyes remained distant and cloaked.
“My son, you mean?”
Emily flinched. Somehow she’d hoped she wouldn’t be forced to face her troubling thoughts of Grant if she came here. But they followed her everywhere.
Lady Westfield smiled, though Emily hadn’t replied. “Though I was surprised when he arrived here last week with you in tow, I was also pleased. If you two are building some kind of bond, I certainly do not discourage his choice.” She tilted her head and there was a light…almost a challenging light in her stare. “Is that what you mean?”
Emily’s breath was harsher now. She could take that statement and back away from this encounter. She could claim Grant was her reason for coming and never ask the question she so longed to know the answer to.
Coward.
She shut her eyes. “I suppose my”—she searched for a word that didn’t give away too much to Lady Westfield or require any admissions on her own behalf—“acquaintance with your son could be part of the reason I feel this bond with you, but I think there is more to it than that. And I believe you know what I’m speaking about.”
Lady Westfield set her teacup down now and met Emily’s eyes evenly. “I’m afraid I’m not totally clear. What is it you wish to say to me?”
“What does the name Lady M mean to you?” Emily choked on the words, forcing them out when she desperately wanted to back away. Run as far as she could. Forget her suspicions.
The other woman’s lips parted. “Why, my husband used to call me Lady M. It was his private term of endearment to me. Grant must have mentioned that to you.”
Emily pursed her lips. Perhaps she was wrong, after all. She could see nothing in Lady Westfield’s behavior or countenance that would betray her secret. But Emily’s intuition nagged. If Lady Westfield wasn’t related to Lady M, then why was she covering her emotions? What would make her use that delicate skill?
“I mentioned it to him, actually,” Emily said softly. “I know a woman who also goes by the name Lady M.”
Lady Westfield’s smile softened. “Do you?”
Emily caught her breath. For a brief moment she saw a flash of strong emotion on the other woman’s face. Love and pride. Both directed at Emily. But there was no reason for this practical stranger to feel that way for her…unless she wasn’t a stranger at all.
Unless she had been following Emily’s every move for over five years.
Unless Emily’s intuition was entirely correct.
“You are her, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You are Lady M. You’re our Lady M.”
Lady Westfield’s eyes misted with tears. “I always told Charlie that one day one of you would determine the truth. And I wagered from the beginning that it would be you.”
Emily surged to her feet, her suddenly freezing hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You are—you are—”
Lady Westfield slowly stood up and reached to steady her. “I am, Emily.”
Emily watched as Lady Westfield’s—Lady M’s fingers curled around her hand. She squeezed and a flood of warmth filled Emily to her very toes. This was real, it wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. It was truly happening.
Her heart swelled with a wash of feeling that she’d longed for from her own family her entire life. Tears began to make their way down her cheeks and she didn’t even bother to swipe them away.
“Come here, my sweet girl,” Lady M said as she drew Emily into a hug.
For a long time, they simply held each other as Emily allowed the tears to flow freely and silently. This was Lady M. This was her mentor. The woman she had seen as a mother figure. The woman she had desperately wanted to impress, to make proud. And she was with her, really with her, after all these years.
“Sit down beside me,” Lady M finally said and led Emily to the settee. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and looked at her with a watery smile, tears sparkling in her eyes. “You must have questions for me.”
Emily chuckled. That was an understatement if ever there was one. A thousand different questions rushed through her mind, but one stood out from the rest.
“Does Grant know?”
Lady M leaned back and genuine surprise crossed her face. Then she smiled softly, as if she knew some secret Emily did not. “No. Grant is very protective of his family, as I’m sure you have seen. He has no idea of my true identity.”
Emily breathed a sigh of relief. If Grant had known all along and not told her, the pain would be too much. But the moment that relief passed, it was followed by a lurch of horror. Now she knew this secret. This huge secret she couldn’t keep from him.
“You must tell him.”
Lady M drew back a fraction and shook her head. “No, I cannot. He would go wild with worry. It is better if he never knows.”
“Like you thought it was better for us not to know we were chasing each other around like fools?” Emily asked, surprised by how sharp her tone was with this woman who she worshiped and adored. But the idea that she would keep such a thing from her son, that she would
refuse to offer him the respect of the truth after he had proven himself again and again, made Emily angry. Grant deserved more.
So much more.
Instead of responding to her snappish question with frustration of her own, Lady M patted her hand.
“You were both out of control, Emily. Surely you can see that now. We hoped if you each had a few weeks to investigate a ‘case’ with no danger that you would be placated. We never imagined you two would go off and uncover a treacherous plot against the Regent. But I don’t apologize for my reasoning. I know you don’t like that answer, but it is the truth. And I admit, I had my own, more selfish reasons.”
Emily’s brow wrinkled. “What reasons?”
“I have watched you for so very long.”
Lady M sighed as she brushed a lock of hair away from Emily’s forehead. The motherly gesture brought new tears to Emily’s eyes, but she blinked them away.
“I have cheered for your independence even when you strayed away from the rules of investigation and drove Charles mad. I have laughed at the scrapes you’ve managed to get yourself in and out of.” Her smile fell. “And when you were shot, I nearly died myself, awaiting the news of whether you would live. I wanted to go to you so very much. I have loved you, Emily, like I love my own daughters.”
Emily swallowed past the aching lump in her throat. “I…felt that. Even though we never spoke. I felt your love. I thought perhaps I imagined it.”
“You didn’t.” Lady M’s smile grew. “With all that feeling between us, is it wrong then that I wished for you to be my daughter in truth?”
Lady M’s words sunk into Emily’s soul and she sucked in a breath of shock. “You—you wanted us to grow close. You wanted Grant and I to—”
“To fall in love, as I believe you have, even though I hear you turned away from him.”
Emily’s eyes widened. Was nothing secret from this woman?
Lady M continued, impervious to her surprise. “To marry, as I hope you will. Yes, I admit that with all my heart. I do not regret that I threw you two together, especially when I see the way my son looks at you with such admiration, such emotion. Those are things he tried to lock away from his heart after that terrible incident last year that sent him into a spiral I feared he would never recover from.”
Emily nodded. “He told me.”
Lady M smiled. “Which proves what I am saying, my dear. I see you watch him with that fierce protectiveness, that light you once reserved only for Ana and Meredith, but it is multiplied now. You will stand beside him through anything. I know that about you.”
Vision blurring with shock and intense emotion, Emily somehow managed to stumble to her feet. She backed away from the shocking words from Lady M’s mouth. The ones that pinpointed all her secret hopes. All her hidden dreams and feelings.
But she couldn’t have them. For the one reason Lady M didn’t know. For the one fact that had destroyed her first marriage.
Lady M tilted her head. “But that is not why you came here, is it? And from the wild look in your eyes that I see now, the same one you always get right before you run, you won’t discuss my son with me any further.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. Dear God, this woman did know her so very well.
“And I don’t think you came here tonight to verify my identity either. You realized who I was a week ago when you were brought here after you were injured. You may not have wanted to admit it, but you knew in your heart.” Lady M pushed to her feet and interlaced her fingers in front of her. “So tell me, my dearest Emily, what is it that you did come here for? What do you need that you wouldn’t obtain with Charlie as a go-between?”
Emily swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She was nearly dizzy from all the confusion and emotion that flowed through her. But she settled her nerves.
“I—I want to leave London.”
Lady M’s smile faded. “Oh, Emily. Running away never solved anything.”
“I’m not running,” Emily insisted, though the denial was empty even to her own ears. “Despite what you think, I have nothing to run from.”
“My dear, you have been running your whole life.”
Emily flinched at that assessment, which was so true. She’d run from pain, run from the past, run from her fear. Only when she met Ana and Meredith and took on her role as spy had she felt like she belonged. But that had changed now, too.
Ana and Meredith had their husbands, brand new lives. And she was empty. Alone.
She shook away her self-pity. “And what about you? You’re lying to your own son, even though he deserves to hear the truth. Isn’t that running?”
Lady M pressed a finger to her lips and was silent long enough that Emily feared she had gone too far over the line. She hadn’t wanted to anger her superior, just make her understand that sometimes one did what one had to do. Emily didn’t agree with Lady M’s choices and Lady M might not understand hers.
“Perhaps you are correct in that, Emily.” Lady M shrugged. “Perhaps keeping my secret from my son is a way to hide. To protect myself from his reaction, even as I say I am protecting him. What say we strike a bargain?”
Emily looked at the other woman with caution. She wasn’t sure she liked the glint in Lady M’s eyes.
“A bargain?” she repeated slowly. “What kind of bargain?”
“I shall tell my son the truth about my identity…if you give him a chance. Look deep inside yourself, see your true feelings, and tell him what they are.”
Emily took a harsh breath and stared at Lady M with wide eyes.
“Love should be embraced, not feared, Emily.” The other woman shook her head. “Life is fleeting and I would not like to see you with regrets.”
With a sigh, Emily dipped her gaze away. Sometimes all she had were regrets. The idea that Grant could love her despite all her shortcomings was a bewitching one, but they had gone over and over the facts in the past. There were too many obstacles.
But if she agreed, Grant would have the truth about his mother. Which he deserved. She could leave with a clean conscience and the knowledge that she had given him that final gift.
“If I speak to him, will you give me cases outside of London?”
Lady M frowned. “If, after you talk to him, you still wish to leave, I will consider it.”
Emily pursed her lips. It wasn’t much of a bargain for her part. But finally, she nodded.
“Very well,” she whispered as she turned for the door. “I will make that bargain with you. Thank you for your advice. And I promise you I will take all of it into account.”
Lady M reached for her, took her hand, and squeezed gently. “Very good, my dear,” she said softly before she let her go. “Farewell.”
Chapter 21
Grant surged to his feet as Emily stormed into her parlor. Though he was standing in the middle of the room, she seemed not to notice him. He took the rare opportunity to examine her expression without the protective mask she always kept in place to keep those around her at arm’s length.
Her face was open and her emotions were reflected freely over every feature. And she was upset. Her frown pulled down with such anger and sadness and confusion that it tugged at him. It was even clearer in her jerky movements as she tossed her gloves onto the poor boy and poured herself a brimming tumbler of the best whiskey in her collection.
“Emily?”
She froze with the glass halfway to her lips, then turned to face him with almost painful slowness.
“Grant.” She breathed his name like she could hardly believe it. “What are you doing here?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t Benson tell you?”
She shook her head as a blush tinged her cheeks dark red. “No, I…er…didn’t allow him to get that far.” She looked at the tumbler. “Drink?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She set the glass aside and took a hesitant step toward him, almost like she was afraid to get too close. “Did she send you?”
“She?” Grant stared at her. “I have no idea who you mean.”
Relief crossed her features. “It’s nothing. Wh—Why are you here?”
He cleared his throat. He’d prepared a speech to recite to her when she came home, but seeing her so undone, so emotional, threw him off his plan. Now he wasn’t sure how to say what he felt. How to make her understand.
“Emily,” he began. “I know we said we would end our affair when our case ended. We vowed we wouldn’t allow emotion into the equation because there were too many things between us.”
She nodded and a flicker of sadness touched her expression. “Yes.”
He moved toward her another step, unable to resist. “But you can’t predict the heart. It isn’t possible. As much as I tried to fight it, to pretend it wasn’t happening, to shut it off…I fell in love with you.”
Her lips parted and a strangled sound of both pain and joy escaped her mouth. Emily covered her lips with her hand and stared at him without answering.
“I am in love with you, Emily,” he repeated, because he wasn’t certain she understood. Somehow he had thought she’d be in his arms by now.
“But all those things that kept you from wanting me,” she whispered. “They still exist.”
He shook his head. “I feared for your safety and believed I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. And I admit that I will always be nervous about the risks you take in the field, but I’ve seen so much evidence of your strength since we first formed this partnership. And I realize that part of loving you is trusting you. With your own life, as much as with mine. And I do.”
She turned away. “Please, Grant. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do.” He caught her elbow and turned her to face him. “I love you. And I want to marry you.”
A single, silent tear trickled down her cheek as Emily stared up at him blankly. Then she extracted her arms from his and paced away.
“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t.”
Grant asking her to be his wife should not have brought her such intense pleasure, and doing what was right and refusing his offer should not have brought her so much pain. It was inevitable. Yet Emily could have gone to her knees and howled, the refusal hurt so deeply.
Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] Page 22
