A hush filled the room. In the silence, comprehension sank deep within him. “You have thought all this time I don’t truly love you? Have I not told you time and time again how much I love you?”
“They were words easily said. I have known and have lived with the fact that you couldn’t possibly love me. You accepted what was told to you. If you loved me—truly loved me—you would have searched for me. I told you…told you I would love you forever…” Her words faltered.
Regaining a semblance of composure, she shook her head. “But as much as I blamed you for taking me as your mistress, deep down, I knew. I knew if everything was as you claimed, we would have married quickly. I did not want to accept it. So, you see, I am quite shocking..
“I deserved the fate that befell me. My only excuse was I was grasping for a semblance of happiness. I have been a fool.”
“It is I who has been a fool. It was my failing, never yours. Never, never believe I don’t love you.” He reached out and took her hand. He kissed it tenderly. “I loved you from the moment you challenged me to that race. Do you remember?
“You were so determined to win and so angry when you didn’t. All those nights apart while I was gone to war, I lived with only one thought—you. I dreamed of you and clung to our love.
“It was jealousy that destroyed our chance for happiness…I did not believe you loved me. You who brought out the best in me. Made me a better man. You who clung to honor and duty. I thought you found another whom you thought more honorable, someone worthy of your love.
“I reacted impulsively and have regretted it since the moment I proposed to Sophia. My grandfather must have realized it and pressed a quick wedding before his death. But there was never a moment I stopped loving you.”
He paused and glanced over at Victoria and back at Harriet. “I have never forsaken you, Harriet."
She gazed up at him with her soft and astute eyes. He saw it—the realization of what he had done. She released his hand.
"It was you. Wasn't it? Not James, but you who set my life up here at Bagden Manor. Oh, my God! It explains so much."
"Harriet..."
"Don't. I do not have the strength. Oh, what a fool I have been! James...why would he have deceived me in this elaborate manner..."
"Stop. I will tell you everything. Give me a moment to explain. Please." Arthur grasped hold of her arm, forcing her to listen. "Carlisle did what I asked of him. His conscience plagued him. His hands were dirty by the whole affair. He played his part in breaking us apart. He realized his mistake too late."
"My grandmother's money?"
Arthur shook his head.
"It is yours." She faltered. "I have lived a lie."
"No, no, it was not like that. I told you, Harriet, you have always brought out the best in me. That night you discovered the truth and told me of the baby, you said you would never forgive me for having a bastard—reminding me of my failings. I knew you spoke the truth.
“For too long, I had forsaken being a gentleman. I took what I wanted without a thought of the consequences. I hurt you, Sophia, and my unborn child. I did the only thing I could possibly do and help give you a new life. I had every intention of becoming a true gentleman.”
She shook her head, trying desperately to understand the meaning to his words.
"You were never to know. I give you my word—I never intended to make my presence known in your life. I wanted you to have the life you dreamed of...I wanted you to be happy.
“The plan wasn’t perfect. I still have the jewelry you thought you sold. Your grandmother’s cameo. I didn’t know how to give it back to you without you suspecting. Then after Sophia's death, I began to suspect that things weren't as they seemed."
"You knew we were endangered?"
"No," Arthur answered, more abruptly than he intended. His emotions he fought so hard to contain deep inside his soul began to surface. He frowned. "I had only suspicions. Carlisle thought I was using it as an excuse."
"Was it?"
"An excuse? Without question, if you want me to be totally honest. I could not abide the thought of you with that man...or any man, especially when I was free." He sighed heavily and added, "After Sophia's death, I had planned to wait the appropriate time and present myself to you."
She hadn't an answer.
He reached out and caressed her face. "There is nothing to stand between us now. Take me back, Harriet. Forgive me for the hurt I caused you. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you allow. I cannot promise you what will happen in the future. I know only that I will accept all that God holds in store for me in this life with you by my side."
Her eyes softened, as if she had let go of her anger…as if the wall she had placed around her heart vanished. Pulling her closer, he tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes.
So much he wanted to say, but at certain times in life, there was no need for words. He held her close against his chest.
“I want you in my life, Arthur. I need you in my life,” Harriet whispered in a trembling voice.
He felt his lifeblood stir once more. He leaned down and kissed her lips softly…in a reassuring manner that he was here. He wasn’t leaving.
Suddenly, behind him, a voice called out: a small, weak voice. Harriet immediately released him and rushed over to the bed. Swallowed in the midst of covers and pillows, the tiny girl fidgeted. Her eyes fluttered, and then opened and she smiled.
“Momma.”
He watched as joy washed over Harriet, magnificent waves of pure joy, for he felt it also. He knelt beside the bed alongside of Harriet, wiping back swelling tears. A sensation he had never felt rippled through him. Peace. He needed nothing else. He had all he loved dearly.
* * * *
Harriet lay in her lover’s arms, completely and utterly happy. From the dredges of hell, Arthur had swept her into a utopia of his creation. For the first time in her memory, she experienced a beautiful and embracing tranquil calm.
The years between them were not lost, but produced a special intimacy that reached beyond the physical one they shared. Deep in her soul, the all-encompassing emptiness had been filled. Forgiveness unleashed the excruciating hold his betrayal had barbed in her heart.
Arthur scared her. She could not bear the thought of giving herself completely to him once more, only to be stung again with heartache. But Aunt Eleanor’s words of wisdom echoed within Harriet. The pain in Aunt Eleanor’s voice still resonated the loss of her husband. Aunt Eleanor made it clear she would change places with Harriet in a heartbeat if given the opportunity for a second chance…for another moment with her Edward.
In life’s darkest moment, Arthur shone like a beacon calling her home. She chose Arthur. She gave to him her trust…once more. She fell into his arms and accepted the comfort and protection they gave.
At first, outrage swept through her with the confession her life here in Danbe Dale was due to his interference. Then, the realization of what he had done for her rose above her moral indignation. He gave to her a chance for a semblance of happiness at the cost of his own.
Carlisle had only touched on the surface of what Arthur had endured over the last few years. It had not been an easy life.
Beside her, she felt Arthur stir. His hand moved along her arm and wisped back her loose hair, burying his lips in that sensitive spot, sending a warmth of cascading sensations over her.
“Good morning, my love,” he whispered against her skin. “What a lovely morning, waking up with my wife.”
He turned her over onto her back and smiled down at her. She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. She kissed him. “I so love the sound of that, husband.”
She kissed him again. “This isn’t a dream. This is real.”
“Very much so, my love. There is no going back. Nothing can come between us now. You are bound to me, legally and…forever.”
“Forever,” she murmured in pure delight as his hands swept down the length of
her body. Grasping hold of the hem of her nightdress, he eased it up over her thighs and then her breasts until it lay at the foot of the bed.
“I told you it was not necessary to redress yourself before the morning light,” he said in a low, deep intimate voice. “Not necessary in the least.”
His voice trailed off. Leaning down, his lips met hers, giving her no time to answer. Somewhere in her consciousness, she remembered Victoria and her habit lately of crawling into her bed in the wee hours of the morning.
As if reading her mind, Arthur said, “Aunt Eleanor will see to her this morning. We won’t be disturbed, not on our wedding night.”
Wedding night. She had not forgotten, nor would she ever, the moment Arthur entered into her chamber and announced he had taken out a special license. Simple and quiet, the ceremony commenced out in the garden before sunset, surrounded by the people she loved the most.
In the fortnight since that fateful night, Victoria had recovered. Battered and bruised, she healed with the resilience of a child. Thankfully, she remembered little of the incident. The doctor said it was to be expected of a traumatic event. Though in time, he said, it may well reemerge in her memory. If and when the memories returned, Arthur and she would deal with it…together.
The effects of the abduction lingered larger than Victoria’s recovery. Padgett had disappeared. There had been no word of his whereabouts, leaving her with so many unanswered questions. The most prevalent—Why?
Arthur’s whispered conversations with James hadn’t gone unnoticed. Arthur was worried, though he assured her there was nothing more to fear. Both men had been diligent in their endeavors to uncover the truth, but neither man was taking a chance.
Having been informed of the events, the Duke of Torridge opened his home to Arthur’s family. Harriet, at best, had been hesitant on the acceptance of the invitation, but Arthur downplayed her worries.
“You both will be safe. I won’t have to worry if I’m called away. The duke will see to your safety. He holds nothing against you. He understands his part in this mess and wants only to relieve his conscience, as well as finding out the truth about his daughter.
“We have all suffered loss. It is what binds us. I don’t want you to worry. I will take care of the situation. I won’t let anything happen to you or our daughter.”
Harriet was tired of being kept from the truth and had no intention of being kept in the dark…but Arthur had a way of diverting her attention, using persuasive methods, at least for the time being. His kisses grew hotter, more intense until Harriet surrendered to the moment.
Afterwards, Harriet slowly descended back down to the world around her. Arthur smiled in a manner that came from being completely sated. Kissing her lightly on her lips, he rolled off her and wrapped his arm about her until her head lay against his chest.
How easy it would be to forget the world outside her door here in his arms. Safe…oh…so safe and loved. Nothing mattered but their love.
In her delirium, Harriet didn’t hear the door open or the tiny footsteps walking across the floor. She did see large expressive eyes staring at her when Arthur raised his eyebrows and nodded to their daughter, who stood at the side of the bed.
“Momma,” she said in a tentative manner, looking at Arthur dubiously. “Aunt Eleanor said I shouldn’t bother you, but I thought you would miss me.” She leaned over closer to her mother. “Why is he here?”
Harriet pulled the covers tighter against her, kicking Arthur under the sheets to retrieve some semblance of her clothing. Oh, good Lord! Where was Miss Blake? Quite discombobulated, she swallowed hard. “My darling, you remember that I married Lord Daneford, yesterday. It’s…acceptable…”
Having reached down and recovered Harriet’s gown, Arthur chuckled while he laid it beside her hand. “Come here, Victoria. Let me look at you.”
Victoria hesitated, and then eased around the bed. “Why? I have not changed since you saw me last night.”
“But you have,” he disagreed, leaning upward to block Victoria’s view of her mother while Harriet hastily pulled her gown over her head. “I wanted to see what you looked like now that you’re my daughter.”
“Am I your daughter?” she asked in a manner that the thought seemed to please her. “You are my father?”
“I am,” Arthur answered. “But, of course, I will need your help. I have never had a daughter before.”
Thinking for a moment, she nodded. “I will help you. You gave me my pony. I liked that.” She climbed up on the bed and sat at the foot of the bed. “Do fathers help their daughters to ride? I would like if you could.”
“I think I can manage,” Arthur said, his eyes gleaming at Harriet.
Harriet straightened her nightdress. She eyed Arthur and Victoria, who were deep in conversation about what being a father would mean to Victoria. Arthur sat talking, not embarrassed in the least about the situation. Matter of fact, Harriet swore he was amused.
Somewhere in the discussion, she heard mention of a new puppy. A huge smile widened on Victoria’s face. Oh, the little minx! She was her father’s daughter, manipulating the situation to her advantage.
Slipping out of bed, Harriet fluffed out her gown and covered it with her wrap. Extending her hand to her daughter, she said, “Come, Victoria. Let’s go find Aunt Eleanor. I’m certain she must be looking for you. We will leave Lord Daneford to prepare for the day.”
“Father, Momma,” Victoria corrected. “I have a father now.”
Victoria accepted her mother’s hand and scooted off the bed. Glancing behind Victoria, Arthur’s gaze met hers and smiled a winning smile.
Oh…whatever was she going to do! Now, she had two of them to deal with…and she had never been happier.
Chapter Eleven
Arthur was not in his chamber. Harriet gazed around the room, satisfied she was alone. She had plucked up her courage for this attempt. She couldn’t falter. Arthur had arranged for their departure on the morrow.
Frustration had led Harriet to this point—Arthur’s refusal to acknowledge there was more to Victoria’s abduction. Harriet had never accepted that Padgett had reacted to the possibility of losing her in such an extreme manner—abducting Victoria. It made no sense. Their arrangement had never been more than a convenient marriage: fondness, yes, but never love. There had to be more.
She hadn’t a doubt of Arthur’s intention. He wanted to protect her and their daughter. Of Arthur and his love, she didn’t question, but of the abduction there was much more she did. So much more.
Logic dictated the happenings of the last few years held a connection. The deception that led to Arthur and her separation. Sophia’s death. Victoria’s abduction. Somehow, someway, there had to be a common link.
Harriet had an epiphany the moment Arthur brought Victoria back to her. For years, she had believed her grandfather’s assumption that her gift was in truth a curse. She heard clearly her grandfather ranting and raving about those blasted gypsies.
“Not to be trusted. Thieves. All of them. Not a decent bone in their body. No, those people never do anything without a scheme behind their words.”
But never once in his rants did her grandfather deny Harriet had become different after Madame Vadoma said her words. Even given her young age, she realized the reason. Her grandfather feared she would be looked at as strange, whispered behind her back, even shunned.
What he had not understood, what she had not understood, was that one didn’t have a choice about who they were. The choice became whether they embraced that person. She could turn her back on her visions, or use them as they were meant to be.
Harriet reflected upon her decision once feared. At this moment, she felt only anticipation of what she might discover…needed to discover.
She thought briefly back to the ring Arthur had once given her. Someone, something, had tried to give her a message, one she couldn’t interpret. Was that not what Madame Vadoma tried in vain to tell her? To listen...to observe. The answers
are there. It is for you to decipher.
She had the day Victoria disappeared, although Arthur had quickly dismissed her vision as her fanciful imagination.
“Darling, unconsciously you probably suspected Padgett as being untrustworthy. You are an intelligent woman. You surmised a logical deduction.”
No, for all the brevity, Harriet knew the vision was more. Despite Arthur’s denial, the vision had saved Victoria. It had sent him in the right direction. Suddenly, her visions meant something different to her.
This new perspective had led her to this moment, hunting for those letters of Padgett’s that Arthur had confiscated. She had watched and waited for an opportunity.
Tomorrow, Arthur had arranged for Victoria, Aunt Eleanor, and herself to be taken to London and the Duke of Torridge’s residence. Arthur and James were heading out for the day to investigate further into Padgett’s background.
She wanted only to touch the letters, read them. Perhaps it was her fanciful imagination, but she swore they called to her. How else would she have known that Arthur had placed the letters in the top drawer of the table beside his bed? Or at least it was what she believed.
She glanced back over her shoulder and then pulled open the drawer. The letters were there. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began reading. Her eyes were drawn upon the words…her head spun…she saw…she knew.
The words mingled together, but the inference was clear. Padgett had come to Danbe Dale with one intent—Harriet. From the letter, it seemed he owed someone a huge favor…a favor that had been called in.
Harriet’s hands trembled as she read. Instructions, detailed instructions, on what had been expected out of Padgett. Oh, God…Oh, God! Her baby!
The instructions read clear and concise. It was the bottom of the letters that sent chills down her spine.
Seductive Lies Page 16
