Perhaps not. But whiskey would take the edge off, that was certain. And right now, he was fighting back the urge to punch his fist through the wall.
So he raised the glass to his lips with hard-won calmness. As he took a deep swallow, he studied her over the rim of the glass.
Dear God, she was beautiful, even in that ruined black gown that she’d pulled back on. Her hair had come down again during their lovemaking, and now it fell around her slender shoulders like a golden curtain and made her almost look sixteen again. Except for the womanly curves beneath. And the grief that darkened her face.
“I should have told you before,” she began in a guilty whisper, so soft that it was barely more than a breath.
Yes, you should have.
“But I didn’t know how.” She reached to brush her fingers over the curtain framing the window. “I didn’t want you to realize what an utterly stupid fool I’d been. Or worse—to pity me.” Her fingertips trembled against the lacy material. “I couldn’t have borne that. Not from you of all people.”
“A marriage, Amelia.” Despite his effort to keep his voice low, the frustration rang loud and clear. There was no point in attempting to hide it. “I had no idea that you…” Christ.
“No one does.” Pulling in a deep breath, she faced him. “No one but Frederick and me…and now you.”
“And your husband.”
She flinched. Changing her mind, she took the glass from him and raised it to her lips for a drink. She placed the back of her hand against her mouth as she swallowed down the burning liquid and muttered through her fingers, “I wish to God that I’d never met him.”
With a visible need to keep herself busy, she crossed to the desk and refilled the glass. He silently accepted it from her, although he’d lost his taste for the stuff. What he wanted was answers.
“Where is he?” he demanded as gently as possible given the anger seething inside him. “Why does no one know about him?” Why the hell didn’t I know?
“Somewhere in America.” She shook her head. “And no one knows about him because marrying him was the greatest mistake of my life. One that ruined us financially and would have destroyed us socially if not for Freddie taking charge to hide it all.”
For once, she wasn’t lying or keeping secrets. The grief on her face was too real to be pretense. “What happened?”
“His name is Aaron Northam, and I was almost twenty-one when I met him,” she began quietly, “only weeks until my majority.”
She took a few steps away, to pick up his jacket and waistcoat from the floor where he’d dropped them earlier when they’d first come into the room and carry them over to the fire. He watched her lay the waistcoat over the chair beside his drying shirt and said nothing, knowing she had to fuss with them the way she’d done with the prints at the shop. To have someplace to focus her attention other than on him while she explained.
“Papa had died two years earlier, leaving Freddie as my guardian and me an unexpected heiress.” She picked up the jacket and gently shook it out, but the motion did nothing to eliminate the wrinkles puckering the kerseymere. It was completely unsalvageable. “As my guardian, Freddie controlled not only my money, but also the men who were allowed to court me. Although there hadn’t been any.”
“A beautiful heiress? I find that hard to believe.” Pearce set the unwanted whiskey onto the fireplace mantel. “If not true gentlemen, then at least an army of fortune hunters pounding down your door to get to you.”
She smiled sadly at that notion as she draped the jacket over the seat of the wooden chair. “Freddie kept the fortune hunters away, and I rejected the others.”
“Because they weren’t good enough?”
She slowly brushed her hand over his jacket, focusing on smoothing out the fabric and not raising her eyes to look at him. “Because they weren’t you.”
Her confession pierced him like a blade.
“Even then, I was still in love with you.” She paused, her fingers stilling on the ruined kerseymere. “I think a part of me was still hoping you’d find your way back to me, despite the wars.” Then, impossibly softer, “Somehow.”
With that, the blade twisted and nearly killed him.
She picked up the waistcoat next and fussed over spreading it across the mantel, but she couldn’t hide the shaking of her hands. “Freddie wasn’t a bad guardian, you know. He looked after me quite well for someone so young.” Her fingers brushed futilely at the wrinkles. “He was always concerned about my reputation, insisted that he look after my finances and spoke to all the accountants and bankers himself. And after the wedding, he protected me then, too.”
“Why did he have to protect you?” Something about the way she said that gnawed at his gut in warning. “That was your husband’s responsibility.”
“And who protects a woman from her husband?” she challenged softly.
His blood turned cold, despite the murderously hot anger that flared into his fists. “The bastard hurt you?”
“No.” She visibly steeled herself and admitted, “The bastard stole my fortune and left me.”
As that information rattled inside him, she moved toward the desk and bent down to pick up one of the tankards that they’d spilled onto the floor in their earlier passion.
“I had been out walking in the park… I hadn’t been feeling well, and Freddie insisted that I take some fresh air. As I walked past a little copse of trees, a young boy leapt out, grabbed my reticule, and ran. The next thing I knew, a man on horseback was galloping across the lawn in chase. The boy got away, but the man saved my reticule and brought it back to me. That was how I met Aaron.” Her voice grew quiet. “He was so dashing and heroic that I was simply captivated by him. I thought he was my rescuer.” She paused, bitterness filling the silence. “He proved to be anything but that.”
I don’t need to be rescued… Her words from the night of the masquerade came tumbling back to him. Now he knew why she’d bristled when she’d heard them, and he felt like a damned fool for not discovering sooner why she had.
She set down the tankard and slowly wiped her hands over her skirt to brush away the droplets of ale clinging to her fingertips. “I should have realized what kind of man he was, that it was all too perfect to be real…too romantic. But he made me feel special and beautiful—”
“Because you are.”
Her bright eyes found his. “Because he reminded me of you.” Her confession was barely louder than a whisper, but it rang between them like a gunshot. “He was everything I’d always loved and admired about you—strong, dashing, brilliant, protective… And you hadn’t answered any of my letters.” She sucked in a pained, jerking breath, as if hiding the start of a sob. “I thought you were gone from my life forever.”
Turning away, she began to pace the length of the small room, wringing her hands in front of her with every step.
“When Aaron asked to court me, Freddie didn’t hesitate to say yes. After all, Aaron was the son of a wealthy merchant with ties to the aristocracy through his mother. Because his parents were dead and he had no other family, the money had all come to him. There was even joking between him and Freddie about what should be included in the marriage agreement, given all the money between us, although it was far too early for that. I thought I was being careful in avoiding fortune hunters.” She turned her face away, but not before he saw the self-recrimination that twisted her features. “But I wasn’t as careful as I’d thought.”
“What happened?” He picked up the glass of whiskey and held it out to her, stopping her in midpace.
“My brother.” She stared at the glass, not yet accepting it. “That was right when he decided that he wanted a career in politics and set about maneuvering his way into the best social circles, the best clubs… He’d been called away to London, with no plans to return for at least a month, because he needed to wrangle his way
into a seat in Parliament. But Aaron said he loved me, that he didn’t want to wait for Freddie to return to start our life together.”
Suspicion pricked the little hairs at Pearce’s nape. And dread that he knew where her story was heading.
“So we married anyway.” She took the glass from him, her hand trembling as she raised it to her lips. “Because he lived in York and only visited Birmingham on business, he’d already gotten a special license so that we didn’t have to worry about the banns, one that let us marry in any parish. We’d planned to marry, then drive on to surprise Freddie in London with the good news. Aaron had heard there was a lovely little village three hours’ drive southeast of Birmingham with a pleasant vicar and a fine inn.” She smiled ruefully against the rim of the glass. “A marriage and a honeymoon, all in one. Such a romantic idea…so of course I agreed.”
Pearce said nothing as she took another swallow. Drink would be good for her and give her the courage to get through this. His only consolation was that after tonight there could be no more secrets.
She frowned at the whiskey. “We married as planned, but never had our wedding night. He changed his mind after the ceremony, said that he wanted our first time together to be in our home, not in an inn. So we took separate rooms.” She shook her head. “I should have known something was wrong right then, because what new husband finds excuses to avoid coming to his bride’s bed on their wedding night, even at what turned out to be a flea-ridden tavern?” She idly traced a fingertip around the rim of the glass. “At the time, I thought it was just another example of how much he cared about me, just another example of how romantic he was. Such a damned fool I was!”
She tossed back the remaining whiskey in a gasping swallow, then stared down into the empty glass. Not all the tears glistening in her eyes came from the bite of the drink in her throat.
“When I woke, he was gone. He’d left in the night. No word, no note, just…gone. I waited for him there for two days, but he never returned. Finally, I took the mail coach home to Birmingham and found not Aaron at the town house but Freddie. He’d returned unexpectedly from London, only to find a message from our banker. That was when I realized that I was missing more than a husband… I was also missing a fortune.” She lifted her gaze to his, and misery darkened her eyes. “Aaron had gone to the bank and withdrawn every pound and penny I possessed. He took it all, then booked passage on the first ship to Philadelphia.”
“But the settlement—”
“Was never signed,” she admitted with humiliation. “Frederick hadn’t signed it before he left for London. I thought he had. I swear to you that I believed that!”
When she began to gesture emphatically to convince him, she realized what she was doing and stopped, her hand going to her forehead in desolation. Pearce knew not to reach for her, but it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to go to her.
“Freddie had even taken Aaron to the bank, for heaven’s sake, to introduce him to our accountant and the bank manager, to pave the way for settling the dowry and contract. We’d negotiated terms—all three of us. I put my signature to the agreement, so did Aaron. But…” Her pale face twisted with humiliation, and she sucked in a deep breath to gather the courage to continue. “But somehow, in all the excitement of the proposal and the wedding plans, Freddie hadn’t signed it, and without my guardian’s signature, all my property became Aaron’s the moment we wed. Legally, as a minor, my signature meant nothing.” She turned away, too humiliated to look at him. “Aaron told me Freddie had signed it, and I trusted him. Why wouldn’t I? What woman wouldn’t trust her fiancé? I loved him. We were going to share a life together… It never occurred to me that he was lying. About everything.” A hoarse, bitter sound came from her throat. “The only thing he wasn’t able to take in his hurry to flee was Bradenhill.”
A grim realization settled over Pearce. That was why the property was so important to her, why she was fighting the trust tooth and nail. Not because of her charity, although he was certain she wanted to use it for that, but because it was all she had left.
“Did your brother go after him,” he asked quietly, attempting to fill in the blanks, “try to bring him back and force him to return your money?”
She gave a jerking nod. “Freddie hired lawyers and thief-takers, went so far as to hire two men from Bow Street to find him and bring him back by force, if necessary. But it was all for nothing. Aaron had vanished, and my fortune along with him, with no way to get it back even if we found him. Because Aaron had every right to take it. He and I were legally married.” A single tear slipped down her cheek and ripped open his heart as she choked back a sob. “We still are.”
* * *
Unable to bear any look of recrimination or pity from him, Amelia turned her back and lifted her hand to her mouth to physically press down the anguish swelling inside her. How could Pearce understand all that had happened to her, when she could barely fathom it herself?
“He took everything from me,” she choked out. “My fortune, my happiness…my future.” Her shoulders trembled as she pulled in deep lungfuls of air to find the strength to keep from falling to the floor. “Now he’s taken you.”
“No, he hasn’t.” Pearce stepped up behind her and slipped his arms around her, to wrap her securely in his embrace. “I’ll never leave you again, understand? Never.”
She didn’t have the resolve to nod. Emotion overwhelmed her, and she simply gave up, shutting her eyes against the pain and humiliation.
“We will find a way out of this together, Amelia. I promise you.”
Oh, he was wrong! There was no way out of her marriage. She’d pored through her lack of options so many times before that she no longer held any hope of finding one. “It takes an act of Parliament to grant a divorce,” she rasped, “and neither the courts nor the Church recognizes abandonment as grounds.”
“They recognize adultery. I’m certain he hasn’t been faithful to his marriage vows during the years he’s been away. ” His arms tightened around her, but his embrace gave her little comfort. “We’ll hire new investigators, send more Bow Street runners to find him—and find evidence of what he’s been doing. ”
Her heart wrenched. He was trying to rescue her. Even now. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not asking. I’m giving.” He nuzzled his cheek against her hair. “We’re working together now, remember? That includes this.”
His kindness tore a desolate sob from her. “Even if you helped me,” she whispered, the truth of her situation both undeniable and brutal, “it’s not enough. A woman has to prove not only adultery on the part of her husband but cruelty as well. How do I do that when he’s put an ocean between us?”
She turned in his arms and buried her face against his shoulder, desperately needing the strength of his embrace and his steadiness.
“None of it matters anyway,” she murmured, slipping her arms around his waist to pull herself even closer. If she could have found a way to crawl beneath his skin, she would have done it. “Even if what he did could be considered cruelty, the divorce proceedings would be public. All of what happened would come to light.” Her hands clutched at his back, her anchor in the storm. “I’d be branded as immoral for eloping, my reputation ruined. And when society learns that he took my money and left me, they’ll all say that I deserved it. Just deserts for an upstart cit attempting to wheedle her way into the ton.” A sob choked in her throat. “I’ll be a laughingstock. No one will shop at my store. The charity will be ruined.”
Pearce said nothing. But there was nothing to say. They both knew she was right.
“Freddie will be destroyed right along with me,” she added, her whisper barely loud enough to reach him. “That’s why we hid it, never breathing a word to anyone. Freddie only has his seat in Parliament because of his connections. He didn’t buy it as everyone thinks because we didn’t have the money after I
eloped. But if the men who put him there ever think that his reputation has been tainted by mine, his influence limited in any way, he’ll lose his seat. For all of that, we both had to keep my mistake hidden. But a divorce hearing…” An anguished sound rose from the back of her throat. “Our lives will be ruined.”
“This is what you meant when you told me that your brother took care of you,” he said quietly, “when you had financial trouble.”
“I couldn’t tell you the truth. Not then.” She didn’t lift her head from his shoulder, afraid of the recrimination she’d see on his face. “I was so ashamed of admitting what had happened, how stupid I’d been.”
“You trusted a man you loved, one you thought loved you.” He placed a kiss to her temple. “There’s no fault in that.”
She shook her head against his shoulder. “I can’t escape him. Don’t you see? I don’t care about the money. I’d surrender every ha’penny just to be free of him, but I can’t escape! And I can’t marry anyone else.” She sucked in a pained breath and confessed her darkest secret… “Do you have any idea how horrible it is to live day to day praying for a man to die just so you can be free?” She shuddered, the guilt overwhelming. “What kind of evil person does that make me? That I would be happy if he were dead?”
Pearce touched her chin and lifted her head gently to place a soothing kiss to her lips. “It doesn’t make you evil. It makes you human.” Another kiss, and this time, she tasted forgiveness. “But that can’t be the only way out of this marriage. We will find another one. Together.”
Oh, how she wished that were true! How desperately she wanted to claim back the life that had been denied her with Pearce.
But she knew better. She’d spent too many years desperately attempting to find a way, only to hit dead ends at every turn. There was no hope for them.
Fairy tales and wishes never came true.
“I’m married.” She stepped back, slipping free of his arms. “Nothing can change that. Divorce, annulment—both are impossible for me.”
An Unexpected Earl Page 20
