Seducing the Enemy (12 page)

Harrison froze. Finally, he said, “She wouldn’t be angry at me. At us. She’s not like that.”

“Of course she’s not like that. That’s hardly the point.”

Understanding slowly dawned on Harrison. This was about his uncle’s outdated sense of honor and family pride. Michael was one of them. Michael had shamed them. So all of them were shamed. “What Michael did or didn’t do shouldn’t have any bearing on my relationship with Marietta.”

“If you were in a public relationship with her, the world would start investigating the accident again. The truth would come out. Our name would be ruined.” Damon’s voice was cold and clipped now.

“It might come out anyway. The Edwards family can tell their story if they want.”

“I don’t think they will. Either way, it’s irrelevant. My point was simply to dispute your claim that the past has no bearing on the present. Of course it does. Given who you are, given who we are, I would advise against talking to Ms. Edwards before you leave.”

Harrison stared at his uncle. He couldn’t believe his uncle’s stance, and yet it made sense. Profoundly bitter sense.

It wasn’t about reputation, it was about Cyrus Damon’s ability to live with himself after what his nephew had done fifteen years ago.

Andrew was always right about people. When it came down to a choice between one of them and their uncle’s honor, his honor would always win.

Damon genuinely liked Marietta and would have been happy to have her as part of the family. But now she represented something he could never accept. He couldn’t deal with seeing a living reminder of Michael and their family’s failure every day.

Harrison cleared his throat, torn between what he desperately wanted and what his uncle needed. “I don’t think it’s right.”

“The choice is yours, naturally.” The chilly words were a warning, and the message was clear. There would be consequences if Harrison defied him.

Harrison wasn’t particularly afraid of consequences. But he had never let his family down.

Or rather, he’d only let them down once. When he hadn’t picked his cousin up from the airport.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Damon said. “Go to California this afternoon. Think about it. You can talk to Ms. Edwards when you return.”

Since he was twelve years old, Harrison had done whatever his uncle required, bearing the burdens of his family. He was the one who took care of things. He was the fixer. He was responsible.

He was a Damon, over and above anything else.

He’d known Marietta for a couple of weeks. To have her, he would have to watch his entire world—everything he’d worked so hard to hold onto—slip through his fingers.

His vision darkened at the bleak realization, and he closed his hand into a fist. “Okay. I’ll go for now, and think about what to do later. I’ll make arrangements.”

He left his uncle and walked blindly down the hall and up the stairs to his room. Having phoned an assistant to arrange the flight, he started to pack. He was almost done when Andrew burst into the room without knocking.

“He told me what happened and that you’re leaving. What the hell are you thinking?”

Harrison looked over at his brother but didn’t answer.

“You’re not going to even talk to her before you leave?” Andrew appeared dead serious, which was rare enough to be unsettling.

“No,” Harrison’s voice was thick. “I’m not going to talk to her.”

Andrew grabbed his arm. “You can’t be that proud and stupid. We’re not blind, you know. We all know you—”

“You know what?” Harrison arched his eyebrows.

“We know how you feel about her.”

“That doesn’t matter.

Andrew snapped. “It does matter. You love her.”

“That isn’t the issue.”

“Then what the hell is the issue?”

Harrison didn’t answer.

“Damn it.” Andrew slammed down the top to Harrison’s suitcase. “This whole fucked-up family isn’t your responsibility. It’s
his
shit.” He gestured toward the downstairs to indicate their uncle. “It’s Michael’s shit. It’s not yours.”

Harrison quietly opened his suitcase again.

Andrew’s angry intensity dissipated and he drooped. “Damn it,” he muttered. “I warned you it would eventually break you.”

Marietta had told him something similar. “I’m not broken. I’m a Damon. I’m not going to give it up now.”

“So you’re going to give
her
up? For him?”

There was no way Harrison could possibly explain.

“Not just for him.”

…

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, my dear,” Damon told her gently. They were seated on the terrace watching the sun set in shades of orange and violet. “Harrison, me, the rest of the family—we didn’t know, of course. But that’s no excuse for the way we’ve treated you and your family.”

“Of course it’s an excuse.” Marietta was stunned to learn Michael Damon’s condition before the accident. But instead of feeling emotional, all she felt was blank. “If the truth was kept from you, what could you think but that we were out for money?”

Damon shook his head. “You’re a remarkably generous young woman. You have every right to hate us and demand a great deal of compensation for ill treatment.”

“I don’t want compensation. That was never the point. I am glad to know the truth, though. And it will mean a lot to my grandpapa. I can only imagine how hard this is for you. You lost your nephew. You loved him. And to learn this…”

“His choices led him there. His fault.”

Marietta smiled sadly. “That does nothing to lessen the tragedy.”

Damon patted her hand. “It was a tragedy for you too, dear.”

Marietta’s heart twisted as she remembered her sister, Melissa. In some ways, it was harder to think of her now, knowing how much of life she’d been cheated out of.

“I hope your grandfather will be able to forgive us,” Damon said softly.

Marietta smiled, feeling nothing but respect and sympathy for this man who seemed to belong to an age where honor and courtesy were more than empty words. She wondered how much his ideals had cost him over the years. “I think Grandpapa will forgive you. He’s hung onto the lawsuit for reasons of his own. But I think knowing the truth will help.”

After a pause, she dared ask, “H-Harrison didn’t want to tell me himself?”

Damon stiffened and her heart sank. “He’s flying to California shortly. Benjamin, his cousin, was Michael’s brother. He needs to be told in person.”

“Oh.” That’s why she hadn’t seen Harrison all day. “I suppose he was the one who discovered the truth.”

“Yes. It was your reaction to beer, you see, that gave him the clue he needed.”

Marietta gulped. “I’ll catch him before he leaves.”

“He may not have time, dear. He’s on a tight schedule.”

Everything was happening too fast. “Do you think he… Is this going to be a problem for him? I mean…” She found it impossible to ask the right questions.

“You know Harrison,” he said, his expression stiff. “He understands responsibility.”

Marietta stared at a spot just over Damon’s shoulder. She couldn’t understand what a sense of responsibility had to do with anything, but somehow it meant leaving without a word to her.

Damon cleared his throat. “I’m making arrangements to meet with your grandfather, so I can apologize in person and settle this to the best of our ability.”

“Thank you. I think…I think he’ll appreciate that.”

“What will you do now, my dear? Of course, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. But I’m sure you’ll want to get back to your family soon.”

Marietta closed her eyes. Damon thought she should go home. Harrison must be avoiding her and Damon didn’t want her hurt by it.

If only she could think clearly. Everything blurred.

“I’ll probably head home,” she said hoarsely. She reached out her hand to Cyrus Damon, a man she’d once blamed for everything wrong with her life. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“Thank you, my dear. You’re like sunshine. Don’t let it go out.” He squeezed her hand; his gaze seemed kind, but resonated something she couldn’t identify.

When she returned to her room, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the beautiful antique carpet. She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to talk to Harrison and figure out what was happening. She wanted to shake some sense into him.

It was too soon to make assumptions. He might have needed time to adjust. He might have felt guilty and awkward and had needed space before he saw her again. Nothing had been said, but she knew he cared for her. There had been real feeling, real tenderness and hunger in his eyes. Their lovemaking had been far more than sex.

With a shaky sigh, she kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed. Why were things always so complicated?

In a way, she understood. What Damon had hinted at earlier began to make sense.

Harrison’s cousin had caused Melissa’s death.

Harrison would take responsibility. For everything. For his cousin’s actions fifteen years ago. For her sister’s death. For those years she couldn’t walk. For his family’s insistence on Michael’s innocence. His whole world was falling apart, and he would do whatever he could to keep it from happening again.

That was what he did. That was who he was.

The perfect idiot.

Marietta turned onto her side, facing the empty side of the bed. But it wasn’t empty. There was something she hadn’t noticed laid on one of the pillows.

A single pink sweet pea.

She knew everything she needed to know.

Sweet peas meant good-bye.

…

After processing the heartbreaking truth, Marietta grabbed the sweet pea and jumped off the bed.

She wasn’t stuck. She wasn’t helpless. And she wasn’t going to accept something so incredibly wrong.

The flower still in her hand, she ran out of her room and nearly collided with Gordon.

“Is he still here?” she blurted out.

“He’s getting ready to go down to the car. We just carried out his luggage.”

She whirled around, then froze, disoriented in the endless halls of the mansion. She had no idea which way to go.

“The car is waiting around the back,” Gordon murmured. “To reach his room, you should take the back stairs on this wing and then head up the opposite stairs to his wing.”

With a hurried thanks to the butler, Marietta sprinted through the hall.

She was taking the stairs up two at a time to Harrison’s room when she met him on the landing. He carried his leather case in one hand and his phone in the other. He was clean-shaven and handsome in tailored trousers and a blue dress shirt, but he looked tired.

“Tell me what the hell is going on.” Fear and frustration pushed her into a more dramatic confrontation than she’d intended.

He raised his eyebrows. “I had understood my uncle explained the situation to you. I’m flying to California to tell Benjamin about his brother.”

She stared at him, baffled and upset by how cool and controlled he sounded. “I know that. But why were you leaving without talking to me?”

He glanced at his watch, like he was impatient to get away from her.

“I know this whole thing is awful and heartbreaking, but we can get through it. Why can’t you just talk to me?” She reached out to grab his arm and make him really see her. His body was present, but he wasn’t really here.

His face tightened, but his eyes, when they glimpsed the sweet pea then returned to her face, were empty. “I would have thought you’d understand the significance of the flower.”

She had understood. She just couldn’t accept his message.

Marietta tightened her grip on his arm, his bicep rock hard beneath her hand. “This is really hard, but it’s not a good enough reason to walk away from me. We’re not living in a Victorian novel where family issues should keep us apart.”

He pulled his arm out of her grip and said in a colder voice. “You think, because we’re living in another century, family is somehow less important?”

“Of course not! I know it matters that your cousin accidently killed my sister, but there are ways to deal with it. I wouldn’t hold something like that against you. You know I wouldn’t. It doesn’t change my feelings for you.” Her voice wobbled, since saying the words aloud was such a big risk.

He looked away again. This time, when he met her gaze, his expression was even stonier. “I was trying to make this easier for both of us, but…I think you might have misinterpreted where things stand between us.”

“What?”

“Obviously I had a good time with you, and we get along well. But I have certain priorities in my life. And having a fling with a pretty girl for a couple of weeks just isn’t one of them.”

She gasped, almost choking on the inhalation. “You don’t mean that. I can’t believe you mean that. Why are you doing this?”

He arched his eyebrows almost arrogantly. “I told you. I make decisions based on my priorities. And you’ve overestimated your importance to me.”

Tears welling in her eyes blurred his face. “This is wrong, Harry,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “It’s just wrong.” She couldn’t have been so mistaken about him, about them, about their feelings. He was trying to get her to go away, but she couldn’t believe he really meant it.

“It may feel that way to you, but it isn’t wrong for me. You’ll see things more clearly soon and you won’t be so upset. I do need to go, or I’ll miss my flight.”

Then he walked past her and started down the stairs.

Marietta stood, dazed, for a few seconds. Then she realized that if he walked away now, she’d lose him forever.

She ran after him. “No, wait.” She grabbed his arm again and pulled him around to look at her. “Wait, Harry.”

He jerked out of her grip and said in a voice she didn’t recognize, “I said I have to go. What about that don’t you understand? This conversation is over.”

“Harry—”

“Do not call me that again.” He took a step backward. Away from her. His face, his eyes, were stone cold. “My name is Harrison Damon.”

His icy response paralyzed her. She couldn’t argue anymore. She dropped the sweet pea. The delicate flower fluttered as it fell onto the stair at Harrison’s feet.

She should have panicked, should have felt her throat close and the blood drain from her face. This was what she’d always been afraid of—the world rising up to crush her again.