The Sinful Secret 0f A Broken Earl (Historical Regency Romance)

by Lucinda Nelson

  “What do you know?” Maggie wondered. “You surely know more than most.”

  “That’s true,” he admitted, nodding.

  “Did you know her?”

  “A little. We’d met a few times, but I must admit that I steered clear of Radingley after their marriage,” he confessed. “Henry was terribly smitten, you see.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  Lord Crawley smiled and shook his head. “Not exactly. But it was rather irritating. She consumed all of Henry’s attention. She demanded it every moment of the day. And all that cooing and simpering... It just wasn’t like the Henry I’d known.”

  Now that was hard to imagine. “Lord Rivers? Cooing?”

  “He was a man in love. At least, he thought he was.”

  “And her? Was she in love?”

  “That’s the trouble,” Lord Crawley said. “We all thought she was, but then she just left. Took up with some duke abroad.”

  “God…” she breathed, with a shake of her head. “How did she do it? How did she leave?”

  “She left in the night,” he explained. “Leaving a letter behind her.”

  “What did it say?” She could hear herself asking too many questions, overstepping the line, but Lord Crawley didn’t seem to care. He remained forthright with his answers.

  “Look after Alicia.”

  “That’s all?”

  He nodded, his lips pulled down into a miserable frown. “That’s all.”

  And just like that, Henry’s life had changed.

  “I’ve never seen such a change in a man,” Lord Crawley murmured, echoing her thoughts. “In the end, I think it was all about the money for her. I hear that the duke she left him for is one of the wealthiest men living.”

  Maggie felt… sorry. For the first time, she pitied Henry.

  “Are you alright?” Lord Crawley asked her, softly.

  “Yes,” Maggie assured him. “Only stunned.”

  He nodded. “I thought the whole of the household knew,” he admitted.

  “I am sure they do,” she replied. “But they certainly keep it quiet.”

  “You would have found out eventually.”

  Sooner or later. But Maggie had been keeping to herself around the household staff. There was still this part of her that felt like she didn’t belong. Like they’d spot an outsider from a mile off. Though the staff had been friendly with her, it felt strange to establish any kind of relationship with them. At heart, she was still a lady, and she’d always been taught to keep the staff at arm’s length.

  If she’d allowed them to befriend her, would she have known all this already? Would she have understood Henry by now, enigma though he was?

  Her obsession with understanding him had been fruitless so far, which now made her feel very foolish indeed. The answer had been right in front of her. The maids, the butlers, the kitchen staff. They all knew Henry like the backs of their hands. They knew the secrets of Radingley. They knew it all.

  “I suppose I haven’t integrated especially well,” she admitted, perhaps more to herself than to him.

  “You’re rather different from them.”

  Maggie looked up at him when he said that. He was smiling, and there was a twinkle of warmth in his eye. “What do you mean?” She asked, struggling to hide how defensive she felt. Had he figured her out? So soon?

  “I didn’t mean any offense. Quite the contrary.”

  She frowned. “Is it good to be unlike them?” She rebuffed, with an arched brow.

  “No, no,” he replied, abruptly. “I didn’t mean that either.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  In answer, Lord Crawley laughed, entirely unabashedly. “This is what I mean,” he answered, gesturing towards her. “I’ve never met a governess as candid as you. In truth, I don’t think I’ve met any woman as candid as you.”

  Though she knew that he meant it as a compliment, Maggie found herself looking away. It was something her father had always hated about her. It had confused her mother, and it irritated Joseph everyday. Sometimes Maggie wished she could just bite her tongue and be silent. But it felt like a battle she was always losing.

  Joseph had asked her to behave with Henry. To be amicable and keep her criticisms to herself. Instead, she’d practically gone on a manhunt. She’d been determined to solve the mystery of their master, whatever it might be. And in consequence, he’d warned her, quite rightly, that she was putting her and her brother’s position in jeopardy by continuing to be so ‘candid’ with him.

  People didn’t want women to speak their minds. Not really. She’d learnt that the hard way, but couldn’t seem to change. “Yes,” Maggie replied, quietly. “I don’t suppose you have.”

  Lord Crawley didn’t seem to notice her resignation, or the hint of remorse in her voice. He went on to ask questions that became increasingly difficult to answer.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” she replied, trying to disguise her evasiveness by turning the question on him. This distracted him for a little while, during which time she listened to him describe his family history. It was interesting, but Maggie couldn’t concentrate. From time to time, she’d look back at the house, still wondering if Henry might come back today.

  “You seem distracted,” he noted, eventually. “Am I keeping you from Alicia?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Maggie replied. “It’s been lovely walking with you, but I should really head back to the house. Alicia will be expecting me.”

  “Of course,” Lord Crawley said. “I’ll walk you back.”

  They talked a little more as they walked, and she did her best to keep him speaking about himself. Maggie didn’t want to lie to him, and she didn’t want to fabricate a story that could be so easily disproven, so she evaded his questions as best she could.

  By the time he got home, he might realize that he hadn’t learnt a single thing about her. Just as she’d intended.

  Chapter 10

  Lord Henry Rivers, Earl of Radingley

  Henry spent two weeks away from Radingley. It was a spontaneous decision to leave, provoked largely by the disaster with Alicia. That day she’d gone missing had given him fear the likes of which he hadn’t known since his wife had left.

  When Amelia left him, Henry hadn’t understood why at first. Upon finding her missing, he’d thought the worst. That she must have gone out and had an accident. That she was hurt or dead. The terror had been unbearable. He’d been pale and shaky… and then he’d found the letter.

  When Alicia had gone missing, Henry had felt a new fear intrude upon his mind. What if his daughter had left him too? He’d told himself that it was an impossible idea. She was too young to want to run away, to even imagine it. But then, he hadn’t expected his wife to leave either.

  This new fear was so dangerous because it played on all his old fears; that there was something about him that had driven his wife away, and driven everyone else away too. That if he wasn’t careful, it would drive Alicia away too. It was one of the reasons that being around her was so hard. Because what if he loved her the best that he could, and she still left?

  With these thoughts awakened in his mind, he hadn’t been able to stay at Radingley. He’d gone to an apartment his sister kept in central London and spent the two weeks drinking and gambling. Trying to banish that feeling of abandonment and dread. Spending that day wondering where Alicia was, thinking that she’d left him too, had been a revival of a trauma he’d been burying for a year.

  A trauma he was determined to keep buried.

  Henry had decided to head back to Radingley when his sister had remarked that his daughter was surely missing him. Henry’s sister was called Rachel. She was three years younger than him and had married just as soon as it was acceptable for her to do so. Her husband was a bland fellow, but it was clear that he was entirely smitten by Rachel, so Henry didn’t mind him.

  Henry and Rachel hadn’t spent much time together s
ince Amelia had left. He tried to pretend that this was because Rachel didn’t want to be affiliated with his dilapidated reputation, but the truth was that he’d been too ashamed to see her for a long time.

  With his fear of losing Alicia still fresh in his mind, that had suddenly seemed like a small concern. She’d been thrilled to see him, but had been disappointed to find that he hadn’t brought Alicia with him. On the first night after his arrival, they had a very civil dinner together. Rachel must have thought well of him at that dinner, but it had no doubt been short-lived.

  As soon as he had the opportunity to leave, he did so. The London taverns were calling, and there was enough liquor down every street to make him forget that he’d ever felt fear. When he returned each night, drunk and barely able to stand, Rachel always looked terribly sad. In the morning, that was all he could remember of the night before.

  “What did you lose tonight?” She asked him one night, when he came tumbling in through the front door. Rachel knew that he was an avid gambler, and that he couldn’t resist a hefty risk.

  “My dignity,” he’d laughed, then tripped on the stairs.

  She hadn’t found it amusing, because it was too close to the truth. When he was sick in the early hours of the morning, she put a wet cloth to his head and spoke soft words he couldn’t remember anymore.

  When she mentioned his daughter, it was clear that his time in London had come to an end. He knew when his sister was hinting at something.

  In the end, Rachel was just another person he’d pushed away. When she said that she would come visit soon, he didn’t believe it, but was grateful to her for sparing his feelings by lying.

  By the time he reached Radingley, he’d just about sobered up from the night before, which meant that he had a headache and purple rings beneath his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He just wanted to go to bed and sleep for a few days.

  When he’d first decided to leave for London, he’d envisioned giving himself some headspace so that he could shake off his fear before it took root and became a part of him. He often had this idea, which was why he spent so much of his time drinking. But, as always, it had come to nothing. His fear wasn’t gone, just mildly numbed.

  Upon walking into the house, he saw Alfred.

  “Good day, my Lord. Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Coffee,” Henry muttered. His head felt heavy and awful, which prompted him to squint up at the window in the foyer, which was spilling in sunlight. As Alfred hurried off to get him his coffee, Henry expelled a gruff breath and set about closing all the curtains. He wanted it dark. As dark as he could make it.

  He went into the drawing room, where he’d drink his coffee before going to bed, and headed straight for the windows. But before he made it a few feet into the room, he noticed that he wasn’t alone.

  “Henry. It’s good to see you.”

  Henry stopped in his tracks and looked across the room… at Jeremy. Perplexed and tired, he forgot to greet him and just frowned. “What are you doing here?” He wondered. Maggie was standing beside him. He looked between them with a dumb expression, as if he was trying to figure out some cryptic code. “How did you know I was coming back today?”

  Jeremy stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “I didn’t,” he admitted, smiling. “It’s a pleasant surprise.”

  He still hadn’t managed to put the pieces together. He fixed Maggie with his stare. She was looking down at her feet, but not for long. When she felt him looking at her, her eyes rose to meet his.

  “Then what are you doing here?” He asked, slowly. But even as he said it, he started to realize. Maggie stood and smoothed her dress.

  “I was visiting Miss Riley,” Jeremy said, without losing his smile.

  “Visiting…” he echoed, trying to make sense of what he’d said. Visiting… Henry’s governess? Visiting Maggie, who’d caused him nothing but strife. And all while Henry was out of town.

  “Are you well, Henry? Still recovering from last night?”

  Jeremy meant well by the remark. He wasn’t the snide type. But Henry’s jaw tightened defensively. “I’m fine,” he replied, tersely. “Have you been visiting my governess often in my absence?”

  “Is that a problem?” Jeremy replied, with a quirked brow.

  Henry wanted to say yes. That it absolutely was a problem. But the fact remained that he couldn’t muster a good reason why, and that bothered him immensely.

  “Certainly not.”

  It was clear that no one believed him. Henry knew that Jeremy wouldn’t take his coldness seriously; his friend was too accustomed to Henry’s surliness to piece together what precisely bothered him. And what was it that bothered him about this situation? Did he even know?

  He found himself staring at Maggie, with fire in his eyes. He wasn’t sure who he was angrier at; her or Jeremy.

  Jeremy took Henry’s cold silence as an indication that he was in a foul mood and didn’t want company. Unfazed, he turned to face Maggie and bowed low to kiss her hand. “I'd best take my leave, Miss Riley. Thank you for seeing me again.”

  “Good day, Lord Crawley.”

  Henry didn’t speak a word as they spoke their farewells. When Jeremy passed him and bid him goodbye, Henry nodded an acknowledgement, but couldn’t muster a polite response. As Jeremy saw himself out, Henry stood still… staring at Maggie.

  It wasn’t until he heard the front door slam that he moved. “What the devil are you playing at?” He hissed at her, taking a stride towards her.

  “Excuse me?” Maggie replied, with an arched brow.

  “Did you not take heed of our last conversation?”

  “I did,” she answered, calmly. “I have not misstepped in your absence.”

  “Not misstepped? Then what do you call this?”

  “You mean Lord Crawley?” Maggie answered, with a small furrow between her brows.

  “You are a governess. When will you understand that?”

  “I do understand that.” As she said this, she stepped forwards so that they were facing off, no more than a few inches apart. She had growing, righteous anger in her countenance. “Why do you have a problem with me seeing Lord Crawley?”

  “Governesses shouldn’t fraternize with their master’s friends. I’m surprised I have to explain that to you.”

  “Then what was I to say when he invited me to take a walk with him?”

  “I know your game, Maggie.”

  “There is no game.”

  “Luring a wealthy man into your arms, so you can regain your station.”

  Maggie looked as if she’d been slapped. Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide with incredulity. “How dare you? I have done nothing of the sort. He came of his own accord, and I thought it improper to decline his invitation. And why should I anyway? He is a good man.”

  Henry’s headache became increasingly unbearable.

  “Given my circumstances, I don’t think I’m in a position to refuse the attentions of a good man.”

  “I assume he knows the truth of you then,” he bit out. “So much for a secret.”

  Her cheeks colored. He could see that she was trying to hold onto her anger, but there was something else there too. Perhaps shame. “He does not,” she answered, with less energy.

  “You expect me to believe that he’s taken an interest in a common governess.”

  The redness in her cheeks deepened. He knew that he was being cruel, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Seeing Maggie with Jeremy had awakened some bitter feeling in him.

  “I don’t expect you to believe anything I say,” Maggie said. “You can believe what you like.” As she said this, she turned towards the drawing room door and tried to leave.

  “Where are you going?” He called, pursing her into the hallway. “You do not walk away from me unless you are dismissed.”

  Maggie slowed and came to a stop. Slowly, she turned back around to face him. She folded her hands in front of her and met his eye.
Though she looked calm, he could see that there was something going on beneath the surface. He wanted her to explode. To argue with him, as she usually did. But Maggie wouldn’t rise to his temper today.

  Had she truly taken heed of their last conversation?

  “What can I do for you, my Lord?” She said, in a level, but dead voice.

  Henry pursed his lips, ready to continue their argument. But he wasn’t about to shout at a passive woman. In an instant, his lungs deflated. Silence hung heavy between them.