Karla Darcy - [Sweet Deception Regency 04] (10 page)

Pax's voice, sounding strained with worry, met Leslie as she crossed the threshold. Lady Titwiliver, face pallid except for two spots of excited color high on her cheeks, was seated in a high-backed, thronelike chair. A glass of spirits was close at hand, but the old woman needed no fortification. Warm brown eyes, sober with perception, locked with blue eyes, filmy with despair. Leslie felt as though the woman were examining her mind, searching the corners of her soul.

"Come over here, child," Lady Titwiliver said kindly.

Without hesitation she moved to stand in front of the old lady. A hint of a smile crossed Leslie's lips as she took in the broken feathers drooping sadly above the white hair.

"I'm sorry about the feathers, Lady Titwiliver," Leslie said. Her soft words apologizing for far more than the ruined headdress.

"It wasn't your fault, my dear." The pink mouth smiled gently, then puckered sadly as the older woman stared at the brave little figure before her. "I'm sorry, my child."

"Would you two kindly tell me what is going on here?" Pax burst out in exasperation.

"All in good time, nephew," Nell said, her eyes never leaving Leslie's face.

"Perhaps this would help, milady."

Reaching into her jacket, Leslie pulled out her birth records and placed them into the blue-veined hand. The papers crackled as the old woman opened them, raising her lorgnette in a surprisingly steady hand to read the fine print. Lifting her eyes from the paper, her gaze was somber, but she sent a message of courage to the taut figure before her.

"It's as I suspected. I knew your father. He was a fine soldier."

"Thank you, ma'am." Leslie felt her composure cracking under the kindness of the old woman.

"Devil take it, Nell! What is all this?"

Realizing her nephew was at the end of his patience, Nell turned to Pax, wondering how to begin. She pursed her mouth, catching the bottom lip between thumb and forefinger. Then in decision, she placed her hands on Leslie's papers and leaned forward in her chair.

"Philip Lathrup had one child, born in Peshawar. His wife Florence died at the birth. I was in India at the time, and I attended the baby's christening. The child was named Leslie Kathryn Julianne Lathrup. A lovely blue-eyed girl."

Pax's face was expressionless as the older woman's words replayed in his mind. In slow motion, he sank into the leather chair, staring accusingly at his ward across the mahogany surface.

"A girl," he whispered. "It can't be true."

"I'm sorry, sir." Leslie's response was made in a quietly controlled voice.

The silence that followed was almost physical. Through narrowed eyes, Pax stared at the figure of his ward trying to find the girl beneath the young man's clothes. Leslie braced herself for the expected explosion.

"It's not possible!" Pax slammed his open hand onto the desktop. "I would have known!"

Leslie's eyes softened as Pax hurled himself to his feet and paced back and forth across the room. In a tiny pocket of her mind, she could almost find humor in the situation. No self-respecting author would ever consider such a contrived plot for the hero to unravel.

"It's not your fault," she said. "Five years ago I looked like a ten-year-old boy. You were only here for that one summer. It was easy to be a carefree child, eager to learn everything you could teach me. Since then, you've only been home for a week or two at a time. You saw what you expected to see." Leslie shrugged, running out of words as she met the smoldering black eyes of her guardian.

"Why in God's name did you lie to me?" Pax's voice now was controlled, the tone as biting as a shard of ice.

"I wanted to stay."

The softly spoken answer was filled with pathos. Tears started in Nell's eyes as she perceived the stark emotion behind the words. She had been aware of the child for most of the evening. And now, watching the parade of emotions on the girl's face, Nell realized that Leslie was in love with Pax. She wondered if the girl was aware of the fact. Mouth pursed in concentration, the old woman tapped the edge of her lorgnette against her lips and watched the combatants facing each other.

"I was your guardian. You should have told me." Pax ran his fingers through his hair, his face condemning the girl's actions. "It was deceitful, indecent and altogether stupid."

Leslie drew herself up, chin jutting out proudly. "Perhaps it was. But at the time I thought I had no choice. When I arrived at Windhaven, I felt as though I belonged. If your father had been alive, I would have been welcomed. With him gone, I knew you would have no choice but to send me elsewhere." Her voice broke and she fought to maintain control, swallowing several times before she was able to continue. "I was fourteen years old. I had spent my life in India, alone for all intents and purposes, except for Manji and Jacko. I wanted a home."

"Those two!" Pax's mind was unable to take in her words, but latched onto the names of her cohorts. He threw up his hands in exasperation. "I will personally murder them. How could they possibly countenance such an act of insanity?"

"They followed my orders!" Leslie shouted, losing her temper in defense of her friends. "They fought against it. They argued, but I thought it was my only choice. In the end they had to agree. They had sworn a blood oath to my father that they would protect me. Since I refused to listen to them, they remained to keep me safe."

"I am overwhelmed by their devotion." Pax's voice was cutting, meant to hurt her.

"Until I came here, Jacko and Manji were my family. Father was involved with army business. The army was his life. He had little need of a daughter. A daughter could never follow in his footsteps. He had wanted a boy who could carry on the family name. He was uncomfortable with a girl, so he treated me like the son he wanted."

"That's no excuse for your behavior," Pax snapped, crossing the room to tower over the girl.

Leslie drew herself up, blue eyes flashing fire. "I am not excusing my behavior, you overbearing bully. I am simply stating facts."

"How dare you call me a bully!" Pax shouted, losing control at the frustrating situation. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he continued his voice was tired. "I can see now that I should have beaten you regularly, and then perhaps you would have had some common sense."

"The last time you tried it, I bit you," Leslie spat back.

"I caned you for jumping that confounded hunter over the garden hedge. It was sheer luck he tossed you without breaking your stubborn neck." His face paled and he slammed his fist onto the mantel. "Good God in Heaven! Look what you've done. I have just admitted to beating a girl child."

Leslie almost smiled at the consternation on Pax's face, but as he lifted his shaggy head, the angry confusion in his eyes sobered her immediately. She wanted to reach out and touch him, telling him that everything would be all right. Leslie knew she could not undo five years of duplicity but wished she could soothe the bewildered hurt in Pax's eyes.

"Believe me, Pax," Leslie begged, using his name for the first time since she had entered the library. "I never intended for you to find out like this. Ironically, in two more days I would have been gone. Manji, Jacko and I decided it was time for us to leave Windhaven. Now of course we will leave immediately."

"No!"

So involved had Leslie and Pax been with their argument, they had forgotten that anyone else was in the room. Both pairs of eyes swung to Lady Titwiliver who lifted the glass of brandy to her lips. Unconcerned by their startled expressions, the old lady sipped slowly, rolling the biting liquor over her tongue in enjoyment. Then setting it regretfully on the table, she turned her attention to the young people.

"How old are you, child?"

"N-nineteen," Leslie stammered in confusion.

"Old enough, thank the Lord. Never did believe in cradle robbing."

"Absolutely not!" Pax understood immediately the implications of her statement. "It's out of the question!"

"Cut line, nephew. You have no alternative." The old woman folded her hands complacently in her ample lap. "Imagine the scandal. It will be the
on-dit
of the century. I can imagine all the gossipmongers happily gloating over the rapacious behavior of that rake, the Duke of Ruhaven."

"It'll blow over, Aunt Nell." Pax's voice was harsh as he glared at the pursed-lipped old woman. "There will be another nine days wonder, and it will all be forgotten."

"Never think it, my boy. Something this juicy comes along very rarely. I myself could dine out on the story for the next year." Her voice lowered to conspiratorial tones, mimicking the talebearers of the
ton.
"Of course, the Duke
says
he was unaware of the girl's identity. But everyone knows his reputation. It's hard to believe such a renowned womanizer wouldn't be able to tell the difference...." Her voice trailed away into the silence of the room.

"What is it?" Leslie asked in bewilderment. "I don't understand."

Nell ignored the frightened girl, concentrating solely on her nephew as she continued her mimicry. "And now the Duke plans for the girl's come out. It's the outside of enough! She'll get nothing from me but the cut direct."

"You win, Aunt Nell." Pax's voice was dry as he nodded his acceptance. "I get your point."

Leslie's eyes raced back and forth between the two people in the room. She was locked out of their conversation but knew something was being decided that was integrally centered on her.

"Please, milady. Pax? What are you talking about?"

Her heart beat thunderously as Pax turned an expressionless face to her. He stared across the room, his eyes assessing. For a moment there was a hint of sympathy for her but then he turned to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy, gulping it down with a shudder of his muscular frame. Turning toward Leslie he spoke, his voice cold in its formality.

"Although I am sure you would prefer a more formal declaration, I fear there is little enough time." His voice was sarcastic, confusing her further. "You are confined to your room until Lady Titwiliver and I can work out the details. Then, at the first opportunity after I have procured a special license, we will be married."

Chapter Six

"We're leaving tonight, Jacko." Leslie's jaw jutted out pugnaciously as she tried to outstare the glowering old man. A creature at bay, she stood with her back to the windows. Her clear blue eyes glittered coldly against her pale face.

"Talk sense, Leslie. The Duke will never permit it."

"I did not intend to broadcast the news," she snapped. "I will not marry the man."

"The Duke would make you a fine husband. Your father himself couldn't have found you a better match. Rich as any nob and a fine figure of a gentleman. Can't imagine what you're up in the boughs for, just because he's a bit miffed finding out you've been having him on all these years. He's a fair man, for all that he shouts." Jacko shivered, remembering his interview with Leslie's guardian.

"Was it bad?" she asked. Her face softened perceptibly and she reached out, her fingers smoothing the sleeve of Jacko's jacket.

"The Captain in his worst temper was a wee babe compared to the Duke in a lather." A genuine smile crossed the old man's face as he recalled Leslie's father dressing down a slovenly soldier. "I'd give a guinea to have served under the Duke."

Leslie frowned her displeasure. No finer compliment would ever fall from her friend's lips. She refused to listen to his praise of Pax. She had spent the night and most of the day making her decision. Jacko had always followed her without question, and now was not the time for the old man to have divided loyalties.

"The Duke could have turned us off, you know. Manji and I were in the wrong. But after ranting a bit, he told us that only our loyalty to you and your father saved us." Jacko did not mention that Pax had concluded that he realized how headstrong and unreasonable women could be and therefore could partially excuse their agreeing to a cloth-eared plan by an undisciplined brat. The old man suspected Leslie would be less than delighted by the Duke's words.

"Jacko, listen to me carefully. I have absolutely no intention of marrying the Duke. I am leaving tonight with or without you."

The white-haired man stared into the determined eyes of the young girl. He had known her all her life, knew every nuance of her voice. It was clear that her decision had been made. His shoulders slumped in defeat. For himself, there was no decision to make. Even if he lived to regret it, Jacko could never let Leslie go off on her own. He had known since morning the outcome of this discussion, but he had pursued the argument out of habit rather than any strong conviction that he could influence her decision. Straightening his shoulders, Jacko was once again the soldier on parade.

"We leave tonight, Daffadar."

Leslie's chin trembled, and her eyes overflowed as Jacko opened his arms to her. She bowed her head against his chest, remembering so many other times when he had comforted her in moments of despair. The broken leg of her first pony, a fight with a friend and the final agony of her father's death. Memories floated through her mind as she clung to her lifeline of security. Then sniffing loudly, she moved away from the embrace, smiling damply.

"Thank you, old friend. Will you talk to Manji?"

"It will be done."

After Jacko's departure, Leslie stared forlornly at the closed door. She wanted to curl up and forget everything. She had not slept the night before, and her brain felt soggy with myriad details that whirled in her consciousness. Standing beside the bed, she picked up the music box which once more held her birth papers. On leaden feet, Leslie carried it to the wardrobe, rummaging inside until she found her frayed portmanteau. She remembered the night she had arrived at Windhaven with the luggage clutched in her hand. She had hoped never to use it again. With a sigh, Leslie gently placed the music box in the bottom of the bag.

As she traveled around the room, selecting and rejecting articles for her escape, five years of happy memories assailed her until the pain was almost unbearable. How she hated the thought of leaving Windhaven.