My Secret Life

by C. J. Archer

  "You've been sailing for years. Haven't you seen all there is to see yet?"

  He managed a smile. "Not quite."

  She sank lower into the pillows and stretched out her legs along the length of the daybed. "Then don't expect to be able to protect me while you're not here."

  "I don't. I expect Leo to. Our older brother has a lot to answer for." He couldn't keep the snarl from his voice.

  She sighed. "Don't blame Leo. He's got a great deal on his mind."

  "Like how to marry well and ingratiate himself at court?"

  "He has a title to protect and a career to forge, no mean feat in the wake of his father's behavior."

  "I'd rather he was protecting you." He clasped her hand tighter and took his time choosing his next words. "The birth of your child will hinder his ambitions somewhat." More like devastate them entirely. If Leo wanted to elevate himself to the position he thought he deserved, he couldn't have the odor of scandal clinging to his person. It already clung to the Warhurst name like horse shit.

  "Blake..." She tipped her head back and searched the ceiling. "Don't think I haven't considered that."

  "It will all be well if you can marry your child's father. Tell me, Lilly." He squeezed her hand, as if that could force the answer out of her. "Is it Lord Hawkesbury?"

  "Don't," she whispered.

  "Never mind," he said, not caring that his irritability showed. It was time to give her the bald truth. "I know it is. People have seen you together."

  Her eyes widened. "Who have you been speaking to?"

  "You told me so yourself, in a way."

  She half sat up. "I did what?"

  "When I asked you if the man was married you couldn't meet my eyes. Yet I believed your denial. I was right to. You didn't lie. Hawkesbury is not married but he's betrothed. You knew that, didn't you? That's why you couldn't look at me."

  She chewed on her top lip and her fingers twisted in her lap, but she said nothing.

  He wanted to shout at her but she looked like she would shatter if he raised his voice. "Lilly," he said between several deep breaths, "it's over. I know he's the one." He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "Tell me what happened. Just give me the word and I'll set it right."

  "You can't." Two fat tears slid down her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip but not before he saw it wobble. "Don't you see, Robert, you can't make it better. It's impossible. He's to be married to someone else. He can't break the engagement."

  Blake's heart cracked. His sister was always the strong one, the one who tried to keep the peace between her two brothers, who knew how to soften up their mother. He meant what he said—he wanted to make everything right for her. Wanted to make her right.

  "Can't or won't?" he said softly.

  "He says can't." She tilted her chin, defiant. Something of the old Lilly. "And I believe him."

  He scoffed. "You believe the man who did this to you? He's turned you into a shadow, Lil. He's set you up for a lifetime of loneliness and misery. He's done all that and yet you believe him?"

  "Of course I do," she snapped. "Wouldn't you believe the one you loved?"

  He sat back on his haunches and stared at her. She closed her eyes but more tears escaped from beneath her lids. "Love?" he whispered.

  She nodded. "Have you forgotten what it is? You spend so much time away from the ones who love you most, it wouldn't surprise me." That she had strength enough, passion enough, to put a sneer into her words surprised Blake.

  "But...how can you love the man who did this to you?" He didn't understand. She wasn't making sense.

  "I had something to do with it too."

  "You did?"

  She opened her eyes and picked up a white lace handkerchief from the nearby table. "Surely I don't have to tell you how a child is made." She wiped her damp cheeks and dabbed at her nose.

  "But...do you mean to tell me that you were..." How could he put this sensitively? "...willing?"

  "Of course!" She stared at him. "Did you think I was forced?"

  "Well, not exactly forced, but...coerced. You're young and he seems like the sort of man who gets what he wants, especially when it comes to the fairer sex. I've heard him called charming."

  An odd little smile played around her lips. "He certainly is."

  Blake didn't want to know any more. He held up his hands in surrender. "My poor brain can't cope with this. If you love him, and he didn't force you, why is the cur still planning on marrying the other girl? Is it her inheritance?"

  She sank back into her pillows again with a deep sigh. "No, I don't think so. I've asked him and he won't say."

  "Then I'll ask him."

  "No! You'll only use your sword and that won't achieve anything."

  Blake wasn't so certain. He thought their swordfight had achieved a great deal. He'd learned the measure of the man and worked off some excess anger in the process. Not that he'd tell his sister. He didn't think she'd want to hear how her brother cut the arm of her lover.

  "Besides," she continued, "I've begged him to tell me. Pleaded with him. And if I couldn't get an answer, I don't think you will either."

  Another thing he wasn't so sure about. Men had been known to divulge lifelong secrets when the pointy end of a blade pricked their nose.

  "Whatever his reasons for marrying her, they must be important ones," she said.

  "Why? Because he really loves you and not her?" When she wouldn't meet his gaze, he touched her cheek. "Oh, Lilly."

  "Don't," she said, her face crumpling. "At least let me have that."

  He said nothing. She was too vulnerable to hear the truth so blandly put—that Lord Hawkesbury didn't love her at all, that he had used her.

  "The fact is," Blake said softly, "that he has left you to fend for yourself. I look at you now, so pale and sad, and I wonder how someone could do that."

  "He didn't intend to get me with child," she said on a sob. "And I was a willing participant, remember."

  "I haven't forgotten," he ground out. "But he should never have made advances towards you if he didn't have the most honest of intentions."

  "Oh, Brother, don't be so naïve. Men and women couple all the time and don't expect there to be marriage at the end."

  "That's not—."

  Oh.

  Hell.

  Pain stabbed him in the gut. It felt like someone had tied his insides into a knot and was pulling the ends, tightening it.

  "Robert? Are you ill? What is it?"

  He stood but had to lay a hand on the back of a nearby chair to steady himself. "I, I have to go."

  Min.

  Lilly caught his hand. "You're not going to do anything foolish, are you?"

  He stared down at her but instead of his sister he saw Min's face, blotchy from crying. Min lying on a daybed, her body weakened, her spirit washed away, a shadow of the vibrant woman she'd been. Min—carrying his child. All alone. Ignored by society and perhaps even those closest to her. At least Lilly had her family. Was Min so lucky?

  "I don't know," he whispered. He blinked slowly and Min was gone. Lilly frowned back at him.

  "I forbid you to go near him." It took Blake a moment to realize she was speaking about Hawkesbury. "Or write to him. Do you hear me?" She shook his hand with surprising force. "If you do, I shall never speak to you again, Robert Blakewell."

  He nodded. That was a threat he understood. He pulled his hand away and nodded a farewell. But he got no further than the door. His mother's formidable personage blocked the exit.

  "Where are you going?" she said.

  "To do something I should have done last night."

  "Can't it wait, Son?" She took both of his hands in hers. "You've been gone all day. I haven't seen much of you since your return. Stay. Talk with us." She tried to pull him into the room after her, but he withdrew.

  "I can't. I have to go."

  She took hold of his elbow. "Surely it's something that can wait?"

  "No. It can't. Mother, I agree, we need to
talk, but not now."

  "Talk about what?"

  He sighed. Escaping his mother had always been a difficult thing to do, even as a boy. "About the times you chaperoned Lilly to the White Swan to see the plays put on by Lord Hawkesbury's Men. And all the times she spoke to the troupe's patron after the performances."

  If he didn't know her so well he would have missed the telltale signs of her guilt. The rapid flutter of her eyelashes, the closing of her fist. "Don't be absurd." The vehemence of her denial.

  "You were there, Mother. You must have seen Lilly and Hawkesbury talking."

  "Of course. But I didn't think him capable of..." She sat on a stool beside Lilly and clasped her daughter's hand. It would have been a loving family scene except Lilly was staring at her with something akin to horror.

  "You knew?" Lilly said. "All this time and you already knew?"

  "I saw you talking," Lady Warhurst said with the imperialism of a woman born to her rank, which she was not. "I did not think that he was the father."

  "Bollocks!" He rounded on them both.

  "Robert! Language!"

  "You put the pieces together some time ago, Mother, just like I have now. There is no shrewder woman in England than you. You knew Hawkesbury was the man I sought, and yet you told me nothing. You let us all believe you didn't know."

  "I..." But she seemed to have run out of fire. She heaved a heavy sigh. "Very well. Yes, I knew." She held up a hand to silence him. He obliged but only because he wanted to leave to go see Min. Interruptions only prolonged his departure. "Unlike you and your brother, I trust that Lilly knows what she's doing. She chose to...lie with Lord Hawkesbury, despite knowing the consequences. It's not what I would have wished on her, and it is certainly not something I would have encouraged had I known the connection had developed so far."

  Lilly seemed to wilt beneath her mother's heated glare.

  "But it has happened. And we must deal with it as best we can."

  "That's what I've been trying to do!" Blake couldn't keep quiet any longer. "I could have done it faster if you'd helped me."

  "Helped you to browbeat Lord Hawkesbury into marriage?" She clicked her tongue as if she were chastising a petulant child. "He is not the sort of man who can be easily forced. And I trust Lilly has done as much as she can in that department. If she could not get him to marry her, then I doubt anyone else can."

  Lilly put a skeletal hand to her mouth, smothering a sob. Lady Warhurst stroked her cheek. "There now, you've upset her with all this sad talk."

  Blake bit his tongue to stop himself reminding his mother that she was the one who wanted to have the conversation. He'd wanted to leave to find Min.

  "I have to go," he said. "We'll discuss this further in the morning."

  "There's nothing more to discuss," his mother said.

  "No? Who shall we claim is the father? Who will introduce the baby into society when the time comes? You? Lilly? And then there's Leo. I don't think Baron Warhurst will be as...understanding when he finds out who the father is."

  Lilly started crying again. Blake wanted to go to her and apologize but he was too oafish and didn't know the right words to make her stop. He didn't think false promises would work in her instance, and they were all he had to offer.

  "We'll discuss what we're going to tell Leo tomorrow," Lady Warhurst said turning, presenting her back to Blake. "Now go. You're upsetting Lilly."

  Gladly. There was something he needed to say to Min and it was best said as soon as possible.

  But as he left, he had the sickening feeling he was abandoning the ship for a leaky rowboat.

  CHAPTER 15

  The fight scene was the best Min had ever written. It was so good she decided to put another one into the third act. Barnaby Fortune was turning into quite the swordsman. Of course nobody died in his fights. Just a few cuts to give the audience the blood they craved.

  Min rested her pen in the inkstand and her head in her hands. The fight at the White Swan could so easily have turned fatal. Both swordsmen were capable of great destruction, and she was in no doubt that Blake had wanted to do more than wound Lord Hawkesbury. He'd wanted to kill him.

  So why hadn't he? No one would have stopped him. No one watching could have stopped him if he set his mind to it. Perhaps Blake had experienced a sudden return of conscience. Or perhaps he wasn't the innately violent man she'd begun to suspect him of being.

  With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, she gathered the pages of her play together and put them aside. She'd best do some of her father's work before she grew too tired to keep her eyes open. It had been a long and arduous day after getting very little sleep the night before thanks to her nocturnal visitor. Her one and likely to be her only.

  He wouldn't return ever again. Now that he'd got what he wanted from her and revealed his hand, she wasn't fool enough to think she factored into his future plans.

  She should have been content with that prospect. He was Trouble and Danger all rolled into one—he was a pirate for God's sake!—and she didn't need any further distractions or complications in her life. But her heart felt shredded at the prospect of not seeing those bright blue eyes again or feeling his breath on her throat, his mouth consuming her. She'd grown accustomed to having him in her life. She not only wanted to see him every day, she expected it. He occupied her waking thoughts almost constantly. To go from that to never seeing him again made her feel empty inside, as if she were starving and could not eat enough to fill her stomach.

  And then there was the worry over her plays. Without Blake to act as their author, what would happen to them?

  Most likely Lord Hawkesbury would ban all performances of her plays by the troupe, effectively ending her career. He knew Blake had a grudge against him now and no one would blame Hawkesbury for ending the association.

  She picked up her pen again and dipped it into the ink. Then dropped it at the sound of a light rap at her window. Droplets of ink splattered her father's notes and the pen rolled off the desk onto the rushes. She stared at the silhouette of the man on her balcony.

  Blake.

  Her heart skidded to a halt.

  He was here.

  He knocked again, more impatient. She opened the window and stood aside so he could climb through.

  "I thought you weren't going to let me in," he said, uncertainty threading through the gruffness. It was something she'd not heard in his voice before, nor had she ever associated it with his character. Blake always seemed certain of everything.

  "I was taken by surprise, that's all," she said. "I wasn't expecting you.

  He closed the window and seemed to take a very long time to turn around again. When he did, she was disturbed by the tiredness shadowing his eyes, the deepening of the lines across his forehead and around his mouth.

  "You're unwell!" She took his arm and steered him to her desk chair, the most comfortable in the room. "Here, come sit down. Good Lord, did you get injured in the fight after all?"

  "No, I am well, do not be alarmed." But he allowed himself to be led and he even seemed a little amused by her concern.

  She let go of him and shoved him lightly in the chest, not enough to move such a big man but he sat down anyway. "That fight today was an utterly irresponsible and foolish thing to do! You could have been killed or hurt, and so could Lord Hawkesbury and where would you have ended up then? I don't think your money could buy your freedom if Hawkesbury's kin decided to pursue the matter. What were you thinking?"

  "I wasn't thinking. Well, not with this." He tapped his temple.

  Her gaze shifted lower down, to his hose. "Then what were you thinking with?"

  The corner of his mouth lifted. This time she was in no doubt he was amused. "Not with that either." He tapped his chest. "With my heart. Min, sit down. There is something I need to tell you."

  "There most certainly is." She pulled another chair closer and sat, concentrating on smoothing out the fabric of her housecoat because anything was better than looking
at Blake. His blue eyes seemed to dance in the candlelight and there was something most odd about his countenance. It was as if his self-confidence had been given a tweak.

  He leaned back in the chair and regarded her for a long time. She squirmed and waited. She would not hurry him. It wouldn't do to show him how impatient she was for an explanation and for...whatever might happen between them after that.

  Her body warmed and loosened at the prospect.

  "My sister Lilly is pregnant."

  Min's jaw dropped. She didn't realize until Blake leaned forward, placed a finger under her chin and shut it. But instead of letting go, his finger traced the edge of her bottom lip to the corner of her mouth where it lingered.

  Then he pulled away. She swallowed and continued to stare.

  "She's just confirmed my suspicion that Lord Hawkesbury is the father."

  "Oh?" She felt quite dizzy and it took a few shakes of her head to clear it. "That's good. All you need to do is tell him she's with child and he'll marry her."

  "He won't. According to Lilly he's set on marrying the Enderby girl we saw him with this afternoon."

  "Does he know she's pregnant?"

  He lifted one shoulder. "I suspect so. It's not like Lilly to hold back a weapon available in her arsenal. My sister knows how to fight. I've the childhood scars to prove it."

  "Oh." Her heart clenched. Poor Lilly.

  "She loves him."

  It just got worse and worse. "But he doesn't love her?"

  "I doubt it. His actions don't sound like those of a man in love."

  She had to agree they didn't. They sounded like a man who'd used a woman to sate his carnal desires. "No wonder you wanted to thrash him today."

  "I wanted to do more than thrash him."

  "I know."

  Their gazes met and Min felt a deepening of the connection between them. It must have cost him a great deal of family pride to tell her about his sister. No doubt it was something they wanted to keep quiet until Lord Hawkesbury could be made to marry Lilly, but Blake had offered the secret to Min nevertheless.

  Why? Blake was not the sort of man to do things without a very good reason.

  "I'm sorry," he said.