Liberty for Paul

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Liberty for Paul Page 26

by Rose Gordon


  “I think so,” he said with a smile. “Would you like your own rod?”

  “Uh…I don’t think I’m good enough.”

  He flashed her a smile. “That’s not a problem. You’ll get it. Then we can go together. When we get home I’ll make you your own.”

  “You make your own rods, too?” she marveled, impressed.

  “Of course. Though I must admit, I had to buy the reel. Even I’m not that talented,” he confided, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “We should go back in now. I have some business to attend.”

  “All right,” she agreed, hiding her disappointment. She didn’t want to go in and be left to her own devices.

  Chapter 28

  Liberty sat in her room staring out the window. She had to tell Paul. He deserved to know everything. Was it possible he cared for her? He’d spent time with her without intentionally vexing her. And if she were forced to admit it, she’d say he’d even been quite entertaining.

  She’d forgotten to ask him how long they’d be staying and why they were here in the first place, she thought while absentmindedly chewing the inside of her mouth in contemplation. No matter. She’d just enjoy their time together here then tell him the truth when they go home. At least they’d have some fun together before she ruined it.

  A knock at the door brought her into the present. She went to the door and opened it to see Ludwig standing on the other side. “Your presence is required downstairs,” he said with a bow.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “Do you know what Paul wants?”

  “It’s not Master Paul requesting to see you. It is I who thinks you should come down. We have guests. And seeing as there is no longer a mistress to the house, I thought you should act as hostess.”

  Liberty tried not to scowl. She didn’t want to play hostess in a house that she was unfamiliar with to guests she didn’t even know. “Very well. I shall be down momentarily,” she said before shutting the door.

  Checking her hair and grabbing a shawl, she went down the stairs. Turning the corner to the hall that led to drawing room, Liberty caught sight of Paul’s broad back. She smiled. At least he’d be in there with her. Almost to the door, she heard a young child, “Pa! Pa!” She peeked around the corner just in time to see a little urchin run across the room straight into Paul’s open arms. Her heart missed a beat. And not in a good way, either. She stood frozen in place as Paul hoisted one of his illegitimate children up onto his shoulders.

  When she was able to tear her eyes away, she noticed there was a beautiful woman sitting on the settee on the far side of the room. The woman was too far away to see Liberty where she stood in the shadows outside the door. Anyway, her eyes were locked on Paul playing with their son. Numbly, Liberty looked back to father and son, trying to pick out some characteristic of the little boy that wasn’t consistent with Paul. She couldn’t find any. Just as Lucy told her, Grimes bred true. She was going to be sick seeing Paul playing the father role. He would have made a great father to their children, she thought with a pang of remorse.

  “So will there be another little sandy haired, green eyed boy in the near future, Paul?” the woman asked shrilly.

  Paul shook his head. “She died.”

  Liberty’s eyes were about to bulge out of her head. Who was dead? He better not be suggesting she was dead, or he’d soon find himself in that state .

  “I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” the shrill woman said rather rudely.

  Paul frowned at her. “That’s not very nice.”

  The woman shrugged. “It may not be nice, but it’s the truth. What of you? I heard you just married. Is your wife breeding?”

  Lowering the boy from his shoulders, Paul joined him on the floor. They sat with their backs to Liberty, giving a side profile to the other woman. “No. It’s a complicated situation where she’s concerned,” he said softly at last.

  Liberty swallowed. Although she didn’t like him talking of their relationship with others, she was grateful he hadn’t implied she was the dead woman.

  “Complicated?” the strange woman repeated with a laugh. “You mean she denies you.” She repositioned herself on the sofa, leaning forward to let the bodice of her dress fall open and expose the swells of her plump breasts. “Perhaps I can be of comfort. I know as well as you do that the nights can be long and lonely without someone to share them with; and don't deny there’s only so much comfort a man can find on his own.”

  Liberty vaguely understood the woman’s last sentence, but she understood enough of her words to know she’d just witnessed a woman proposition herself to Paul. And it hurt. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her as she stood there and waited for his next words.

  But he didn’t respond; not to her anyway. He leaned over to open a cabinet and pulled out a little box of tin soldiers and lined them up on the floor. “Do you know how to play with tin soldiers?” he asked the boy.

  “You sent him a set at Christmas. Why, I’ll never understand,” the boy’s mother said, shaking her head.

  Paul turned his head to her sharply. “Every boy needs a set of tin soldiers. Sam and I played with them. Why can’t he?”

  She waved her hand dismissively and leaned back. “I don’t care that he has them. I understand you sent Lucy’s boy a set, too.’

  “Yes. I did,” he acknowledged stiffly. “The two of you compare what I send your boys?”

  “No, no,” she laughed. “I just happened to see her and Seth a few weeks back. And while we were visiting, her boy talked for more than thirty minutes about how some woman who’s teaching him to read played with his tin soldiers with him.”

  Liberty felt the blood drain from her face. What if this woman mentioned her name to Paul? How would he react when he found out that she’d unknowingly been interacting with his illegitimate son? Peeking to look at Paul, she noticed he wore a broad grin on his handsome face.

  “My, don’t you look happy,” the woman mused.

  “I am. I’m just glad he enjoyed them, that’s all,” he said, then made fighting noises associated with weapon the soldier in his fingers carried.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “You have a soft spot for him. Just like you do for Lucy,” she said in a knowing tone.

  “That’s not true,” he countered. “I had feelings for Lucy when we were younger, but not any longer.”

  “Oh really?” she said with a tone full of doubt. “You were madly in love with her. You even told her so right before you proposed.”

  His head snapped up. “You knew of that?”

  “Of course I did. We’ve known each other a long time. She tells anyone who will listen about how you loved her and all the wonderful attributes you possess.” Her words sounded careless and flippant, but Liberty knew there was something more.

  Paul scowled at her. “Did she also mention why she refused me? Hmm? Did she tell you that my love was only good enough for her when it benefited her? Or that when it came time to make a decision, she preferred to take a chance dancing to Sam’s tune because he possessed a title and I didn’t?” His words were harsh and bitter, but most of all, full of hurt. Lucy had hurt him badly, indeed.

  The woman brought her thumb to her lip and chewed on her nail for a minute. “Are you saying you love your wife, then?” she asked softly.

  Liberty didn’t want to hear his answer. She knew he’d say no, and for as much as she despised him for his legion of children and adulterous ways, she couldn’t bear to hear him say he didn’t love her. Rushing in the door, she startled them both by saying, “Good afternoon. Sorry to keep you waiting.” She looked to Paul whose facial expression looked like that of a little boy getting caught skipping his lessons.

  The woman stood up and turned a curious eye to Liberty. Belatedly, Paul scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat. “This is my wife, Liberty. Liberty, this is Evelyn Long, and this, is her son, Billy,” he said, picking Billy up.

  “Nice to meet you both,” she said smoothly, looking at Mis
s Long.

  A tea tray Liberty never ordered mysteriously appeared and feeling more awkward than ever before, she poured their tea. Once they were all served, she couldn’t find it in herself to strike up a conversation. After an hour of uncomfortable silence broken only by little Billy’s playing, Miss Long made her excuses and scooped up Billy to leave. Paul walked Evelyn out while Liberty picked up the tea service to put it back on the tray.

  Not wanting to be alone with Paul when he returned, she left the room and walked past them as they continued to talk in low tones by the door. They’d obviously not seen her and she had no interest in what they were talking about, or so she told herself as she climbed the stairs.

  She spent the next hour in her room sorting out her feelings. She wanted to give their marriage a shot, but every time they made progress something would come up and ruin it. Today wasn’t the first time she’d felt his presence so keenly and enjoyed being around him. She’d felt the same way before she left to go stay with Elizabeth. These were not new sensations. In fact, her body had responded to him ever since they’d married. But just like the heat and desire weren’t new, neither were the problems. The man was a born seducer, she thought with a sigh. There was no other way to explain why he could affect her and so many others that way.

  Hungry, she changed into a black velvet gown and went down to the dining room for dinner. She didn’t want to eat with him, but she did want to eat. Perhaps with others present it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable, she reminded herself. This was his brother’s house, after all. Though she hadn’t encountered him yet, she assumed she’d see him at dinner. And even if he was a nasty sort, he would be a welcome addition to the dining company.

  The dining room, she soon learned, was quite full. So full it almost resembled a house party of sorts. She found it odd when she was directed to fill the seat as hostess. And she nearly gaped in astonishment when she looked down the long, long table and saw Paul was occupying the host’s seat.

  Dinner was a delightful blur. She’d been seated near some of Paul’s close relatives who felt the need to regale her with humorous tales of Sam and Paul’s childhood. She had to admit most of them were hysterically funny and all were highly entertaining.

  After dinner she led the ladies to the drawing room where they all gossiped and she pretended to listen while studying the carpet. When the men joined them, she was surprised to notice everyone was dressed in black. Funny she hadn’t noticed that before. Perhaps she only noticed it now because everyone was talking very somberly and nobody suggested they play parlor games.

  Curious, but not knowing anyone well enough to inquire, she waited until a handful of people started to take their leave before approaching Paul. “Why are they all here?” she asked.

  “They’re guests. Don’t worry, they’ve all been here before and can find their way to their rooms,” he assured her.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “How much longer are they going to loiter in the drawing room?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. Glancing at the clock on the far wall, he said, “It’s nearly ten now. At ten I’ll kindly remind everyone we follow country hours. Likely, they’ll take the hint and go to bed then.”

  Like clockwork, at ten Paul made the announcement and not ten minutes later everyone was tucked off to their rooms. Liberty wanted to play the part of hostess the best she could and waited until the last person had taken their leave of the drawing room before she turned to leave. “Oh, I thought you’d left already,” she said to Paul who was blocking her path.

  “Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought I’d escort you to your room.”

  “All right,” she agreed, taking his arm.

  “Thank you for acting as hostess tonight,” he said as they climbed the stairs.

  “It was nothing really,” she said dismissively. “Although, I do wonder why we’re even here?”

  They’d arrived just outside of her room and he looked down at her. “Do you mind if I come in with you?”

  Awareness shot through her body and she felt her blood rushing through her veins. Did she dare let him in? If she did, would he think it was an open invitation for her bed? An invitation she wasn’t ready to extend yet. Biting her lip, she shook her head. “No. Whatever you have to say, you need to say it here,” she said in a small voice.

  He smiled. “Are you sure? If you’d like I can help you with your gown.”

  Her eyes flashed fire and her cheeks heated in anger. Was that how he did it? He’d offer to help a woman with her gown and then seduce her from there. She sent up a prayer of thanks for Mr. Daltry and his words of caution. If not for his comment about men only wanting to get women out of their clothes, she might have allowed Paul the Seducer into her room. “No, thank you. I don’t need any help with my gown,” she said hotly.

  His eyes held a new gleam. “Do you ever?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

  A shameful blush stained her cheeks as she remembered just a few nights ago she’d let a strange man into her room to help her disrobe. “Sometimes,” she whispered. “But not tonight.”

  “I see,” he said quietly. “In that case, how about if we meet tomorrow at ten in the upstairs library. I think there are some things we need to discuss.”

  She swallowed. “We do?” she said weakly.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. He brought his hands up to frame her face and cup her chin.

  The tender gesture caused her breath to catch and she couldn’t look away. His eyes spoke volumes of secrets he needed to reveal and she wanted to hear every single one. She nodded. “Ten, then,” she agreed, staring at him.

  “Goodnight,” he said, releasing her face abruptly.

  Shocked, she couldn’t form a reply and watched as he walked across the hall to his room and slipped inside.

  ***

  Liberty slept fitfully that night. He said they had a lot to talk about and she agreed. To be quite frank, the reason they were at his brother’s house was the least of it. She was going to demand to know about all the other women and extract a promise from him that he’d stay faithful before she told him her feelings. Thanks to Elizabeth and Mr. Daltry, she’d realized she loved him. She couldn’t tell him though. He wouldn’t want her love. But perhaps if he knew she cared for him he’d be willing to have a real marriage with her. One with friendship and trust and children. Yes, children. She wanted children. She wanted Paul’s children. She wanted to see him play tin soldiers on the carpet of the drawing room with their children.

  Sunlight filled the room and Liberty sprang from bed. A quick glance at the clock reminded her she needed to slow down. She still had nearly three hours to fill before her meeting with Paul.

  Trying to eat up time, she leisurely dressed and attended her toilette before joining a group of rowdy men in the breakfast room.

  Filling her plate and taking an empty seat next to Paul, she tried to figure out what they were all talking about. A minute later she discovered they were reliving all their childhood antics again. She rolled her eyes. Really, how many times did they need to discuss whose hind end got sunburned from swimming naked in a creek from sunup ‘til dusk? And as for the horse eating a pail of prunes, she could live without hearing those details again. But her husband seemed to enjoy listening to their stories, so she’d listen, too—even if they made her squirm.

  Halfway through breakfast a serious looking bespectacled man with a grim face and was carrying a large black satchel came into the room. The room silenced at once and the man scanned the table until his eyes landed on Paul. “Mr. Grimes, I have some good news for you. Can you attend me in the hallway?”

  Paul jumped up as if he’d been expecting to see the man and followed him out of the room.

  Liberty looked around at the other men, an unspoken question printed on her face.

  Lloyd, one of Paul’s more colorful cousins, leaned over and in a stage whisper said, “I think we all know where Paul will be sleeping tonight.”


  Heat flooded Liberty’s face as all the other men started to laugh.

  “Perhaps tonight we’ll all retire at nine to give him some extra time,” another cousin, Peter, suggested with a wink in her direction, causing another eruption of laughter.

  “Don’t worry,” Lloyd said in Liberty’s direction, “once he gets his heir, he won’t be so demanding.”

  “His heir?” Liberty repeated uncertainly. “What are you talking about?” Her voice was full of indignation and anger.

  “Yes, his heir,” Peter confirmed, but explained nothing further.

  “Paul doesn’t require an heir,” she told them.

  “He does now,” David, a more serious cousin, informed her. “With Sam having no male issue, his wife dead and his carriage accident last week, Paul’s role as heir has just been given a violent shove from meaningless to serious.”

  “Wh-what?” she stammered.

  “Congratulations,” Lloyd said. “You’re now a crucial part of keeping the Bonnington title in the Grimes family.”

  She still didn’t understand exactly what they were saying. The words male issue, dead, carriage accident and heir swirled around in her head, but she couldn’t make sense of any of it. “But the man just said he had ‘good news’.”

  “Of course he did,” Peter acknowledged. “It is good news for a second son to find out no one stands between them and the title they’ve grown up knowing they’d never have.”

  Liberty’s eyes widened in shock and partial understanding. “You mean—”

  “What this nodcock means, is that Paul’s just been given a direct path to the title. And you, my dear, are now as a good as a viscountess. Congratulations, you married well,” David said, giving her a mock toast with his glass.

  She felt the blood leave her head. Shakily, she wiped her clammy hands on her skirt and excused herself from the table. She ran up to her room, shut the door and sank to the floor in despair.

  He’d only wanted to meet with her because he was about to be made viscount and he needed an heir. That was the only reason he was being nice to her. And fool that she was, she’d fallen more in love with him. Not that it mattered anyway. She could never even tell him that she cared about him without him being suspect. He’d think she was only saying it because he had a title. He’d think her no better than Lucy.

 

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