Hugh lifted her off his lap and laid her on the bed. “I want to taste you, darling.” She raised her knees, and he gently spread her thighs apart, his breath coming hard. Lowering his head, he paused to look at her. She felt no shame, only a desperate hunger for him. He licked and sucked at the sweetness between her legs, and she moaned, writhing. When he slid a finger inside her, she came fast, intense spasms of pleasure seizing her, making her cry out with abandon.
He entered her, and she put her legs around his hips and drew him inside as far as she could. Hugh’s gaze was tender and devouring all at once. In this moment of their union, he was everything to her. With each thrust, she learned more of him. Understood the depth of him. And when his release came with a great, shuddering gasp, she found the peace she had been longing for. His lips brushed hers before he separated from her. He reached for a handkerchief and handed it to her, and when they had both cleaned themselves, he pulled her close.
“I love you, Eleanor. Every part of you. Your lustrous hair, your teasing lips, your smile. I love your breasts and hips and thighs. Your belly. Every inch of you.”
Her hand against his heart, she said, “Yes. I love you, too. So very much.” She felt the rush of tears, tried to hold them back, and failed. “Remember that.” Hot tears slid off her face and dripped onto Hugh’s hand.
“You’re crying, love. What is it? You arrived here tonight determined to tell me something, and I prevented you.”
“I’m sorry. It’s nothing.”
“Of course it’s not nothing.” Gently, he pushed away from her, rose, and began to dress. Eleanor let the tears flow. She felt them dribbling off the sides of her face, past her ears, into her hair.
Hugh handed her a fresh handkerchief. “Stay right there,” he said, and hurried away. While he was gone, she dragged herself upright, blotted her face and neck, and blew her nose. How was she going to explain this? She must tell him everything, for Lili’s sake. For his sake. But now that she had the perfect opportunity, she would rather flog herself, like a Christian martyr. It would be less painful, in the end. A future together after she revealed the truth was about as probable as the Prince Regent reconciling with Queen Caroline. Hugh was back before she’d thought up any plausible excuse for weeping. He was carrying a bottle and two wineglasses.
…
They had declared their love for each other, and a few moments later, Eleanor was in tears.
Hugh was determined to get to the bottom of this. Whatever it was that caused her sadness and pushed her to the brink of exhaustion. If she loved him, surely she would confide in him. Tell him what was making her so unhappy. When he returned to the bedchamber, she was dressed. With a forced joviality, he said, “Come. Sit with me in the chair and have some wine.” When she did not move, he said, “Do you like port? It’s all I could find.”
“I do like it, but I’ll sit on the ottoman.”
Hugh lit a few candles and poured wine for them. He could barely believe this was the same woman who had just made such rapturous love to him. “Please, Eleanor, take the chair. It’s very plush, molds itself to your form. I insist.”
Eleanor obliged him and sank into the chair. Handing her a glass of the port, he lowered himself onto the ottoman. The silence stretched out, and he hoped the wine was relaxing her. Finally, he could wait no longer. “Do you want to tell me why you were crying?”
Her face was shadowed. “The last few months have been very demanding. I feared we’d never finish all our orders. As you well know, there’s a flurry of parties and balls before London’s elite take themselves off to their country houses after the Season ends, and the girls and I have been working ourselves to death.”
“So it’s fatigue that has you in such a fragile state?”
She bristled a bit at that.
“If I work hard to achieve a goal, is that the same as fragility? Do you consider yourself fragile when, after a day of lifting, hauling, cleaning up ashes and rubble, you’re exhausted?” Her chin wobbled.
Obviously, he’d said the wrong thing. Hugh looked down before she could glimpse the frustration on his face. When he raised his head, he hoped all traces of it were gone. “My apologies. I never think of you in that way, but tonight, you seem altered. And our situations are different, you must see that. I have plenty of help. If I’m worn out, I simply take myself off and have a rest. I wouldn’t need to be involved at all if I so chose. But you…you drive yourself, Eleanor. For a long time, I’ve been wondering why.”
She swallowed more wine. “I’ve explained before.”
“You have.” He cocked a brow at her. “Your reasoning doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. But let’s put that aside for now. How do you explain the sorrow and melancholy I see in your eyes? You accused me of wanting to know your secrets. I didn’t, then. But things have changed between us.” He reached out and caressed her arm gently. “I simply want you to know that you can tell me. Nothing you could say would make the slightest difference in my feelings for you.”
Her eyes shone with tears. “Thank you, Hugh. I’m afraid I don’t deserve your trust.”
“Why not let me be the judge of that?”
She set the wineglass down and covered her face with her hands. Ah. Now they were getting somewhere. At length she raised her head and fixed her eyes on him. “When you were in North America, I gave birth to a child. Our daughter. Her name is Lili, and she’ll be two years old in August.”
He stood abruptly and stared down at her. “My pardon. I must not have heard you correctly. I thought you said you—we—have a child. That cannot be right. I would have known. In two years, you would have told me.”
She said nothing, merely stared up at him with tears trickling down her face.
Never had he suspected such a revelation. She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d said she was the Prince Regent’s mistress. He knew his voice sounded judgmental and cold, but the question must be asked. “You are certain the child is mine?”
An ironic laugh burst from Eleanor, and he glimpsed the hurt in her eyes. “Do you mean, did I have another lover after you? No, of course not. Lili is yours.”
He gulped the remainder of his wine, poured more, and began to pace. After a minute, he spun around to face her. “Why, Eleanor? Why keep it from me?”
She leaned forward slightly. “It was wrong of me. Unforgivable. And yet I hope you will forgive me. I am so terribly sorry for not telling you before now.”
“I asked you to inform me if there were consequences. A child qualifies, wouldn’t you agree? I even recall telling you Adam would know how to reach me. So I ask once again, why?”
“When I discovered I was with child, you were already gone to Canada. Would you have come running back to me? A woman you hardly knew, because I’d fallen pregnant after one reckless night of passion?”
He said nothing. His mind was still trying to take it in.
Eleanor misinterpreted his silence and said, “I thought not.”
“Do not turn this around and pretend I wronged you! If I’d known, I would have found a way. Requested leave to return to England so that we could be married. Perhaps we might have been married by proxy.”
She raised a hand, let it drop to her lap. “The likelihood of that happening was slim, since you’d only just arrived. Even you can admit that much. And I did not know you well enough to judge the kind of man you were.”
He took that as a subtle reference to his father. Hugh couldn’t deny that Benjamin Grey’s reputation as a libertine might put any young lady on her guard. “And after my return, when I so obviously cared for you? Why not then?”
She sighed audibly. “You said you wished to know if there were consequences, but isn’t that simply what gentlemen say under the circumstances? And when you came home, I had no idea what to expect. You’d been awarded a knighthood. You were rebuilding your home and your reputation. Proving to society that you were a better man than your father. The last thing I wanted was to drag you i
nto a scandal.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Scandal be damned! You knew I cared for you. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me. I’m a wealthy man, Eleanor. I was in a position to help you—and our daughter.”
Eleanor said nothing, and after a few minutes, during which Hugh watched her between gulps of wine, he said, “Ned will accompany you home. I’ll call on you tomorrow.”
“Hugh, please—”
He held up a hand. “Enough. No more tonight. We both need sleep.” Eleanor nodded, her lips pressed together so hard they were white. If Ned was surprised at Hugh’s request to walk her to the cottage, he didn’t let on. Hugh bid her a polite, restrained good night, if only to save face before Ned. Taking over guard duty was what Hugh needed. Perhaps the cool air would clear his head. What Adam had told him about Eleanor at the ball made sense at last. Hell, his own observations and reflections had finally become clear.
He paced about the property, pausing every so often to throw something onto the rubble heap. Gradually, shock loosened its grip on him, and clarity gained the upper hand. Eleanor had given birth to a child while he’d been away, and the likelihood that he was the father of that child was great. In fact, the odds of it belonging to anybody else were so small as to be nonexistent. Eleanor was not the sort of woman to keep a gaggle of lovers on a string. He believed her when she said he was the father of their daughter. Lili.
Where was Lili? Hugh was certain she was not currently at the Broxton home, or Eleanor would not be spending most of her time at the cottage. Unless…unless she didn’t wish to raise their child.
Who was caring for the babe? Was Eleanor’s obsession with her business more important to her than her child? He could not fathom why, rather than inform him they were to become parents, she would have chosen to give up the child. Because that was precisely what she must have done.
When dawn broke and there was enough daylight to ensure nobody would dare make trouble, Hugh shaved, bathed, and dressed. Although it was Sunday, because of the fire and the dire straits it had left them in, everybody had agreed to be back on site. He hoped to be done here by midmorning, so that he could call on Eleanor.
When he heard sounds of the workers arriving, he hurried downstairs and found Ned passing out scones and sausages. While waiting his turn, Hugh noticed Abbot standing a little removed from the others, drinking coffee and eating. He didn’t join in the talk. Definitely a man who kept to himself. Hugh would give his right arm to know what, if any, role he played in Eleanor’s life. Now that he knew she’d been lying to him for more than two years, how did he know she wasn’t lying about Abbot? Ridley showed up before long, and Ned handed him a mug of coffee. Hugh decided to let the architect walk around and study the damages on his own. After a time, he called Hugh over. “How did you manage to save the house?” he asked.
“We had a separate brigade for it. They had strict orders to douse any flames that came close, and they did their job.”
“I don’t see any water damage to the house, which is a blessing. We might have had to pull up floors and redo some of the framing.”
Hugh nodded. “I told the men to throw water on flames or sparks, but no water inside unless it caught fire. Fortunately, it never did.” Hugh glanced around, then at Ridley. “Where should we start?”
“Set your carpenters to work on rebuilding the items we need to complete the interior. The sooner that’s done, the sooner we can finish the kitchen, larder, storerooms. And the library. While they’re doing that, we’ll finish the walls and get all the windows hung.”
“I’m going to call the men over in a minute and have you instruct them. What about the stables?”
“Unless it’s a significant hardship to do without them, let’s leave them for last.”
“Agreed. A neighbor is stabling my horses temporarily, and I don’t expect him to quibble over a delay. And I would like to make the kitchen a priority. I’m growing weary of bringing in all the food.”
Ridley chuckled. “I can’t blame you for that.”
Hugh took a last swallow of coffee, then threw the dregs on the ground. “I’ve an appointment and will be gone the remainder of the day. You’ll stay?”
Ridley nodded. “I’m planning on it.”
“My thanks.” Hugh called to the men, who shuffled over and waited to hear what Ridley had to say. Meanwhile, Hugh took Ned aside and asked him to keep an eye on things during his absence.
“Consider it done.”
Hugh clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good fellow, Ned. The best.”
Chapter Seventeen
Later that day
At noon, Eleanor sent Jane and Minnie home.
She had waited all morning for Hugh to make an appearance, and her frayed nerves were at the breaking point. Better to sit by herself, considering what she wanted to say to him, than attempt to concentrate on her work. She brewed a pot of tea, poured herself a cup, and sat on the garden bench.
Her deception had gone on too long, and she feared Hugh would never forgive her for it. Just as he’d never forgiven his mother. The truth will out. Wasn’t that a quote from Shakespeare? How many times had she chided herself for not telling him about Lili? How many times had she tormented herself with the knowledge that she was keeping his own child from him? And yet she hadn’t acted.
The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Hugh learning the truth just after their declaration of love for each other. How would she explain? She’d had her reasons, but would she be able to make him understand? Last night, after she’d told him, his voice had been cold and completely devoid of sympathy or understanding. Perhaps, after having time to mull it all over, he’d had a change of heart. Maybe he was reserving judgment until she fully explained her situation.
And then she glanced up and saw him opening the gate. He had the most fearsome look on his face. Like God must have appeared right before he hurled Lucifer into hell. And that’s when she knew that her dreams of building a family with Hugh and Lili had been shattered by her own folly.
Rain had been threatening, and now big drops hurtled down. She waved Hugh into the cottage and motioned toward one of the two chairs. “Please, be seated, Hugh. I’ve made tea. Would you like some?”
He remained standing. “No. Let’s get on with this. We are alone?” His eyes cut toward the back room.
“Jane and Minnie have gone home.”
“Good.” His gaze swung back to her. “Now, tell me what happened from the time you learned you were with child.”
So there were to be no pleasantries, no words to ease her fears or to reassure her. Her apology, her stated hope for forgiveness meant nothing, apparently. Very well, then. If this was the way he wished to carry on, she would not argue, aware just how deserving of his censure she was. “Months of isolation in the house, then to cousins in Devon, virtual strangers, for the birth. Afterward, Lili was immediately fostered out. My father made all the arrangements beforehand. I had no say in any of it.”
“The child is illegitimate. I don’t blame him; I blame you. You could have prevented that. Lili’s surname is Broxton, I take it?”
“Yes, of course.” His words were damning. An icy stab to her heart. Throat thick with emotion, she said, “How could I have prevented it? I was barely one and twenty, completely dependent on my parents.”
Coldly, he said, “You could have prevented it by informing me.”
“You may as well have been a million miles away! At the time, informing you seemed impossible. I realize you don’t see it that way, but can you not try to understand how it was for me, at least until I formed the plan of starting a dressmaking business? Doing that would give me some independence, enable me to save money so that Lili and I could one day live together. I have no money of my own.”
“Do your parents know that I am Lili’s father?”
“No. Despite my mother’s relentless prodding, I’ve resisted telling them. They may have guessed by now, but if so, they haven’t s
aid.”
Finally, Hugh pulled out the other chair and sat. She hoped maybe this signaled a diminishment of his ire and a more empathetic view of the situation. But she was wrong.
“How could you do it? Abandon our daughter to someone else to be raised?”
A loud peal of thunder delayed her answer. “You must see I had no other alternative. I had no resources, no means of raising her on my own, and nowhere else to live.” She clasped, and then unclasped, her hands. “I hated giving her up. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Pausing, Eleanor wondered if anything she said would matter. “You are always asking me why I work so hard. Lili is the reason.”
Hugh cocked his head. “Some fantastic notion of living together in your own home? You’d be an outcast, and so would Lili. Society never forgives these indiscretions. You know that.”
“I was not planning to remain in Haslemere. When I saved enough money, I planned to move somewhere I’m not known. To pretend I’m a widow. I hadn’t worked it all out yet.” She paused, swallowing over the thickness in her throat. “And please, no matter what you think of the idea, do not make sport of my hard work, my efforts to take care of Lili by myself.”
“For God’s sake, Eleanor, earning enough money would have taken years.” Hugh leaned so close to her, she wanted to draw back. “Where is she? Who has her?”
Oh God, how she’d dreaded this question, but she could not keep it from him. “Jacob Abbot and his wife are caring for her at present.”
Hugh stood so fast, his chair tipped over backward, cracking against the floor. “That scoundrel? The man we suspect may have set the fire?” He stepped back, as though afraid he might strike her. “So that is why he spoke to you that day at Longmere!”
Should she admit her own suspicions? It seemed there was nothing left to lose; she may as well confess all. “He is trying to extort money from me. He guessed that you are Lili’s father. According to him, a friend of his saw us enter the livery together that night. I believe he set the fire to show me he could hurt the people I care about.”
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