by Linda Sole
Somewhere along the line he’d lost himself. He wasn’t sure who he was or where he belonged at this point in time. A part of him wanted to be with Constance and forget the rest – but didn’t she deserve more?
She needed a man, who could love her, as she loved him. Moraven knew that she cared for him but was that enough? Constance had stolen his purse but she was honest and decent and modest. He’d wronged her by taking her virginity but there was nothing he could do about that now. Yet perhaps it might not matter. She might still have a chance of the kind of life she deserved with someone else.
Jonathan South was in love with her. He was very ill but with care and devotion he would probably recover – and he would be grateful to his nurse. He would offer marriage and it might be best for Constance if she accepted him. How would he feel if she accepted?
It was too difficult a question for the moment. Moraven closed his eyes. He felt as if Delilah had cut off his hair, his strength drained away. He needed to sleep. He would talk to Constance later.
Constance divided her day between watching the soup and watching Jonathan sleep. She had managed to give him two doses of his medicine and she thought it had eased him. He certainly seemed a little easier, not quite as hot as he’d been earlier.
It was just before dinner that she went up and found him awake.
‘How do you feel?’ she asked, approaching the bed. ‘Is the pain bad?’
‘Pretty bad,’ he admitted and grimaced. ‘No, I don’t want laudanum. I would prefer to talk to you, Constance.’
‘I have left Heloise watching the soup. I made chicken broth today and if you could manage a little it might help you – but if you would prefer a glass of milk I shall not force you to eat yet.’
‘I would prefer some brandy,’ he said and smiled at her weakly. ‘I fear I have been a lot of trouble to you, Constance?’
‘Not at all. I am happy to care for you. You helped to save me from that man. I shudder to think where I might be now had you not acted as you did. You must have known what a risk you ran?’
‘Renard will kill me if he finds me.’
‘Renard is dead. One of Moraven’s men killed him.’
‘I am glad, because it means you are safe.’
‘Yes, but you must not worry about me. You have to get well.’ Constance hesitated, then, ‘I asked you before if I could send for someone for you?’
‘My mother died three years ago. I quarrelled with my father – there is no one else that matters.’
‘Would he not forgive you?’
‘I doubt it – but it is of no concern. Only one person is important to me now – that person is you, Constance. You know I love you…’
‘You should not…’ her cheeks heated. ‘I am happy to care for you, but you do not need to say such things…’
She was close to him by the bed. He reached out for her hand.
‘I know that I shall not live many weeks. I could never be a husband to you, Constance – but if you would let me take care of you, provide for the future. Marry me. Everything I have would be yours. It is not the fortune that might have been mine had I not quarrelled with my father but I have some money and I want you to have it when I’ve gone.’
‘No, please do not,’ she begged. ‘There is no need. I am happy to nurse you. I do not need payment. Believe me, I want nothing from you.’
‘But I want to care for you. I want to know that you are safe.’
‘It is kind and sweet of you to think of it but…’
‘Perhaps you should consider it, Constance.’
Moraven’s words shocked her and she turned to look at him, feeling the colour drain from her face as her blood ran cold.
He could not mean it? Surely he could not mean it. Had that night meant nothing to him? She had given him all the love that was in her but now he was telling her to marry another man.
‘Listen to Moraven,’ Jonathan pleaded, his damp hand clutching at her. ‘Please, for my sake if not your own.’
‘You should listen to him,’ Moraven said. ‘Heloise sent me to tell you that the soup is ready…’ he turned and left without another word.
Jonathan clutched at her hand. ‘I know you don’t love me, you love him, but he can never love you, Constance. You have no idea of the things he’s done, the stories people say of him. Many houses are closed to him in London. I can give you an honourable name and my love for as long as I live. Please, at least say you will consider it?’
‘You are feverish again. You must rest. Give me a little time, sir. I shall answer you as soon as I am able.’
‘I want to make you safe,’ he said but his eyes had closed and his fingers slid away from her hand.
Constance saw that he was sleeping and left him to rest.
She walked slowly down to the kitchen. Her heart felt as if it might split in two but she held back her tears. She would not beg Moraven to stay with her if he wished to go. He must know that she loved him, but it seemed that her love was not enough.
He was standing near the window looking out when she entered the room. She knew he was aware of her but he did not turn immediately.
‘I must go to England. I must leave tonight,’ he said without looking at her. ‘I have business. I’m not sure how long it will take.’
‘Of course you must finish your business. It is why you came here. We intruded into your life and must be grateful for the time you gave us.’
He whirled round then, his eyes dark and anguished. ‘I have told you before. It does not suit you to be meek, Constance. I prefer the adventuress who stole my purse.’
‘Naturally. She could never mean anything to you, could she? You could leave her when you chose and return if it pleased you, but another softer Constance might prove a burden to you. Please believe me when I tell you that you owe me nothing.’
‘I know what I did and what I promised,’ he grated harshly. ‘I want you, Constance, believe me. It is costing me to leave you here with him but he cannot travel and I know you would not desert him. Besides, he can give you far more than I ever could. I do not believe I could make you happy.’
‘That should be for me to decide,’ Constance replied, raising her head proudly. ‘I would never try to hold you knowing you wanted to be free. Nothing has changed. My life is the same as it was. I shall nurse Jonathan until he no longer needs me and then…’
His gaze arrowed in on her face as she hesitated. ‘Then, what will you do?’
‘Who knows?’ She laughed carelessly. ‘I shall go where life leads me. Perhaps I shall continue my masquerade. I dare say I could find a lover if I chose, perhaps more than one.’
‘Do not talk as if you were a wanton.’ His face darkened. ‘You are telling me I have ruined you so that your reputation no longer matters.’
‘Had I not gone to your room and lain on your bed it would not have happened. I do not blame you for that night – nor am I bitter. You showed me a sweetness in life I had not known. If I cannot share such pleasures with you I may find someone else.'
He glared at her as she set about filling soup bowls, slicing bread and bringing hot meat pies from the oven. What he might have said next was lost as Heloise entered the room.
‘You must be hungry. Please eat something for your journey.’
‘I have lost my appetite. Share your food with your patient. I am sure he will oblige you in your new life – should he survive.’
He walked from the room and Constance heard the clatter of his boots as he ran up stairs. She sat down at the table and dipped her spoon into the soup. It tasted of nothing and would not pass her throat. With all her being she longed to run after him and tell him that she had not meant a word she’d spoken. He was the only man she loved, the only man she would ever want or need. Pride held her back and then she heard the front door slam and she knew he’d gone. It was too late to call him back., but then it had been too late when he’d walked in that morning; she’d sensed then that something had changed. He’d shut
off from her somehow and she wasn’t sure why.
If he’d loved her as she loved him, he wouldn’t have told her to think about Jonathan’s offer. He would have taken her in his arms and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and told her he would never let her go.
What did he think Jonathan could give her that he couldn’t? Money didn’t matter as long as they had food, clothes and a roof over their heads, besides, he was rich. Jonathan had told her that his reputation was stained and some hostesses would not receive him. She’d never planned to mix in high society.
All she’d wanted was his love, but perhaps that was the very thing Moraven could not give. He wanted her but he’d never spoken of love. She imagined that something had happened long ago that had made him shut off his feelings, made him afraid to love.
It didn’t help to know that she had probably discovered his secret. They had quarrelled and he’d left her, gone home to England. She was not sure she would see him again.
Hot tears stung behind her eyes but she held them inside. Pushing back her chair, she took her untouched soup to the sink and poured it away.
‘Why are you wasting good food?’ Heloise demanded. ‘If you’re breaking your heart over that Englishman you’re a fool. I told you at the start that he would hurt you. Marry the young one and take what he wants to give you.’
‘What do you know of that? Have you been listening at the door?’
‘I’m no fool. I’ve seen the young idiot looking at you. He adores you. A sensible woman would grab what’s on offer instead of mooning over what she can’t have.’
‘I’m going to take Lord South some broth,’ Constance said. ‘I thank you for your concern but please do not try to tell me how to live my life.’
‘Lose the chance and you’ll end on the streets,’ Heloise warned. ‘Don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on here – that rogue has broken your heart and you’ll either harden it or die in poverty, my girl.’
Chapter Ten
Constance did not answer as she prepared a tray of broth and delicate slices of bread and butter. She also added a small measure of brandy since it was Jonathan’s request. The broth would be good for him, but the strong wine might give him strength.
She had wondered if he might still be sleeping but she saw that he was awake when she entered and had managed to sit up against his pillows. He seemed a little easier and smiled as he saw her.
‘Will you forgive me?’
‘What have you done that needs forgiveness?’
‘I tried to blackmail you into becoming my wife earlier. I am sorry. You do know that I care for you deeply?’
‘Yes, I know.’ She moved closer to the bed. ‘Do you think you could manage a little broth? I have brought some brandy if you prefer.’
‘I will have the brandy and then try a little broth, but you must not scold me if I cannot swallow much.’
‘I have no right to scold you.’
‘You would if you were my wife.’
Do you truly wish for it?’ Constance asked. ‘You said you knew I was in love with Moraven. I shall tell you that he was my lover for a short time – and, yes, I do love him. You are a friend and I care for you – is that enough for you? Would it not hurt you to know that your wife loves another man?’
‘The physician made it clear to me that I do not have long to live. He says that even if I make a recovery I shall never be truly well and it is unlikely that I could live more than a year at most.’
‘He may be wrong, Jonathan. Already, you are better than you were. You should not dwell on such thoughts.’
‘I could not be a husband to you, as I should wish, but it would make me happy to know that when I’m gone you have a chance to live as you ought.’
‘Supposing I am already carrying Moraven’s child?’
‘Are you?’
‘I cannot tell. It is too soon to know.’
‘I shall never have a son. Your child will be mine.’
Emotion caught at her throat. ‘You are too good, sir. I am not deserving of your generosity…’
‘Ah, Constance, never say it again. To me you are an angel and sweeter than a pure white rose just kissed by the dew.’
She laughed. ‘I think you are a poet. Do you enjoy poetry?’
‘Yes, I do. Very much. My father thought me a fob because I liked to read poetry, paint and walk about the countryside – he wanted a strong brave son to make him proud. It is why I joined the intelligence, to prove that I am no coward.’
‘You are one of the bravest men I know,’ Constance said, touched to the heart by his confession. ‘If it makes you happy I shall consider your offer, Jonathan. If you recover a little and still wish me to be your wife – I shall give you my answer within two weeks.’
‘If my recovery is important to you I shall eat as much of my broth as I can manage.’
‘Do you wish me to feed you?’
‘I think I can manage. You must have work to do. Please return when you can but do not feel obliged to sit with me.’
‘I shall return in an hour and I will bring a book of French poems. We shall read them together.’
‘Yes, I should enjoy that,’ he said and smiled at her.
Constance left him to eat what he could of the food, though she suspected he would prefer the brandy. She had given her promise because he had shown her the young and vulnerable man beneath the bravado. He was alone and perhaps as unhappy as she. Since it seemed that Moraven no longer wanted her as his mistress, she might as well consider the idea of becoming Jonathan’s wife. It was not his wealth or his position in society but the fact that she had seen his need and believed that she could heal his inner wounds if not those Renard’s rogue had inflicted.
Moraven scowled at the flunky who showed him into the royal antechamber. He scowled at the servant who offered him wine and told him that the Regent would not keep him waiting long. In fact he had not stopped scowling since he left Constance and set sail for England more than ten days ago. His temper was not helped by the fact that he had been from one meeting to another, giving various officials details of his work in Paris. Renard had been a dangerous enemy of both England and France and it seemed many people wanted confirmation of his death from him personally.
‘You are sure it was Devallier? Can we really be certain that the criminal Renard was one and the same man?’
‘It was my intelligence and I know that the man who called himself the Comte Devallier was also known by many other names, including Renard. He tried to shoot me in the back after offering a duel and one of my men killed him.’
‘Give that man a medal.’
Moraven was sick of answering the same questions and getting the same answers. Everyone was treating him as if he were a conquering hero. The Regent had always acknowledged him, but now other people were beginning to lionise him. On one particular evening he had been greeted with a burst of applause as he entered a ballroom, which had him scurrying for the card room where he could be sure of a less enthusiastic greeting.
‘Ah, Moraven,’ the Regent had entered the room without his noticing so lost in his thoughts was he. He managed not to scowl and inclined his head. ‘Forgive me for keeping you. Matters of State you know – which brings me to the reason for this audience. I am told you intend to retire.’
‘Yes, sir. I feel that it is time my life took a different turn.’
‘I have been asked to persuade you to continue your excellent work for us, but I shall not press you. I had it in mind to make you an ambassador, if you should care for it?'
‘It would be an honour, of course – but one I shall decline if you will forgive me?’
‘Thought it wouldn’t wash myself,’ the Regent laughed, his large belly shaking with mirth. ‘It’s time you thought of setting up your nursery, Moraven. Since you will not accept the post of ambassador – perhaps the order of the garter might be acceptable.’ He moved towards Moraven, offering his hand. ‘Is there anything more I can do for y
ou – short of making you a duke I can’t see what is in my power. You’re richer than I am for goodness sake.’
‘I have no desire for riches, titles or honours,’ Moraven said. ‘All I asked was that my name be cleared of the shadow that has lain across it for years. I am no traitor and I did not cause the death of my colleagues that day.’
‘Glad to tell you I’ve already seen to it. I had Pendleton in earlier and told him the whole story.’ The Regent laughed again. ‘Never seen a man more shocked in my life. Thought he was going to faint – asked me three times if I were sure and I showed him documents to prove your outstanding service to the crown and explained why you’ve held your silence all these years. I feel sure that you will hear from him – and the others.’
‘Thank you. That is all I required.’
‘Then we shall have the award for the garter here at the palace next week and afterwards you may attend a dinner I’m giving at Carlton House. After that you’re free to do much as you please, Moraven – though there is one little matter of a personal nature I might request of you.’
‘If I can I should be honoured, sir – but I’ve finished with the service.’
‘This is personal to me. In my youth I may have been indiscreet. There is a letter in a certain person’s possession. She is asking for ten thousand pounds for its safe return. A not inconsiderate sum you will agree.’
‘You want me to secure the letter without paying the blackmail?’
The Regent winced. ‘It sounds so sordid but I feel if I pay it may lead to other demands. I was assured you were the best man for the job. It will only take you a couple of days there and back. You’ll be in London again for the investiture.’
