An Unnatural Daughter: A Dark Regency Mystery (22 page)

BOOK: An Unnatural Daughter: A Dark Regency Mystery
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The door slammed downstairs and I jumped. Damien smiled and squeezed my hand, dropping it slowly and trailing his fingers over the back as he moved away. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. The rough pads of his fingers grazed my skin so gently that it almost hurt. In a second I was nervous to be alone with him. Then Edwina came in, and I felt a rush of annoyance. This repeated itself when I saw that she was closely followed by Tristan.

‘Damien!’ Edwina swooped forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I was hoping you’d still be here.’

‘Damien.’ Tristan gave a nod and threw himself into one of my little chairs. It gave a slight cracking sound.

‘How lovely – oh good, you’ve got tea, I’ll ring for some more.’ Edwina dropped her pretty bonnet on the table and crossed to the bell pull. ‘You’ll stay, won’t you, dear? We’ve the most wonderful haddock for dinner later if you’d like?’

Damien nodded, leaning casually back on my couch with a smile. He was so comfortable. I peered at him closely, wondering if I’d ever be that comfortable in my own skin again. I wasn’t sure if I ever had been.

‘I liked your picture, Tris.’

Tristan smiled in spite of himself, radiant as ever under the glow of praise.

‘Thanks, Damien. I did it all by myself. Well, Fleur helped, of course, by…’

‘Looking like Fleur,’ I put in. ‘It was terribly trying, I assure you.’

‘Glad I dropped in to see it, at any rate. Any luck selling it?’

Tristan shrugged.

‘Bit of interest here and there, but the commissions I’ve got from it – that’ll set us up for a good few years yet.’

Damien blinked at his nonchalant use of “us”, but let it pass without comment. I knew what he was thinking, and was glad. Let him worry, I thought. I had worried alone about him for the past year. Although, not entirely alone.

‘So what are your plans, Damien? And what have you been doing for the past – is it six months? No, it must be nearer nine, at least.’

‘Almost a year,’ Damien gave a wry smile. ‘Glad you’ve not been missing me too much.’

I dropped my eyes to my tea cup. I didn’t know if he’d chance a glance my way, but didn’t want to risk it.

‘Good heavens, really? It’s fairly flown by – we’ve just been so busy, haven’t we? With Tristan’s work and Fleur’s charities and moving house. But she’ll have told you all that already – what have you been doing?’

‘Walking.’

‘Oh?’

‘That’s really all there is to it. I walked across England and back. Dallied a few places, explored a few more. But essentially, I walked about a bit.’

‘How lovely!’ Edwina clasped her hands in glee. ‘Very poetic. Did you write at all? Any verse?’

Damien laughed.

‘Not my sort of thing I’m afraid. Tris is your man for pretty things. I just walked about. Looked at things, but no poems.’

‘I should like to do something like that,’ Tristan said dreamily, shifting himself into a more poetic attitude on my little chair – his knee over one arm and his arm dangling down onto the floor, swinging gently.

‘Really?’ I was incredulous. I knew how long it took him to get ready to leave the house.

‘Oh, you know, camp under the stars. Sing ballads by the moonlight. To the trees, you know.’

Damien snorted.

‘And a bit of walking?’

‘Oh, I don’t know if I’d have time for that – with all the drawing I’d be doing. I’m not a man of leisure you know – got to work for my living. Of course, that’s why it’ll come to naught.’

Damien shook his head slightly, but left it alone. I smiled pleasantly, and wished I was somewhere else. The room was full of emotions, and emotions of any sort made me feel uncomfortable.

‘Do you know, I might be able to get sponsorship for such a thing, now I think on it,’ Tristan continued, clearly smitten with the idea of a great tour of Britain. ‘That’d be something, wouldn’t it? Might talk to my patron about it.’

‘As it happens, Edwina,’ Damien interrupted, ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay for dinner. Promised I’d see a few fellows from the navy while I was in town. Actually, now you mention it, I said I’d see Guy – that’s one of them – a bit earlier so we could share a hack. Best be off, really. Thanks for the tea, Fleur.’

And he was gone, sudden as anything, and he left a space in that chair. For a moment, Edwina and I looked at the door as though we could see the echoes of his passing through it. She sighed, then rubbed her hands together and gave me an encouraging smile, before changing the subject entirely.

Tristan stayed for dinner, but he always did. While Edwina lived with me as something of a chaperone, he officially resided in lodgings on the other side of town, making much of his bachelor status and hinting at boisterous goings on, but he dined with us almost every night, and stayed in one of the guest bedrooms nine times out of ten. Sometimes I longed to be alone, but other times I was frightened by my own company. I was scared of myself, but I worried that I hadn’t given myself a chance. I still didn’t know who I really was, beneath those parts of me shaped by my upbringing and my parents.

That day I was listless. I grew quickly tired of Tristan prattling on about the walking tour I doubted he would ever take, and was glad when Edwina shepherded him out under the pretence of asking his opinion on the silk I had chosen for the drawing room. I stayed in my sitting room, and tried to stop myself thinking about Damien. I hated the turbulence he brought into my life, I hated how I both knew what he was thinking but also didn’t understand him at all. And how he seemed to be the same with me.

It was chilly, and the maid lit the fires and I gave her a smile because I knew it was important to be nice to those who looked after you. I was content, I supposed. Edwina mothered me, and Tristan gently wooed me and I kept myself busy, and we carried on. It was calm and quiet, and I daresay unremarkable. But I had missed Damien. I had missed him a great deal, particularly through the first few months.

I was stronger now, though. I resisted the urge to sit on the couch he had sat in. I wouldn’t be weak. I didn’t want anyone there, I didn’t need any men to complicate my life or tell me what to do or lie to me. That was what men did – lie and ruin other people’s lives. But not Tristan, merely a good-natured, gentle soul, and perhaps not Damien, for all that he was war weary. I just didn’t know.

Peregrine tapped lightly on my door – there, another man who I could trust.

‘Is dinner ready? Sorry, I lost track of time.’ I made to leave the room but he detained me with a little bow of the sort I’d asked him not to do, because it pretended he was inferior. I sighed, but he was smiling, and looked remarkably boyish.

‘It’ll be half an hour yet. I’ve a letter for you.’

‘Oh?’

He grinned even wider and handed it to me. ‘Let me know if you want a response delivering.’

It was a thin square of folded paper, sealed with a blob of wax, into which was pressed a dried leaf. I pursed my lips.

‘Damn your impudence, George.’

He grinned again and gave another little bow as he backed out of the room.

Staring at the letter in my hand, I backed onto the couch and laid it on the cushions beside me. I should probably open it. But I didn’t want to do it straight away. It was delicious, the feeling of anticipation. Perhaps I had missed having a little excitement after all.

Closed, the paper could say anything. It could declare his undying love. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure I wanted that. But it was nice to pretend, for just for a moment. Like I used to pretend I could marry Tristan. I frowned, and before I could change my mind, reached out and split the seal.

I’d never seen his writing before. It was more like a print than anything else, but there was a beauty in his penmanship, for all that it lacked the finesse of some men’s that I had seen.

 

Fleur.

I’d like it if you’d meet me. Away from the house, so nobody can hear us. Not beneath the stars, I’m afraid, but somewhere it will only be you and I in the world, with no obligations and nobody to judge us. And you can just be the girl who wasn’t Alice. If you can get to the museum gardens tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be there from two, at the statue of Apollo. You need feel no obligation to come, if you don’t want.

Orlando.

 

I stared at the paper in my lap, gently tracing my fingers over the letters of his signature. I wanted Orlando back. I think that was all I had ever wanted; to live eternally in that carefree idyll between the wood and the walls. Yet I knew that could never be. I didn’t want Damien like that.

CHAPTER 29

The Future

 

 

 

 

 

I found Apollo easily. Although he was a slight distance away from the museum, his bronzed torso rose above the hedges, meaning that the fountain at his feet was reassuringly screened from view. And there sat Damien, on the fountain edge, leaning back on his hands, watching the clouds roll overhead.

‘You came,’ he said as he rose to greet me.

I hung back, preserving the space between us.

‘It seemed important.’

‘You never used to be so coy,’ he said.

‘I like irritating you,’ I replied. ‘I think it’s one of my favourite things.’

He smiled at that.

‘And you came alone?’ Damien peered behind me, as though expecting to see Tristan materialise from out of the hedge.

‘I said I needed some air. They don’t watch over me all the time you know, they’re my friends, not my keepers.’

He shrugged.

‘You must know why I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Oh no,’ I stepped back again until my back brushed the hedge. ‘I’m not guessing. You asked me here, I came, now say what you wanted to say.’

Damien raised his brows at that.

‘My, you have grown up. Fine, tell me, are you engaged to Tristan?’

‘No,’ I replied bluntly. ‘Are you?’

He laughed, and his voice was softer.

‘Damn it, Fleur. Do you love him?’

I shook my head and plucked at the tiny stray shoots beneath my fingers.

‘Shouldn’t you be asking if I love you?’

That floored him, and I was glad.

‘Do you?’ he whispered.

I shook my head again. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to.’

Damien smiled, and looked at me with pride, which surprised me.

‘Won’t you sit? I’d like to talk to you.’

My hands lingered against the hedge behind me, but I pushed myself forward and sat beside him on the edge of the fountain, ensuring there were several feet of stone between us.

‘The thing of it is, I’m almost entirely sure I’m in love with you, Fleur.’

I stared down into the fountain, watching the ripples and bubbles, but not really looking. Just not looking at him.

‘I knew I was falling for you at the house, so when everything happened and I saw how you struggled after Gabriel died, it would have been so easy to just – I don’t know – to take advantage of you. You didn’t need Tristan and me scrapping over you when you could barely understand your own feelings.’

‘I see.’

‘When I say it now, it sounds presumptuous. But I didn’t want to presume anything. I couldn’t trust myself not to try and look after you, so I left. I hoped you’d get stronger on your own, because you didn’t need anyone. Least of all someone you’d come to depend on.’

I stared into the water still, trying to consider what he was saying but really, struggling to think over the pounding of my heart.

‘You assume I would have come to rely on you?’ I tried to sound stung, but I knew it was true.

‘You needed to become your own person. You weren’t before, because you didn’t know who you were. Perhaps you still aren’t, I don’t know. Maybe I was wrong.’

I shrugged, and refused to meet his eye.

‘I thought perhaps,’ he continued, ‘even if you’d not be happier alone, that you’d be better off with Tristan than with me. He’s a boy, really. He’s not as warped as I am. And he loves you.’

‘He doesn’t love me.’ I jerked my head up to face him. ‘He thinks he does, but he just likes the idea of me. He just likes how against Gabriel, I won. That’s not real love. He idolizes this image of me, and he’s put it in a painting. That won’t last.’

‘Far be it from me to do down another man’s feelings, but I think you might be right. But I don’t know. Either way, he could be good for you. He can offer you marriage, children, money, and a fair degree of fame as his muse, if that painting’s anything to go by.’

A breeze made the hedges hush and sway, and blew ripples on the surface of the water. I watched them all as I considered what to say.

‘Did you ask me here to advise me to marry Tristan?’ I said finally.

No, no.’ Damien chuckled. ‘If I was doing that, I’d tell you to marry me.’

‘I don’t want to marry.’

‘I don’t care.’

I looked at him curiously, suddenly afraid. Surely he wouldn’t force me. He couldn’t, I reassured myself. I was my own woman now.

‘I want you to come away with me.’

I laughed, relief and disbelief mingling.

‘I’m serious. I want to travel more. Europe, this time. Then America. And I think you should come with me.’

‘But you don’t want to marry me?’ I eyed him with suspicion.

‘Oh no, I do.’ Damien leaned back and trailed his fingertips over the surface of the water. ‘But you don’t have to if you don’t want.’

‘You’re playing very easily with my virtue,’ I said ponderously, trying to keep my tone light. ‘If I had one to lose.’

‘I don’t give a damn about your virtue, and I don’t think you do either. Do you?’

I laughed again. ‘Not really.’

‘Well then. Let’s travel together. We can see everything the world has to offer and have glorious fun doing it.’

‘What if I don’t love you? What if I can’t?’ I turned to him fully now, wanting him to see how serious I was. I was scared I couldn’t love him – that I couldn’t be the woman he imagined I was.

He shrugged.

‘I’ll not lie – I’d much rather you did. I think as time goes on – every minute I spend with you, I fall a little deeper. But I swear.’ He took my hand in his own, warm and ungloved, and addressed it, not me. ‘I’ll never press you. But I love you, there’s no use sidestepping it. But more than that, I truly, truly like you. I like who you’ve become, and I like who you were.’

I stared at my hand where he held it, and he glanced up before placing it reverently back on the stone.

‘I’m not in love with Tristan,’ I said, answering him finally.

‘No,’ I heard the smile in his voice. ‘I’d gathered as much. Women in love don’t tend to meet other men by fountains.’

‘I’ll make a note of that.’

The wind began to whip up around us, but in the oasis around the fountain, sheltered by the high hedges, I couldn’t feel it.  All I could see was the whirling leaves, spiralling high above us.

‘I still don’t know what I want,’ I said quietly. ‘If I should ever have children. If I should marry. If I can ever be happy in my own skin. The charities helped, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable with what I am, or what I did. I’m a mess, Damien, and you don’t really know me. Not really. I’ve got better – better than I was at any rate, but there are still days – more than I’d rather, where I wonder if…’ I had to swallow hard before continuing. ‘If I should end it. If it’s all worth it.’

Damien reached for my hand again, and held it tightly.

‘I’m not who Tristan thinks I am,’ I continued, ‘but I don’t know that I’m who you think either. It’s been a long time, Damien, since I last saw you, and the fact is that I’m a liability. I’m a hindrance rather than a help.’

‘You’re not Alice,’ he said with a smile, cocking his head to one side.

‘That’s certainly true.’ I managed a smile, but I felt as though my insides were dissolving and bubbling away, like the fountain. The more I protested, the more I wanted Damien to love me.

‘You’re the best man I’ve ever met. You care, not just about me, but about everything. And you were right – I did need the time without you. But I’m not right yet, I’m not normal and I don’t know if I ever will be. And you don’t really know me.’

He squeezed my hand again, and leaned forward, his face mere inches from mine.

‘I don’t know your favourite colour, although I now know how you take your tea. I think you like Shakespeare – and I know you like gardening. But that doesn’t matter. I have the rest of my life to learn that. I know who you are, in there. That’s what’s important. And if you don’t know yourself yet – at least you’ve started. And I’d like to be there as you find out, finding out with you.’

My resolve faltered, and melted away.

‘Ask me again,’ I whispered. ‘Ask me to come away with you again.’

Damien smiled.

‘Come travelling with me, Fleur? Please?’

‘Maybe,’ I said.

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