Longing for a Liberating Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “His mother,” Jonas said. There was no kindness in his voice, but a sort of weary submission that made Alina look up in surprise. So that was it. He would allow her to care for their son, and to remain as long as her services were needed. She was, after all, the one who had raised Jinx since he was a boy and had tended to his every desire.

  She nodded, accepting his terms, knowing that whether Jinx survived or not she would be back on the street when the outcome had been reached.

  “That is wise.” The doctor gave Alina a sympathetic glance. “But Mrs. Hartley has born up under quite a shock. She should change and rest and then return later. Surely a maid could watch over the boy?”

  Alina looked behind him and saw Willa hovering by the door, her face white. Alina shivered. “No,” she said. “I will stay.”

  She looked down at her dress and saw with mild shock that the muslin was dark with dried blood. Her hands were bloody, too, and a glance in the bedside mirror showed her that her hair was undone and blood was smeared on her face. She walked to the water basin and dipped a cloth into it. “I will clean up,” she said dully. “In case he awakes, I wouldn’t want him to be frightened.”

  “Your husband could watch him until you’ve rested,” the doctor ventured again, somehow guessing that she was not satisfied with the servant’s care.

  “No,” she replied, more firmly this time. “It is my responsibility.”

  Jonas did not argue. One by one, the doctor, the surgeon, and everyone else slipped from the room, leaving Alina alone with her wounded son and her tortured thoughts. She plunged her hands into the water and watched them rest at the bottom of the basin, the blood spiraling away from her fingernails in thin red ribbons.

  She scrubbed and scrubbed, drinking in the rough feeling of the cloth against her skin, and then ran the dampness over her neck and chest. She dried everything and then pulled her hair free of its last pins, letting it lie softly on her shoulders. Jinx always liked that, and perhaps if he woke to his mother’s face framed in soft curls, he would feel safe enough to wake again and again.

  Alina sat by the bed and lit another candle. She thought of Jonas, but only in passing. It wasn’t her husband that consumed her. She wasn’t angry at him for Jinx’s accident. She thought only of her selfish actions, feeling the guilt of the last few months settle around her shoulders like an unshakeable cloak.

  She was guilty for feeling free after Jonas’ death, for letting Jinx see how happy she was in his absence, for hating him so much when she found out about his mistress and their child. More than that, though, she was guilty of falling in love with Theo. She saw her marriage vows before God as a shattered mockery now, and she couldn’t face what she’d done. She hadn’t committed adultery, not openly, but she had longed for Theo since he’d first shown her kindness—and, yes, she would have been happy to give herself to him, had Jonas not returned.

  “What did that earn you, Alina?” she asked herself bitterly.

  She didn’t have to answer. The answer lay, thin and white and helpless, under the coverlet in front of her. Her own love for Theo, her own pursuit of a glimpse of hope, had driven her from her son’s wee arms. She could not forgive herself.

  Chapter 25

  Come to Marshall Gardens at once. Child wounded. G.

  Theo re-read the note twice, his heart pounding. “G.” That would be Georges. Even if he hadn’t left an initial, the servant quarters’ stationary and the summons would have told Theo as much. He knew the older man had a soft spot for him and Alina. And Jinx. Child wounded. He laid the letter down and went outside at once to order his horse saddled for the ride to the estate. He didn’t know what had happened, or how long ago, but he knew that Alina would need him nearby. If Georges was requesting he come, there must be some hope of getting past Jonas’ eagle eye and sour disposition.

  He rode along the cobbles at a quick pace, arriving outside the great house when the sun had already set and evening was darkening on all sides. Theo jumped off his horse and handed the reins to the livery boy, commanding him to leave the animal ready at the door. He didn’t have much faith in his visit being received for longer than a few pleasantries.

  Georges met him at the door, his face impassable.

  “Georges. I got your letter.”

  The butler nodded in acknowledgement, but said aloud, “I cannot imagine what you mean, sir.”

  So it hadn’t been sanctioned by Jonas, after all. The butler nodded his head toward the parlour and gave a significant glance. Theo nodded agreement and followed him into the room. Alina was not inside, nor was Jinx. Instead, it was the two men he’d most hoped to avoid, sitting by the fireside with amber liquid in their crystal glasses.

  “Excuse me,” Georges said, bringing both their gazes to the door and the visitor standing there. “I have a Mr. Pendleton calling after the health of the child.”

  “How did you find out so quickly?” Jonas snapped. “It was only hours ago.”

  Theo opened his mouth to speak, but Georges interrupted him. “There was quite the crowd congregated outside, as you recall, sir. News travels fast, and Mr. Pendleton told me he came as soon as he heard.”

  “How kind of him,” Jonas said drily. There was something old and hollow about him that Theo hadn’t noticed during their last visit. “Well, go on then. You’ve given your sympathies. Go back to wherever you came from.”

  “No.” Matthew interjected, turning his gaze back to the fire. “Actually, I think we should talk, Mr. Pendleton. Pull up a chair here. Georges, will you bring another drink for our friend?”

  Georges bowed, and melted back into the doorway as smoothly as he’d come.

  Theo stayed where he stood by the door until Jonas added his plea to Matthew’s, “You’d best sit, Mr. Pendleton.”

  There was something vacant and hollow in his voice that called to Theo more than his threats ever could. He wasn’t a good father or a good husband, but the lines on his face and the haggard grey around his eyes told a tale he would never say aloud. Jonas was distraught over his son’s condition. Whatever his faults, there was some love there, after all.

  “I came to see Jinx,” Theo said, taking a seat opposite the two gentlemen, his back to the fire. “I’ve heard it can help in cases like this to hear familiar voices.”

  “He doesn’t need your familiar voice,” Matthew spat out, his disdain oozing from his words. “You are an imposter and a troublemaker.”

  Jonas raised his hand. There was still a dangerous light of anger in his eyes, but it hovered beneath the surface, held down by the worry he had for his son. “Perhaps you can go see him. I may not be the most tender of fathers, but if there’s any chance you could help the boy recover, you may visit his bedside.”

  “Thank you,” Theo said, starting to rise. Matthew waved him back into his seat.

  “Not yet,” he said coldly. “Remember? Business first.”

  Theo sighed, thinking how little he cared about the brothers’ financial plans at a time like this. All he wanted was to see to Jinx’s welfare and, perhaps, if the stars aligned, to lay eyes on Alina in the process.

  “What have you to say to me?” he asked dully.

  “Only this.” Matthew leaned forward so the firelight lit his face in a ghoulish pattern. “You should know that the wheels of your demise are already in motion.”

  “Really?” Theo tilted his head to the side, only feeling a mild annoyance at the other man’s threats. “Do you hear yourself, Matthew Hartley? You sound more like an evil mastermind than the younger, un-inherited brother of a rich merchant.”

  This tugged at Jonas’ vanity as well as Matthew’s, and both brothers flushed crimson with rage. “You are doing nothing to help your case,” Jonas snapped. “Do you not see that I hold your future in the palm of my hand? One snap of my fingers and all you’ve built comes tumbling to the ground. I know all about you, Theodore Pendleton. I know that you have been seeking to bring yourself into a respectable business all your life—r
aised in poverty, barely making it into a good barrister program, and fighting for recognition every day since. You’re afraid of losing what you’ve built.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Theodore tried to sound casual, but Jonas’ words hit him harder than he was willing to admit. His career, his respectability had meant everything to him. He had laid aside all personal interests in the hope that he might one day bring honor to the Pendleton name. To have all his hard work tossed aside like worthless rubbish was a heavy threat indeed.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t care,” Matthew said, as though reading his mind. “I know you will never be able to show your face before a judge again after what we’ve done with you. That big case with the Duke? A lot of public attention riding on that. I hope your pal—Verner, is it?—is capable of bringing down the monster on his own. Because you won’t be allowed in another courtroom.”

  “I hear a slew of empty threats without basis,” Theo said bluntly. “That is the coward’s take. If you are so set on my demise, you should step forward and tell me straight what harm you have done to my future and my character. Perhaps, after all, you will be right that I have nothing more to live for.”

  “Empty? Coward?” Matthew sprung to his feet and his hand moved to his empty belt. It was the motion of a man primed for dueling, and Theo found himself thankful that whatever sword or dagger usually lay there had, for some reason, been left at home.

  “Brother,” Jonas said calmly. “You give away your hand by showing this exhibition of passion and feeling. Sit down. Calm yourself.” He turned to Theo with a disgusted smile curling his lips. “As for you, sir. You ask us to be forthright with you, and so you shall have your wish. Our efforts to ruin you have already been set in motion.”

  He paused, pulled up his pipe, and, in the agonizing silence, lit it with a taper. He puffed two long breaths and then leaned back again in his chair, as though commenting merely on the state of politics or the weather. “I have already contacted your clients and showed them the letter that my wife so unwisely sent you. I’m afraid the wealthy in London cannot afford to have a barrister who is so embroiled in scandal. They are already knocking on other doors in search of less…inflammatory representation.”

  Theo tried to keep the rage and disgust from his face as Jonas continued blandly through his monologue. “I feared that this step alone would not be enough to bring your practice to its knees, so I also went to the top judges in London with word of your misdeeds—”

  “What evidence do you have, other than that vague letter you’ve misinterpreted, of my misdeeds?” Theo asked, his voice shaking in anger.

  “Oh, they believed the word of a gentleman such as myself that you had exhibited fatal signs of malpractice and that you had badly mismanaged my money. You know these judges have been looking for a chance to kick you to the street, Mr. Pendleton. Perhaps they would not have been so willing to believe me if you hadn’t been so intent on championing the case of the downtrodden. No judge wants to be presiding over the jury that puts a well-liked and popular Duke in prison, now. You will probably be cast out of every courtroom in England.”

  The words came to Theo in a mad rush, and for a moment, his vision went black with fury. He imagined himself standing and placing his hands on Jonas Hartley’s neck, doing what the ship should have done all those months ago. He could end them both, such was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but in the end he regained his composure and merely answered in a tight voice.

  “I see you have done your work well. I should have expected as much of the Hartley name. You’ve never been very skilled at creating things that are worthwhile to the community, but you always were a neat hand and tearing people down. Destruction is your forte, is it not?”

  “Please,” Matthew yawned, feigning boredom. “Leave the French to those who actually grew up with qualified governesses. Your accent is abysmal.”

  Theo stood. “I have heard your threats and your talk of business. I have no need or desire to hear any further, and if it is my admittance of wrong you seek, you will not find it here. I maintain my innocence, and you must know that when you wrong me, you are wronging a man who has done you no ill, though he had ample opportunity.”

  “I think I’ll still manage to sleep at night.” Matthew stood, too. “Well, I will take my leave, now.”

  “Have you already seen the boy?” Theo asked drily.

  “No,” Matthew dusted off his hands. “I came in the hopes that I would find you. Jonas seemed to think your arrival was imminent; I wanted to be here when you heard what your future holds.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Theo ground his jaw. “You, the uncle of the wounded—perhaps fatally wounded—boy upstairs came all the way to Marshall Gardens to gloat over a poor barrister you ruined. You did not make any attempt to go to the boy yourself, even if the sound of your familiar voice may rouse him from his stupor?”

  “The boy never liked me.” Matthew shifted uncomfortably, for Jonas had leveled an annoyed glance in his direction. “If he heard my voice, he would doubtless flee back into unconsciousness out of spite.”

  “Yes,” Theo replied sarcastically. “That sounds like Jinx.”

  Matthew opened his mouth as though to say something else, then shut it again quite suddenly and, putting his hat squarely on his head, set off out of the parlour in a huff. He didn’t even bid his own brother goodbye.

  Theo turned, not wanting to hear the answer to his own question. He leveled his gaze on Jonas. “After all this, what you have shared with me today, am I to suppose you have reneged on your offer to allow me to see Jinx and wish him well?”

  Jonas stood slowly, laying his still-smoldering pipe aside. He stretched languidly, and when he at last turned his gaze to Theo, his eyes sharp as knives. “Do you know what bothers me the most about this whole sordid affair?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Theo snapped.

  “It’s this, Mr. Pendleton.” Jonas cleared his throat. “I know that you did not engage in an illicit affair with my wife.”

  Theo dropped his chin in shock. “Excuse me? Then why—”

  “But I can’t stand the truth, which is somehow worse. You managed to thaw the ice queen who sleeps in my bed, and though she never gave herself to you—even after my death—I truly believe she would have in time. I cannot stand the thought that for even a moment that woman thought she could love anyone other than me. I own her.”

  “You are not very careful with your possessions, then,” Theo informed him calmly.

  “And so you might wonder why I would ever allow you to visit my son’s bedside, where I know my wife is nursing him this very minute.”

  Alina was there? Theo struggled to maintain composure. Jonas stepped close so Theo could smell the alcohol on his breath. “It’s because I know that, even now, I have control over that woman, and it pleases me to see that no matter how close you get to her, you will never be able to have her.”

  “You are a cruel man,” Theo said. “If you’d been even a fraction kinder to her than you are now, she would have loved you forever.”

  Jonas yawned, motioning toward the door. “Stop your sermonizing. You sound like her. Go, see the boy—see your beloved. It will be the last time.”

  Chapter 26

  Theo climbed the stairs with a heavy heart, following the silent maid as she made her way through dark hallways dotted with dismal candles and lamps. There were a few large tapestries, and floor-to-ceiling paintings of the various Hartleys through the ages. Theo wondered, as he passed them, if they had all been like Jonas and Matthew, or if one of these faces had been twisted somehow by life and ended up twisting everyone else who came after.

  At the door to the boy’s room, Theo paused, the memory of that first night he’d told Alina and Jinx about Jonas’ supposed death laying heavy upon him. The boy had been so sweet, crawling into his lap and falling asleep there. Alina had been so steady and kind, so beautiful as she leaned in the doorway, watching her son.

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