Secrets of a Perfect Night

by Stephanie Laurens

  “Perhaps we will do our part if they see us going into the garden—”

  “No,” she said quickly, “not the garden.” She released his arm and stepped back. “This will not do at all. Not here. I can’t—”

  “There is much to be resolved between us.”

  “Yes, of course. I…” She drew an unsteady breath. “You must understand, until I received George’s letter, a scant few hours ago, I had no idea—”

  “And it is unfair of me to expect you to discuss it tonight. Now I am the one who must apologize.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “I shall call on you tomorrow.” He smiled and, before she could say a word, turned and crossed the ballroom, making his way through the crowd with the strong, confident stride of a man who has no question of his place in the world.

  And what of her place in the world? In his world? Everything she thought she knew about Jason and George and her life had shattered with the delivery of a single letter and its shocking revelations.

  And at the moment, she had no idea what those long kept secrets of the past would mean for the future.

  The cold morning air stung her cheeks and she slowed her horse to a walk. It was not perhaps the most proper thing for a lady to ride unaccompanied in the park, but Rachael had learned through the years that propriety was an overrated attribute. As a married woman, and more as a window, she had a remarkable amount of freedom. Besides, it was barely past dawn and she’d seen only one or two other riders.

  She’d taken to riding in the early hours during the years of George’s illness, and she relished it especially in winter when her horse’s breath blew out in white clouds and the grass crunched beneath his hooves and the cold invigorated her very spirit. It quite simply made her feel alive.

  And it gave her the opportunity to think. All night she’d tossed and turned, her thoughts filled with a hundred questions about the past and the future.

  Would Jason call on her this morning? Would he wait until afternoon? Was he anxious to see her in private without all of London staring at their every move?

  She barely noted the sound of a horse fast approaching from behind her and absently nudged her mount to the side of the path to allow the oncoming rider to pass. What would Jason say to her? What would she say to him?

  The rider pulled up on her left.

  “I scarcely expected to see you here on a morning as crisp as this.”

  She started at the familiar voice. Jason drew up beside her and grinned, tall and straight, looking every inch the part of the Earl of Lyndhurst. Was it the cut of his coat or had his shoulders always been that broad?

  She nodded politely. “I quite enjoy riding at this time of day. It allows me a fair amount of freedom and solitude.”

  His brow rose. “And do you need such solitude?”

  “We all need solitude on occasion, my lord,” she said coolly, ignoring the way her heart raced in his presence. “Don’t you?”

  “Indeed I do.” He nodded. “Particularly when I have a number of vexing thoughts on my mind.”

  “And do you have such thoughts today?”

  “Always.” He chuckled. “I, too, enjoy the luxury of being alone, not always possible when one is residing in a hotel, no matter how amenable the facility.”

  “Good Lord.” She reined her horse to a halt and stared. “I hadn’t considered that. Where are you staying?”

  “The Clarendon Hotel.”

  “That will never do.” She drew a deep breath. “You should stay at the house. It is, after all, your home.”

  “It was my home,” he said firmly.

  “Still, I must insist.” What was she doing? The last thing she needed was his proximity in her home. “George would have had it no other way.”

  “George is no longer with us.”

  “Even more reason to do as he would have wished.” Rachael leaned toward him, ignoring a voice of warning nagging in the back of her mind. “Don’t forget, the house is enormous. Why, I could host a dozen guests and not run into them for days. Besides, between Mayfield and the rest of the staff, it’s not as if we would be alone. In addition, there are any number of matters we need to settle regarding your inheritance. It would be much easier if you resided at the house.”

  He studied her curiously. “Aren’t you concerned about what people may say?”

  “Not at all.” She laughed. Surely she could deal with his presence. After all, she was now an assured and confident woman and not a silly girl unable to resist the spell of broad shoulders and devilishly dark eyes. “I am long past the point of worrying about gossip and scandal. It is the benefit of being a wealthy widow.”

  “Well, you did say last night that we would only be doing society a favor by giving them all something to talk about, although…” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh and started his horse forward. “I should not be surprised as to your attitude, given the rumors I have already heard.”

  Her jaw dropped and she stared for a brief moment, then hurried her horse into a walk beside his. “What rumors?”

  “You know, the usual sort of thing. Lady Lyndhurst has been seen in the company of this gentleman or that. At a soiree here, the theater there. You’ve apparently been quite busy.”

  She bristled at his comment. “I’m not all that busy. And I’ll have you know, it’s George’s doing at any rate. It bothered him a great deal that I scarcely went out at all when he was ill. He made me promise not to seclude myself after his death. He went so far as to forbid me to mourn for him.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “You needn’t worry overly about gossip.” He slanted her a wicked glance. “Nothing I’ve heard has been terribly scandalous.”

  “Oh?” She drew her brows together in feigned regret. “That’s rather a pity.”

  He laughed. “Why? Do you want to be the center of scandal?”

  “It does sound intriguing and quite exciting, but no, I do not really wish to be embroiled in scandal. Not at all.” She shook her head. “I simply want…”

  A new life. Freedom. And love.

  “What?” He reined his horse to a stop. The lighthearted tone of their banter vanished. His gaze bored into hers. “What do you want?”

  For a long moment she could do nothing but stare into his eyes.

  I wish for all of it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she said quietly, unable to hold back the one question out of so many that had plagued her through the night. “When you came back to London, when you learned the truth, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “God knows, I wanted to. Indeed, I started to.” He shook his head. “Even George urged me to tell you. You see, he couldn’t do it himself.”

  “Why?” Every fiber of her being tensed in anticipation of the answer.

  “Because he was afraid,” Jason said simply. “He feared if you knew the truth and his part in keeping it from you, you’d hate him. And you’d leave him.”

  She blew a long breath. “I see.”

  “Would you have left him?”

  She stared into Jason’s eyes for an endless moment. Would she have left George? When he was ill? When, after providing for her needs for so long, he at last needed her? At once, gratitude surged through her that she’d not had to make such a decision. There could be only one answer. “No.”

  “Then it was for the best.”

  Silence fell between them and they started off. Their horses walked side by side, neither rider saying a word.

  “I never would have left if I’d thought you were alive,” he said at last. “You do know that, don’t you?”

  She spoke without looking at him. “At the moment, I’m not entirely certain what I know. Or how I feel.” She drew a deep breath. “On further consideration, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to stay at the house after all.”

  “Very well.” He nodded. “However, I will call on you later today.”

  “Of cour
se.” Wasn’t he going to protest? Even a bit. She brushed away a touch of annoyance. “Good morning then.” She wheeled her horse and started down the path toward the park gates, refusing to look back.

  Why on earth had she invited him to stay at the house? What had she been thinking? Or was she thinking at all? Thank God she had come to her senses in time.

  As long as the conversation between them was of no significance, she could keep her head about her. But the moment it turned to matters of the past, her stomach clenched and a knot settled in the back of her throat and an ache she’d thought long put to rest spread through her.

  She absolutely could not have him as close as her own home until she resolved the confusion in her own mind.

  And in her heart.

  Jason watched her ride away until the cold numbed his fingers through his gloves and she had disappeared from sight.

  How could he have been foolish enough to think for so much as a moment he had put her in the past? To toy with the idea of finding an appropriate wife? The moment he’d seen her again, he’d known nothing had changed. Not for him.

  And what of Rachael?

  She was an intriguing mix of the lighthearted girl he’d loved and the competent, independent woman she’d become. One moment she was at ease and friendly, and the next he could see the fear in her eyes. She had been hurt so badly. He had too, but he’d at least had the opportunity to mourn her loss, even if it was a lie. And he’d had three years to come to grips with it all.

  Was she afraid he would leave her again? His hands tightened on the reins. Never.

  He could scarcely blame her, though. Even knowing that his abandonment was not of his doing, it would be extremely difficult for her to suddenly see much she’d accepted as truth in her life as deception. She did indeed need time.

  But that, he could not give her. Dear God, how could he? How could he bear it? He’d waited far too long already. He could hardly stand the idea of another day, another minute, without her.

  The key to a reunion between them was spending time together. Difficult at best as long as she insisted on retreating to the house she’d shared with George. The house Jason still thought of fondly as home. He’d had his chance when she’d invited him to stay, obviously an unthinking impulse on her part. Residing at the house would certainly make his quest to win Rachael’s heart once again much easier. Damnation, if she hadn’t changed her mind…

  Of course, if he had nowhere else to go, she’d have to allow him to stay. He’d simply have to make certain he had nowhere else to go. He smiled and directed his horse forward.

  He’d never thought of himself as an impatient man, but he must be. At least where it concerned the woman he loved.

  The woman he’d always loved.

  Seven

  “MY LADY, MR.—er—Lord Lyndhurst is here,” Mayfield announced from the doorway of the library.

  Rachael looked up from the estate accounts spread on the desk before her. She had no doubt all was in order. She went over them at least once a week and she’d learned far more about the management of such things in recent years than she’d ever dreamed she could. Still, she wanted to make certain this, if nothing else between them, was resolved as easily and efficiently as possible. “Please, show him in.”

  Jason strode into the room with a confident gleam in his eye and a smile that could well be described as smug. “Lady Lyndhurst, I trust I have not kept you waiting?”

  “Not at all,” she said cautiously, and got to her feet. The look in his eye was distinctly unnerving.

  Mayfield cleared his throat. “My lady, where should I put his lordship?”

  “Put him? Why, he’s right here.” She frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “I had my things brought from the hotel,” Jason said.

  “Well, you can have them sent right back.” Annoyance surged through her. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I rescinded my invitation.”

  “I have forgotten nothing.” He stepped to the desk and glanced at the papers strewn across it. “But since this morning, I have had the opportunity to speak with George’s solicitor—my solicitor now actually—and it appears there is some question about the ownership of the house.”

  “What kind of question?” she said indignantly.

  “Apparently George’s wishes as to the disposition of the house are not entirely clear.”

  “Rubbish. George’s wishes are perfectly clear. He made certain of that. It’s plainly stated in his will.”

  “Oh?” Jason raised a brow. “Do you have it here?”

  “No.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “It’s in the safekeeping of his solicitor.”

  “My solicitor,” Jason said pointedly.

  “George’s solicitor.” She started toward the door. “We shall go see him at once and attend to this matter. Mayfield, call for the carriage.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, Mayfield,” Jason said mildly.

  She swiveled toward him. “And why on earth not?”

  “I’m afraid I caught him just as he was leaving town.” Jason smiled pleasantly. “He’ll be gone for at least a week.”

  “Very well.” She gritted her teeth. “We shall wait for a week. Until then, however, it’s best if you return to the Clarendon.”

  He shook his head in a sorrowful manner she didn’t believe for a moment. “I would, but it’s impossible. I gave up my rooms. And the hotel is fully booked.”

  “Then find another hotel.” She clenched her fists trying to keep her voice level.

  “I’d rather not.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I have done far too much traveling of late and would much prefer to remain in one place. And until such time as the matter of the ownership of the house is settled—”

  “It is settled.”

  “—I shall stay right here. Why, you yourself pointed out that it is—”

  “Was.”

  “—my home.”

  “Very well. Stay.” She narrowed her eyes. “I shall go to a hotel.”

  “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head. “I’ve already checked. There isn’t so much as a single room available in any respectable hotel in the city.”

  She scoffed. “I can hardly believe that.”

  “Believe as you wish, it’s true.” He grinned with satisfaction. “I made certain of it.”

  “You made certain of it? How could you…” Surely the man hadn’t booked every hotel room in London just to manipulate his way into her house?

  He plucked a paper off the desk and glanced at it. “I admit it takes a great deal of money.” He let the paper fall back to the desk. “But then I have a great deal of money.”

  “Since you have given me no other choice”—she heaved a frustrated sigh—“you may stay here.”

  “Ah, Lady Lyndhurst, always the gracious hostess.”

  She cast him a scathing glance, then turned to the butler. “Mayfield, put him in the suite of rooms in the—”

  “There’s no need for that,” Jason said quickly. “You may put my things in my old rooms.”

  His old rooms? His old rooms were directly across the hall from George’s and a scant few steps away from hers. She did not relish the idea of having him that close. Still, any further protests on her part would arouse Mayfield’s curiosity. No doubt the butler was already wondering precisely what was transpiring between the new earl and the dowager countess.

  “My lady?” Mayfield’s question hovered in the air.

  “Fine, Mayfield.” She waved him off. “Do as he wishes.”

  The butler nodded and left. The moment the door was closed, she spun toward Jason. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Precisely what George would want me to do. You said it yourself: he’d want me to stay here.” He strolled idly to the bookshelf and perused the volumes, pulling one out and paging through it. “I’ve given a great deal of consideration to what you said this morning.”

  “I said you shouldn’t st
ay here.”

  “Aside from that, you did point out how much easier it would be to settle the matters between us if I were here.” He cast her an all too pleasant smile. “I now realize the wisdom of your suggestion.”

  “It wasn’t wise at all,” she snapped. “It was mad.”

  “Nonetheless, it made sense to me.”

  “Then I suspect your sanity as well. Besides.” She stalked to the desk and grabbed a fistful of papers. “Everything regarding your inheritance and George’s affairs that pertain to you is right here.” She shook the papers at him. “You may consider it settled.”

  “Ah, but that’s only part of it.” His tone was as casual as if they were discussing the prospect of rain.

  Was he trying to be infuriating? Or had it been so long she had forgotten this part of his nature? “The house is mine.”

  “Blast it all, Rachael, I’m not talking about the house, and you well know it.” He shoved the book back in its space and turned toward her. Determination rang in his voice. “I want to talk about you and me.”

  “I don’t.” A shiver of panic shot up her spine. “Not now. Not today.”

  “Well, I do. Now. Today. This very moment. I thought it could wait, but it can’t. I’ve already waited three years—no, ten years, ten exceedingly long years—for this discussion, and I shall not wait another minute.”

  “All right then.” She slammed the papers down on the desk, the confusion within her abruptly turning to anger. “You wish to talk? Go right ahead.”

  “I thought you were dead. I never would have left otherwise.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “You don’t believe me?” His eyes widened.

  “No! Yes! I don’t know what to believe.” She blew a long frustrated breath. “You must understand. This is not as easy for me as it is for you.”

  “It’s not entirely easy for me—”

  “Come now. You’ve known the complete truth for three years. Three years, Jason! I found out barely a day ago. I can hardly comprehend it all, let alone accept it.”

  She whirled away from him and paced across the room, ticking the points off on her fingers. “First, I receive a letter from my husband—my dead husband—in which the extent of my father’s cruelties are revealed.”