The Marquess of Secrets (The Hornsby Brothers Book 3)

by Karyn Gerrard

  But that particular goal did not hold as much appeal or urgency as before. What in God’s name was he doing? Though educated, this woman was not of his class. He frowned. Tremain told him that he had the same exact thoughts about Eliza. It was disconcerting to say the least. And blasted snobbish. He of all people should not be despairing of her social status. People were worth more than their birthright. Harrison had seen the proof every night at the terminus. The quiet dignity. They were worth all of Westminster.

  Harrison crossed the road onto New Bond Street and passed the many luxurious shops filling the lane. His parents’ town house was nearby and his mother loved to haunt the various mercantile offerings on a sunny day. His parents were currently at the estate in Hastings as his father was dealing with a minor health issue, a murmur of the heart Harrison had detected.

  What an extravagance to have two town houses within a few miles of each other. Harrison again thought of the idea of renting or selling his, use the money for the clinic…Hell. So many problems, with no conclusion in sight.

  Shaking his head, his attention returned to his lovely houseguest. What did he want from her? All he knew is no woman brought out such myriad emotions before. Tenderness, the overwhelming desire to protect her. Desire itself in all its complicated and stimulating manifestations. His nightly dreams were proof of how he wanted her. Though undernourished and recovering from pneumonia, her beauty was apparent.

  But what held his interest is the fact she was a nurse. What better companion for a man of medicine? Someone who would understand his commitment, his deep-seated necessity to assist those in dire straits? He harbored fantasies of the two of them working side-by-side at the new clinic. Damn his title and inheritance. It had denied him the life he truly wished to live. If he allowed it, it would deny him the woman he wanted and desired.

  Frowning, he picked up the pace.

  Easy, man.

  His emotions were caught up in a cyclone, whirling about causing a wreckage of his heart and soul. Harrison was not used to this, as he prided himself on keeping his emotions under wraps and well protected. In fact, he may have acted too detached when speaking with Lydia. God forbid he should reveal what he was feeling. Whatever it was.

  Dodging carriages and piles of horse manure, Harrison made his way to the side entrance and entered the hall, but stopped short when he spotted his brother, Tremain, leaning on his cane, admiring the recently installed frescos.

  “Tremain!” He hurried toward his younger brother then, seeing they were alone, embraced him briefly.

  “Steady on, we just saw each other a couple of weeks ago,” Tremain laughed.

  Public displays of affection were generally frowned upon, but he didn’t care as he was genuinely pleased to see his brother. After returning from the war, Tremain had not been himself. Harrison worried the brother that he knew, loved, and admired was gone forever. How gratifying to have him back.

  Upon his return from South Africa, Tremain was made Viscount Hawkestone. It was an extinct title on their mother’s side going back more than one hundred years. The queen wished to reward Tremain for his services to the crown by resurrecting the title through letters patent. Many grumbled over the blatant favoritism the queen had often shown his family, but in Harrison eyes, his brother more than deserved such a rare honor.

  “Nonetheless, it’s good to see you. When did you arrive in London?” Harrison asked.

  “Just this morning. I’m staying at the Gransford town house. Father said I should make an appearance at parliament. It is well overdue.” He clapped Harrison on the shoulder. “You have been carrying far more of the burden here at the House of Lords since Father’s health crisis. It’s far past time I contributed and fulfilled my obligations.”

  “And Eliza?”

  A warm smile curved about Tremain’s mouth at the mention of his fiancée’s name. “As propriety dictates, she is staying with our mother and father until the wedding. Drew is there as well being tutored by Eliza and being spoiled shamelessly by his new grandparents.”

  Tremain was in the process of adopting a young orphan from the village that was part of his brother’s estate. Harrison immediately liked the lad, especially when Drew mentioned he was interested in pursuing a career in medicine. Once Harrison revealed his secrets to his family, he would do all he could to assist the boy. “And Spence?”

  “When has our younger brother ever given a toss about society and propriety? He is tucked away at Penhaven with Philomena and his wolfhounds as he has been since bringing her from Wales in January.” They moved to the nearby corner to have a more private conversation.

  Tremain rested against the wall, exhaling in pain as he shifted his weight from his cane. Harrison should not leave him standing like this for long. “He adamantly refused to be parted from her when Father suggested it. Became quite agitated. It was decided to let the matter drop. Spence’s place is more or less isolated. He does not venture out into society, who’s to know?”

  The corner of Harrison’s mouth twitched. Obviously his brother hadn’t heard the tattle on Spence, and be damned if he would share it here.

  Big Ben chimed the top of the hour. “We’d best head to chambers,” Harrison said. “We can take tea on the terrace after if you like.”

  “Sitting with other lords and members? Not much chance for a private conversation there. I was going to seek you out anyway, and I’ve already informed the staff you would be joining me for dinner. I insist. You do not have any other plans this evening?”

  Damnation. He hoped to take dinner with Lydia before venturing to terminus. His hesitation caused Tremain to arch an eyebrow.

  “Off to the mistress tonight?” his brother asked.

  Harrison shook his head. “I no longer have a mistress.”

  “All the more reason you must join me for dinner in order to divulge the details. Come, time for you to show me the ropes.”

  The brothers headed toward the Lords’ chambers. Harrison wondered: how much to reveal to Tremain?

  * * *

  The meal was flawless. The staff served a sinfully rich cream of asparagus soup, a lettuce and tomato salad, followed by fillet of beef served with mushroom sauce, roasted potatoes, and creamed peas. Harrison did not stand on ceremony; he ate everything placed in front of him. Now alone in the dining room with a platter of fruit and cheese along with a bottle of port, Harrison told his brother about parting with his mistress, and his determined search for a suitable bride. Though, he reflected, not as determined as he was a couple of weeks ago.

  Tremain’s brows furrowed. “Harry, are you being pressured from our esteemed parents to make a match from the peerage?”

  “Well, no. You know they would never make such a declaration. But you must remember when we were youths; there were many days I was sequestered away with Father learning the duties of a duke. I took the lessons to heart. They made a permanent impact. He pressed upon me the importance of our family, the history, the responsibilities for the tenants and all in our care. Including our younger brother.”

  Harrison swirled the port in his glass, then took a sip. “It was much to take in, but I embraced the obligation wholeheartedly. I’ve all but given up on love as you and Spencer found. Finding a suitable bride would fulfill my commitment to the family and the lineage.” He paused. “However, fate rarely takes such things into consideration.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There is a woman. I met her under circumstances much as your own.” He gave Tremain a brief, condensed version of his and Lydia’s meeting, leaving out his suspicions of her homeless state and the terminus.

  Tremain leaned back, his expression incredulous. “We are a strange set of siblings, there is no mistaking that. We certainly do not follow what is expected of us by society. How long to you intend to keep her at your town house?”

  “No admonishments for taking in a stranger?” Harrison smiled.

  “Not from me, for I did the same. You will be able
to tell soon enough if she is trustworthy. So, how long will she be staying?”

  “Until she is recovered. Until I get to know her better. Until I find if these strange sensations and emotions are something I should dismiss or embrace fully.”

  Tremain leaned forward and laid grapes and cheese on his plate. Then he poured them more port. “My advice? To hell with duty and responsibilities. This is your life. If you’re developing feelings for the young woman, do not discharge them. Explore and nurture them. Love is everything, Brother. Spence would say the same. I had not realized how empty a life I led until I met Eliza. Yes, I did good works, it gave me peace, but loving Eliza brings everything full circle. Completes me, so to speak.”

  Tremain had the right of it. Good works were all well and good, but it was not the sum total of a man’s life. There must be more. He would be a fool to ignore what was happening inside him. But the bigger question, would Miss Chesterton return any feelings? Wasn’t this all developing too quickly? Not according to his brothers.

  Popping a couple of grapes in his mouth, Tremain chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Follow your heart,” Tremain continued. “I tried to ignore what was happening, believed myself too damaged ever to love a woman. I was mistaken. Do not turn from love for the sake of duty. Our parents would never forgive you.” A slight smile curved about his brother’s mouth. “And neither would Spencer. Or I for that matter.”

  Tremain’s words touched him. “I will think on what you said. I’m not sure if the young lady even returns my regard. This may be a mere infatuation on my part. Love cannot develop as quickly as you say. Surely not.”

  Tremain arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Tell Spence that and he will vehemently disagree. For him it was a week. For me? Merely a few weeks. There is no set schedule. Perhaps what you’re feeling isn’t love at all. All I am saying is give it chance. If you walk away, you will regret it for the rest of your days. Be open to new experiences.”

  Harrison smiled. “When did you become so blasted wise?”

  “War brings much into perspective. The one lesson I learned is life is short. I no longer take anything for granted. Remember how wicked we were in our early twenties?” Tremain winked. “Complete rouges.”

  Harrison chuckled, then sobered. The decadent doings had soon lost their appeal. They cut quite a swath in London society for a period of eighteen months before Tremain took up his commission. On one particularly wicked night, they shared an expensive courtesan. Swimming in a whiskey and opium fog, the sex with the woman was frantic, wild, and left him feeling empty and ultimately ashamed.

  The next morning, hungover and nauseous, he and Tremain paid the woman and never spoke of it again. But they could not meet each other’s gaze for several days after the encounter. They never spoke of it. Until now.

  “It’s a time I would rather forget.” Harrison exhaled. “And regardless of the gossip, I have not engaged in any excesses since.”

  Tremain threw back the rest of his port. “Neither have I. A few brief dalliances between campaigns, but nothing to compare with…well, best forgotten. Older and wiser and all that rot. We all have our demons, and they manifest in strange ways.”

  If Tremain only knew. “Do you regret keeping your identity secret?” Harrison asked, his tone soft. “Did you ever think yourself a coward for hiding behind a false character, even though you were doing good works? I mean, obviously you were trained to be a vicar, I’m talking of the fictitious name and background.”

  Tremain raised an eyebrow. “Coward?”

  “Easy, Brother. I’m not saying you are one, merely asking if you ever thought yourself one?”

  Tremain poured more port into his tumbler. He waved it toward Harrison, but he shook his head. “An interesting question. Yes, it crossed my mind, more than once. I also dealt with the guilt over my selfishness. But I eventually came to the conclusion it is my life and I would make my own choices, damn the consequences. The hard truth of it? I was in no way ready to step into my role as viscount. I never asked for the honor, never wanted it, but how can you refuse the queen?”

  Tremain’s expression turned reflective. “So I created another persona. A place where I felt safe, free from the encumbrances of society and the expectations of our family. And our parents do have them, even though they do not beat us about the head with them, they are there. Hence your obligation regarding the title.”

  Harrison nodded. The expectations were there, how could they not be? Their father was a duke. Their mother the daughter of an earl. Blue blood that could be traced back generations. Duty. Honor. Expectations.

  “It also gave me time to heal,” Tremain continued, “not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. I was a complete wreck.”

  Harrison nodded once again. “Understandable. But what about an individual who was not involved in a horrid war? What would be his impetus for such an undertaking?”

  Tremain scratched his chin. “Without knowing the particulars, I would hazard to guess self-preservation—and the protection of others or a combination of both. In my mind, it’s not cowardly, but cautious. Prudent. Sensible.”

  “I’ve something of importance to discuss with you, Spence, and Father once we meet up at the estate. And Mother too, for that matter.”

  “Oh? Don’t care to give me a hint?”

  “It may change the family’s opinion of me, one way or the other. I will be revealing what I have been up to the past several years. It’s time to come clean.”

  Tremain crossed his arms. “So this secret life you spoke of is your own? Sounds ominous. You are not going to reveal something along the line of being a spy for crown?”

  Harrison placed his empty glass on the table. “Not as romantic, but perhaps as noble. At least in my eyes. Or perhaps I’ve an inflated view of my own importance.”

  “My God, we are a strange lot,” Tremain mused. “The three most eccentric chaps ever to breathe air. Come now, give me a hint?”

  He and his brothers were certainly different from other peers to be certain. “Later.”

  “You are full of secrets.”

  Harrison gave a short bark of laughter. “Yes, it appears I am.”

  “When are you heading to Gransford Manor?” Tremain asked. “I’ll be heading there in two weeks time.”

  “I imagine a couple of days before the weddings.”

  “Then I suppose you will not be traveling with me. I’ll be making the journey by train.”

  “No, I’ve obligations to see to before I depart.” Yes. There were many obligations. Including the lovely lady recovering in his guestroom. The lovely lady who never left his thoughts.

  Chapter 10

  The pendulum clock on the wall chimed eleven, and Lydia was still wide awake. Earlier in the evening, Mrs. Wickes informed her Lord Tennington would not be home until late as he would be joining his brother for dinner, then off to his club.

  Right. Off to the underground terminus more like. It had to be him…Dr. Damian. Few people possessed eyes of such a remarkable shade. The voice was similar, as well as the build. Should she reveal her discovery or see if this is one of the secrets he means to reveal? It fit: his claim of fueling his wicked reputation to cover for his medical charity perhaps? Why would a man—and heir to a duke—give of his time and energy to such a thankless endeavor? Since when did aristocrats study medicine? Surely he must have in some capacity.

  The marquess must be aware of her true identity. Dr. Damian heard the tale from the police detective. She fit the description. Regardless of this discovery, she’d already decided to tell Lord Tennington the truth. She would reveal it all, no matter how mortifying. Perhaps he might assist her. Or perhaps he would turn her out onto the cobbles.

  The door opened and gave Lydia a start, causing her to gasp loudly.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re still awake?” The marquess paused. “Obviously, you are. I just wanted to check and see if you’re well. Comfortable.”

  “Yes, my l
ord. Your staff has been very attentive. And kind.”

  Illumination from a gaslight in the hall cast him in shadow; his profile loomed in the doorway. He hesitated, as if he did not know what to say next. Finally he turned to leave.

  “Wait! I mean…I’m not tired, if you wish to continue our conversation of this afternoon. I wouldn’t mind.” Lydia gave him a tremulous smile, if he could even see it in the dark.

  He didn’t answer right away, as if mulling over the suggestion. “Perhaps I will stay for a few minutes. I will light the wall sconce, is that sufficient?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  He moved to the opposite wall and the hiss of gas filled her hearing. Muted lighting flooded the room. As he sat in the chair next to her bed, she scrambled to sit upright, ensuring the blankets covered her modesty. She was wearing a nightgown borrowed from one of the maids.

  “We will see you properly attired. I’m sure Mrs. Wickes informed you that we had to burn your clothes, even the ones in the bundle. I am sorry.”

  “But you’ve done so much for me already,” she murmured.

  “Nonsense. I have access to second-hand garments. I can bring various pieces for you to try on. They will do in the interim until we can make more permanent plans.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Can we dispense with the title while we are alone? It would make the conversation more palatable to me. My name is Harrison…Lydia.”

  Harrison. The name fit. Elegant and formal, yet with a certain warmth. Did he go by Harry, she wondered. That too, fit him. “Of course, Harrison.”