More than Passion (23 page)

* * * *

Geoffrey was kept busy over the next few days, accompanying Leed and Chester on their investigations. One afternoon, the gentlemen went to White’s, one of the larger gaming houses in town. Several of the notes had come directly from White’s to Geoffrey’s solicitors. As Leed had stated earlier, no one could say who had passed the notes, only that they weren’t usual patrons of the establishment. The afternoon wore into the evening as Geoffrey began drinking again. Leed and Chester joined him for a round at a public house and soon Geoffrey began to unburden himself to his friends.

“I’m the worst kind of fool, my friends,” he said.

“Kane,” Chester began, “what are you talking about?”

“I learned a long time ago to never trust a woman. And now look where my trust has gotten me.”

Chester nodded to Leed who took a breath and spoke. “Kane, what exactly happened at Kanewood?”

Geoffrey’s head shot up. “Ah, Leed. I can’t speak of it.”

“I think you should,” Chester insisted.

Geoffrey looked from one man to the other. Finally, he nodded slowly. “She betrayed me.”

“What?” Chester asked. “I don’t believe that Rebecca would ever cuckhold you.”

“No,” Geoffrey said. “She merely strayed. I put the blame on myself.”

“And none on Roberts?” Leed asked.

Geoffrey looked at him sharply. “You knew?”

The other men nodded.

“We’ve long suspected Roberts’s infatuation with your wife,” Chester said gently.

Geoffrey studied the liquor in his glass, silent.

“Kane, tell us what happened.”

Geoffrey took a big swallow of his drink. “I found them in the library.” He paused to take another swallow of his drink, letting the liquid burn a path down his throat. “Roberts was touching her,” he went on. “His lips on her skin ….”

“What was Rebecca doing?” Leed asked softly.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “She was holding him,” he whispered hoarsely. “Or pushing him away. I couldn’t tell.”

“Then perhaps she’s innocent in this,” Chester offered.

Geoffrey shrugged and looked at Chester. “She shouldn’t have been alone with him.”

“I think you’re forgetting Roberts’s remarkable charm with the ladies, Kane,” Chester went on. “He can be very persuasive.”

“Perhaps he took advantage of Rebecca’s trusting nature,” Leed added.

Geoffrey raked his fingers through his hair. His friends’ words muddled his mind.

He pushed away from the table and stood. “I won’t speak of this any longer.”

Blessedly, his friends let him have his way for the time being.

“I believe you should forgo accompanying us to the gambling dens,” Chester said.

“Why? I’m eager to put this business behind me,” Geoffrey countered.

Leed shook his head. “Someone is using your name. Your money. This may be connected to the carriage accident, as well.”

“The perpetrator has had an easy time of it, until now. If you show your face, you show our hand. Let us go and see what can be learned in your absence.”

Geoffrey was forced to acknowledge the wisdom of their position.

“All right. I daresay I can find enough drink to keep me at the townhouse.”

* * * *

Becca was slow to awaken the next morning. After nearly a week of sleeping alone in the huge four-poster, she still wasn’t used to Geoffrey’s absence. All the previous night, she’d tossed and turned. But with the sunlight peeking in though the window, she saw no way out of getting up and facing yet another day without her husband. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She suddenly felt weak, her stomach queasy. Gripping the thick bedpost, she waited for the feeling to pass.

After a minute or two, she felt better. She crossed to the washstand and splashed some water on her face. Surely, the slight attack was due to the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping well. In addition, she’d merely picked at her food for the last few mealtimes.

She sat at the vanity, staring at herself in the mirror. Frowning at the pale face staring back at her, she stood and went into her dressing room to don her chemise and petticoat. When she emerged, Mary was there to assist her with her stays.

“Good morning, Mary,” Becca greeted the girl with a small smile.

“Good morning, my lady,” Mary answered. “What dress would you like to wear this morning?”

“Just pick any one, I suppose.”

Mary simply nodded and went to do her bidding. She brought Becca a walking dress of creamy ivory, the smallest green leaves twining over the fabric. After helping her dress, Mary fixed Becca’s hair in a simple style and left her.

Finally ready to face the day, Becca went downstairs to the breakfast room. She was relieved to find that John and Patricia had already eaten. She greeted Lady Margaret and walked over to the sideboard. What had first smelled delicious to her when she walked into the room suddenly assailed her senses. Her stomach churned at the heady combination of eggs, ham, and kidneys. Choosing a single bread roll, she took her seat.

Lady Margaret arched a brow at her. “Is that all you’re eating this morning, Rebecca?”

“Yes, Lady Margaret. I’m afraid my stomach is a bit sensitive this morning.”

“I hope you’re not coming down with anything.”

“I don’t believe so,” Becca said, shaking her head.

The ladies discussed the correspondence that awaited them. It seemed that nearly all of the guests had quickly penned their letters of thanks. Now, it was left to Becca and Lady Margaret to respond to their missives.

When they finished their breakfast, they went into the library. Lady Margaret settled herself behind the writing desk, motioning to Becca to take the chair facing her. Becca froze in the doorway. She hadn’t been in the room since that awful night when Geoffrey had discovered her with Lord Roberts. It wasn’t the memory of the viscount’s actions that plagued her, but rather Geoffrey’s quick assumption of her guilt. With a sigh of resignation, she entered the room and sat down in front of the desk.

“I had the letters brought in here, Rebecca,” Lady Margaret said. “I find this room so pleasant in the mornings.”

“Indeed,” Becca said softly.

As she turned her attention to the rather sizable pile of letters on the desk, something suddenly occurred to her. She thumbed through the letters, looking for Geoffrey’s familiar handwriting. Becca sighed dejectedly, placing the letters back on the desktop.

“I’m sure that Geoffrey is simply too busy to write yet,” Lady Margaret offered kindly.

“Am I that transparent?”

The expression of concern on Lady Margaret’s face did little to set aside Becca’s misery. She’d heard nothing from Geoffrey since the morning of his departure, and couldn’t help feeling hurt.

They hardly spoke as they performed their task. After they shared the nooning meal, with Becca once again picking at her food, Lady Margaret sent her upstairs to rest. Truly exhausted, Becca acquiesced. When tea time arrived, she prepared herself. Mary had chosen a lovely tea gown for her in a soft shade of blue. She nodded her thanks to Mary as the girl left her. Becca sat for a while, once again staring at her reflection. Suddenly, she straightened her shoulders. No more hiding. She was a grown woman, not a child. A countess, not an innkeeper’s daughter.

Downstairs in the parlor, Patricia sat, regaling her mother-in-law with more gossip about the guests that had so recently departed Kanewood.

“And did you see that silly Diane?” she went on. “Mooning over Lord Roberts like a pup.”

Lady Margaret bristled. “She did no such thing, Patricia. She simply found him charming, as I’m sure the other girls did.”

“Hmm, yes.” Patricia smiled at Becca. “Wouldn’t you say so, Rebecca?”

“What is that, Patricia?” Becca asked.

“Oh, just that Viscount Roberts is very charming.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “I …. Yes, I suppose he is.”

“You suppose?” Patricia laughed. “I daresay you found him a bit more than charming.”

“Patricia!” Lady Margaret admonished.

Patricia hid her smile, but Becca didn’t miss the triumph shining in her eyes.

Lady Margaret turned from her to Becca. “Did you have a nice rest, dear?”

“Yes, thank you,” Becca answered softly.

John came into the room just then. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said smoothly.

Becca looked up then. He gave his wife a peck on the cheek, poured himself a cup of tea, and sat beside Patricia. The speculation in his eyes as he gazed at Becca sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

“How are you faring, Rebecca?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“You must be missing my brother terribly.” He sipped at his tea. “Exactly what business has him in town?”

“I’m not sure I—”

“It must be quite important, I imagine, to keep him away from his lovely wife.”

She looked away from him, shame and disgust warring within her. As she sat there, her attention on her tea cup, Patricia recounted some other stories of the departed guests. John added that the meals the kitchen had prepared were simply extraordinary. He went on, extolling one particular way the staff had prepared the pheasant they dined on one evening.

Suddenly, the room grew too hot for Becca. She stood, her hand over her mouth as her stomach churned. With a mumbled apology, she ran from the room.

* * * *

In their chamber later that evening, as they readied themselves for dinner, Patricia paced back and forth. John watched her closely, a curious look on his face.

“What is it, my dove?” he asked in a soothing voice. “What has you so upset?”

She turned on him, her eyes flashing. “You know damn well what has me upset!”

John blinked, thinking back to his actions of the past few weeks. She couldn’t possibly know about his actions in London. He’d thoroughly covered his tracks. True, she knew about the notes. It had been her idea to forge them in the first place, remarkably devious bitch that she was. However, she couldn’t know about his other indiscretions. The so-called ladies he’d been involved with were not the sort to pass into their social circle, for the most part.

Patricia sighed in exasperation. “John!”

He turned his attention to her again. “Yes?”

“That bitch will ruin everything.”

“How?”

“She’s pregnant, you fool! Surely you guessed it. Her flawless skin turned as pale as linen, for God’s sake. If she gives Kane a son, you will never inherit.”

John scratched his chin thoughtfully. “As long as I have plenty of money to play with, I’m happy to continue on as the second son.”
For now
.

“That is not good enough!”

He longed to tell her that he would be earl soon enough, but he saw the desperation in his wife’s eyes.

“Patricia,” he began softly, “what can we do about it?”

Patricia’s beautiful face turned quite ugly as a sly smile spread across it. “We can get rid of it.”

“You don’t mean …?”

Patricia looked at him sharply. “As much as I hate the little chit, I’d never harm a child.”

“Well, what then?”

She walked over to their bed, taking her clothes off as she spoke. “We’ll have to get rid of her.”

John shed his clothes and took her hands in his. “And just what is it you plan to do, my dove?” he asked, running his lips over her skin.

“I can be very persuasive, John,” she said, pushing him down on the bed. “And I always get what I want.”

He let his wife win this one.

Chapter 24

Becca took dinner upstairs in her and Geoffrey’s chamber, unable to bear the thought of sitting at the table with Patricia and John. As if nearly disgracing herself in their presence wasn’t enough, she had no wish to hear their snide comments regarding Lord Roberts. Apparently, John and Patricia were as quick to believe her unfaithful as Geoffrey had been. What must Lady Margaret think of her?

Once she’d eaten all she could of the meal on her tray, she left the chamber, bound for the little study just down the hall. Crossing to the desk, she saw that her notes still sat atop. In a fit of frustration, she grabbed them up and crumpled them in her hands. Who was she to try and bring people together? She couldn’t even convince her husband that he was the only man for her!

Throwing the papers down, she dissolved into tears. 

* * * *

At the townhouse, Geoffrey sat in his study, pondering all Chester and Leed had discovered down at the waterfront.

Apparently, several drunken men had asked after him, speaking of him like an old friend. Whoever was impersonating him was doing a fine job of it. One of the serving girls apparently thought she knew him very well, and spoke in no vague terms what she had shared with “the earl” the last time he was in town.

Now, as Geoffrey thought about it, it made perfect sense. It had taken months for the notes to pass through so many channels. And it hadn’t been in one lump sum, either. The imposter must have spent many a night down at the waterfront, moving through that unseemly world. But again, why use his name? Certainly he was wealthy, his holdings only growing in value since his father’s death. But there were many far wealthier than himself.

Once again, Leed and Chester had no notion of the why. They were mainly concerned with the how. He thanked his friends for their dedication and sent them on their way.

With a sigh, he put the matter aside for the night and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He stripped and climbed into bed. Closing his eyes, he thought only of Becca. He could picture her beautiful face, her exquisite body. He could very nearly feel her silky-smooth skin beneath his fingers. He felt himself start to harden in response. With a ragged sigh, he willed himself to sleep.  

Soon after breakfast the next morning, Geoffrey’s butler informed him that he had a visitor.

“Who is it, Miles?”

“Viscount Roberts, my lord.”

Geoffrey felt rage course through him. “Tell him I won’t see him.”

“You will see me,” Roberts said, striding into the room.

Geoffrey stood, bracing his hands on the desk. He fixed a steely gaze on Roberts. “That will be all, Miles,” he said, dismissing the servant.