Gail Whitiker (20 page)

He left her soon after, but as Robert climbed into his carriage, there was but one thought on his mind.
He had to find out who Hannah was.
That was now the single most important thing in his life. Because he knew it was the only hope he had of convincing her to marry him.

Hannah loved him. She could have hated him, and probably should have, given the callous way he’d treated her over the years. But she didn’t hate him. Her passionate response to his kisses had assured him that she loved him as deeply as he loved her. But he was not so foolish as to believe that she would marry him.

Hannah didn’t know who she was and because of that, she wouldn’t risk sullying his name or his title. She might be the daughter of an aristocrat. Or she might be the child of a whore. But until she knew for sure, she wouldn’t marry him or anyone else.

‘Reynolds,’ he called to his driver. ‘Take me to Grosvenor Square.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

It was a gamble, Robert admitted, and a risk, but at
the moment it was the only hope he had. It was the only lead he’d stumbled upon and as slight as it was, it was worth following up. Consequently, a short time later, he stood in the drawing-room of an imposing house in Grosvenor Square, bowing over the hand of the one person he prayed might be able to help him.

‘Good afternoon, Lady Thorpe. I hope you don’t mind my stopping by, but there is something of great import I need to ask you.’

‘R
OBERT
,
whatever is the matter?’ Lady Thorpe asked. ‘You seem unusually disturbed about something.’

‘I am, and in truth, the matter I’ve come to speak to you about is highly unusual,’ he admitted. ‘It is also distressful in that there are facts about certain people you’ll be very surprised to hear. But before I begin, I must have your word that what I am about to tell you will go no further than this room.’

‘Of course, Robert, if that is what you wish. But what in the world is this mystery about?’

‘It concerns Hannah.’

‘Oh, dear.’ Lady Thorpe’s surprise quickly gave way to concern. ‘Nothing’s happened to the sweet child, I hope?’

‘No, nothing at all. Hannah’s fine.’

‘Then, what is it?’

Robert took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of his life. ‘There’s really no easy way to say this, Lady Thorpe, so I may as well just say it straight out. Hannah is not my sister.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ The older woman stared at him in bewilderment. ‘How can she not be your sister?’

‘I know this is going to be difficult for you to believe but—’ he took another deep breath ‘—my mother only pretended that Hannah was her natural born daughter. In fact, Hannah was abandoned in my mother’s carriage when she was only a few weeks old.’

‘Good God!’

‘Yes, I thought you would be surprised.’

‘Surprised!’ Lady Thorpe sank weakly into a chair. ‘That does not even
begin
to describe it. Hannah was left in your mother’s carriage, and your mother actually brought her home and raised her?’

‘Incredible as it seems, yes, that is exactly what happened.’

‘But why? And how did you come to learn of this most bizarre happenstance?’

‘It was told to me by my mother’s first cousin, Lady MacInnes, when she came down from Scotland for Mama’s funeral.’

‘And you’d had no inkling prior to that?’

‘I’d held a few beliefs of my own, but as it turned out, they were only partially correct.’ Robert then proceeded to tell Lady Thorpe, in whatever detail he felt necessary, the incredible story of how Hannah had come to live at Gillingdon Park. He did not tell her about his feelings for Hannah, fearing she would have enough to come to terms with as it was.

At the conclusion of the tale, Lady Thorpe was silent for a long time. Robert held his breath, wondering what form her reaction would take. When it came, it was almost anticlimactic. ‘Dear me, Robert,’ Lady Thorpe said. ‘This
would
set Society on its ear.’

‘Yes, I dare say it would. Which is why I have asked for your complete silence in the matter.’

‘And you shall have it, of course. I’m not sure I would even
wish
to be the one to make the news known.’ Lady Thorpe glanced at him again. ‘And you say that your sis…that is, that Hannah is determined to find out who she is and where she came from?’

‘I’m afraid so. She says she can have no life as things are now.’

‘Well, in all honesty, I can see why the poor girl would feel that way. Imagine finding out after all these years that Lady Winthrop wasn’t really her mother. At least not in the truest sense.’ Lady Thorpe sighed, and shook her head again. ‘Dear me, Robert, I think it would be best for all concerned if you just encouraged her to continue the charade. You must know what her life will be if this gets out. The
ton
can be merciless in their condemnation, and if they do not take her to heart, she will be subjected to the most hurtful gossip and recrimination.’

Robert nodded. ‘I know. But it is
her
life, Lady Thorpe. I can only suggest what I think would be appropriate. But I do know that every day Hannah is forced to continue the charade, the harder for her it becomes.’

‘Have you any leads at all?’

‘None. That is why when you told me that Hannah reminded you of someone, I felt I had to take a chance on following it up.’

‘Yes, I can see why you would. And there’s no question that she does remind me of someone. I only wish I could remember who it was, now that I am fully aware of the circumstances.’

‘Lady Thorpe, I am asking you with all my heart to try to remember,’ Robert said. ‘I know it may be nothing, but in the absence of any other leads, it is imperative that I follow up on this one.’

‘Have you made any mention of this to Hannah?’

‘No. I refuse to raise her hopes unnecessarily. If anything, I have been rather blunt in telling her that I believe it highly unlikely we will find any links to her past in existence.’

Lady Thorpe nodded. ‘That’s probably for the best. Better she be prepared for the worst than wait in hopeful
anticipation of good news. Because for the life of me, I cannot imagine how you would go about discovering the truth of her origins now.’

‘Unless it is through a link to this person you say she resembles,’ Robert said. ‘But if, as I suspect, the trail dies with no leads, I do intend to try to convince Hannah to continue with her existing identity.’

‘In which case, you will tell no one else the truth?’

‘I believe the less people who know, the better. The few who do know can be trusted to keep silent, but the more people
outside
our immediate circle who learn of it, the greater the risk of exposure.’

‘Well, I shall certainly keep the matter to myself. I shall not even breathe a word of it to my husband,’ Lady Thorpe promised as she walked Robert to the door. ‘I can be mindful of what my own tongue says, but I cannot say the same for anyone else’s!’

The meeting with Lady Thorpe had gone better than he’d hoped, but it had been difficult nonetheless. Robert found sharing news like this with people outside the family extremely discomforting, because he’d meant what he’d said about every additional person who knew increasing the risk.

Unfortunately, it seemed his day was not destined to improve. When he arrived back home, it was to find James Stanford waiting for him in his study. ‘Afternoon, Winthrop.’

Robert stared at him in surprise. ‘James, what brings you here?’

‘Your absent-mindedness.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Did you forget that we were to be at Monsieur Rochefort’s an hour ago?’

‘Damn and
blast
! Yes, I had, and that is most unlike me.’

‘Exactly. So what’s at the heart of it, my friend? A business matter or a romantic one?’

For some reason, hearing his forgetfulness broken down into such simple terms made Robert smile. ‘What makes you think it is one or the other?’

‘Intuition. A woman makes a man forget all things by virtue of her sweetness. A business problem makes him forget everything out of fear of ruination.’

Robert thought carefully for a moment, reluctant to disclose too much. ‘If you must know, I went to see Lady Thorpe on a matter of some urgency.’

‘Lady Thorpe?’ Stanford’s brow puckered. ‘Shouldn’t it have been Lord Thorpe you went to see if you were enquiring after his daughter’s hand?’

‘Had it been his daughter’s hand I was enquiring after, I suppose it should have,’ Robert said dryly. ‘But as it happens, my discussions with Lady Thorpe had nothing to do with Caroline.’

‘Then what urgent matters were they about?’

‘Regretfully, nothing I can discuss with you at the moment, but I shall go round to Monsieur Rochefort and extend my most sincere apologies.’

‘I shouldn’t worry about it,’ Stanford assured him. ‘I took advantage of your absence to have a private lesson with him. I dare say you will see some improvement in my parries the next time we are so engaged.’

Picking up the salver upon which his valet had deposited a number of cards and invitations, Robert smiled. ‘I sincerely hope so. Well, thank you for coming to remind me of my tardiness, James.’

‘Actually, there was another reason for my call.’

‘Oh?’ Robert glanced at his friend and was astonished
to see a dark sweep of colour in his cheeks. ‘All right, out with it. What manner of trouble have you landed yourself in now?’

‘It’s nothing like that, I can assure you,’ Stanford said hastily. ‘But…well, there was something I wanted to speak to you about.’

‘Very well. Speak.’

‘It’s not that easy to put into words.’

‘Try.’

‘Ah. Well, you see, Winthrop, it’s like this.’ Stanford cleared his throat. ‘I’ve taken rather a fancy to your sister, and I’d like to have your permission to pay my addresses to her.’

Robert froze. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You needn’t sound like that,’ Stanford said, misinterpreting the tone. ‘I’ve only the most honourable of intentions in mind. In fact, if it meets with your approval, I’d like to…ask if I might have your permission to speak to Hannah in private.’

‘What?’

‘Well, you did say I should marry a woman of impeccable breeding, and your sister certainly fits the bill in that regard. And she is so incredibly lovely—’

‘James, you barely know her. How many times have you seen her?’

‘No more than three, I admit.’

‘And on the strength of three visits, you feel you know her well enough to propose marriage to her?’

‘Why not? I know how I
feel
about her.’

‘Really.’ Robert’s tone was withering. ‘Not so long ago, you were telling me how you
felt
about Miss Blazel, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her!’

‘Yes, but you made me see the error of my ways, and
you were absolutely right,’ Stanford said. ‘As lovely as Miss Blazel is, she would never have made me a suitable bride. But your sister, well, I cannot think of any lady whom it would please me more to gift with my name and my title.’

Robert slowly put down the silver salver and tried to marshal his thoughts.
Damn it.
A few months ago he would have been delighted to hear of his friend’s change of heart. Now he was anything but. It was Caroline Thorpe he’d hoped to encourage his friend to fall in love with, not Hannah. But how was he to discourage it? What could he say that would convince Stanford to keep his distance from her without making it sound as if he had reasons of his own for keeping them apart? He certainly couldn’t admit his own affections for Hannah. James still believed her to be his sister. Nor could he admit that Hannah was in love with him, for the very same reasons.

He could claim that Hannah was in love with someone else. But then it would be only natural that Stanford would want to know who the man was. And it would no doubt seem very strange if he, as her brother, was not willing to say.

Still, that route might buy him a little time, Robert thought, well aware that he was grasping at straws. At least it would give him time enough to warn Hannah of James’s intentions.

‘Very well, you may speak to Hannah if you wish, but I feel I should warn you that you may already be too late.’

‘Too late! Do you mean to tell me that someone has stolen a march on me?’ Stanford cried in dismay.

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘But who? I wasn’t aware your sister was seeing any
one here—oh, good Lord. Is it someone from the country?’

Silently thanking James for giving him the answer, Robert nodded. ‘Hannah didn’t wish to say anything, of course, what with Mama’s death, but I do believe she has felt an attachment to the gentleman for some time.’

‘What is the fellow’s name?’

‘His name?’ Robert went blank for a moment. Then, from heaven knew where, the answer came. ‘Philip Twickenham.’ Robert held his breath, praying that Stanford wasn’t familiar with Twickenham’s name, or with the lady to whom he had recently become engaged. Fortunately, it seemed that he was not.

‘Can’t say I know the chap,’ Stanford said slowly. ‘But you say Miss Winthrop is enamoured of him?’

‘I’ve heard her refer to him on more than one occasion as Philip.’

‘Damn!’ Stanford’s face fell. ‘Has he made her an offer, then?’

Robert turned away. ‘I don’t believe so, but that’s not to say one won’t be coming soon.’

Stanford was silent, clearly dismayed by what he’d learned. ‘Winthrop? Have I your permission to speak to your sister alone?’

Alarmed, Robert turned back to his friend. ‘You would speak to her even though you knew she had feelings for someone else?’

‘Yes. Because sometimes ladies pretend affection where they feel none, and hide affections where they are concerned about showing them.’

‘And you think Hannah is…afraid to show you how she really feels about you?’

Stanford blushed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say that precisely,
but I’d rather know for certain. And it was damned good of you to tell me, Robert.’

Not sure whether he’d made the situation better or worse, Robert simply shrugged. ‘Of course. I just wanted to warn you beforehand not to get your hopes up.’

‘I know. As a friend, I would do the same for you,’ Stanford said as he got up to leave. ‘Who knows? Perhaps I will meet with success. All I can do is try. With luck, I’ll do a better job of turning your sister up sweet than this Twickenham fellow ever could!’

Believing it likely that Stanford would pay Hannah a visit in the very near future, Robert set off for his aunt’s house the next morning. He knew how impetuous James could be. If he was anxious to speak his peace before his so-called ‘rival’ in the country did, he would likely do so at the earliest opportunity. Which meant that
he
had to warn Hannah early enough for her to prepare a reasonable excuse—and to make sure their stories were in accord.

‘Robert,’ Hannah said when he was shown into the music-room where she was practising. ‘What a delightful surprise.’

For a moment, Robert allowed himself the simple pleasure of looking at her. She was getting close to the end of her mourning, and this morning was wearing a charming gown of sprigged muslin with a delicate fichu tucked into the bodice. Her dark hair was caught up in a casual cluster of curls, and a few wispy tendrils lay against her temple and throat. Robert thought she had never looked more beautiful.

‘Forgive me interrupting you like this, my dear, but I thought it wise that I come as soon as possible.’

It must have been the tone of his voice, for she im
mediately rose and walked towards him. ‘Why? Has something happened?’