Surrender to the Earl (19 page)
At last he lifted his head, and she managed to say in a breathless voice, “There, we have scandalized our hostess enough.”
“Or made her sigh with the romance of it all.”
He was probably more correct than she was.
“But what if no one knows what we’re doing out here,” he continued, his arms still holding her firm against him, “and we’re discovered? You would have to marry me then.”
“I am a widow, Robert, given far more freedom than any maiden to have an affair. I cannot be forced into marriage by this sort of scandal.”
“Then we may have an affair?”
She groaned. “Not this again. You must let go of this fantasy of us together.”
“No.”
He wasn’t teasing now, she could hear it in his voice. He was determined, and for the first time, she wondered if he could defeat all of her promises to herself.
No, she wouldn’t let that happen. “Take me inside, please. I’m cold.”
R
obert escorted them home, then headed back to Hedgerley to take a room at the inn for the night. Audrey knew he wanted her to ask him to spend the night, and that he would have tried to persuade her, had Blythe not been in the carriage with them. Thank goodness for her sister, because Audrey remembered how easily she’d let Robert seduce her on her very own dining table, where her servants might have found them. She winced at the memory, and had to force away the images of the pleasure she hadn’t known she was capable of.
To her surprise, Blythe followed her into her bedroom.
“Molly,” Blythe said, “I’ll help Audrey undress for the night. And then she can help me.”
Audrey frowned at Molly. “You should be sleeping, not waiting up for us. You’re still recovering.”
“So I dozed upon your bed,” Molly said. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. Thank you, Miss Blythe, I will accept your kind offer, and I’ll tell Charlotte you don’t need her. But before I go, did you both enjoy your dinner?”
“You should have seen her waltz with Lord Knightsbridge!” Blythe gushed, before Audrey had the chance to speak. “They made the most romantic couple there.”
Audrey was surprised to feel her cheeks heat, knowing Molly still thought they were truly engaged. “Blythe—”
Molly gave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, it must have been wonderful.”
“He even led her out on the terrace,” Blythe confided.
“Ooh!”
“You never did tell me what he . . .
said
out there.” Blythe’s voice hinted at laughter and happiness.
Audrey hesitated. Both her sister and Molly wanted to believe that even the most impractical of dreams could come true. And that wasn’t going to happen. “Enough, ladies. We are all very tired. Good night, Molly. And next time, tell me when you’re going to alter the bodice of my gowns.”
Molly didn’t sound apologetic as she said, “You looked stunning, didn’t you?”
“Oh, she did,” Blythe chimed in.
“And Lord Knightsbridge couldn’t take his eyes from you.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Blythe agreed. “And neither could several of the other men.”
Would this blushing never cease? “Good night, Molly.”
Molly departed and Blythe began to unhook the back of Audrey’s gown.
“Men were not looking at me, Blythe, at least not in the way you meant,” Audrey insisted. “Why did you mislead Molly?”
“Of course they were looking at you. And why should they not? You are beautiful, Audrey. People will stare at first because of your blindness, and yes, that happened tonight. When I was young—”
“And you are so very old now,” Audrey teased.
“Shh, let me finish! I am trying to apologize or to explain or . . . I don’t know.”
Audrey heard the sorrow, and turned about, even though her gown was only just starting to part at the top. “Blythe, this isn’t necessary. I know you’re sorry. We all make stupid mistakes in our youth. And I made several of them, so I certainly understand.”
“Just let me say this,” Blythe whispered, then cleared her throat. “I don’t know why I used to behave this way—it seems so ridiculous and childish now—but I used to be so sad and defensive when people stared at you.”
“You
were
a child,” Audrey said with kindness. “I don’t hold that against you.”
“Even Father told me to ignore everyone. And then . . . and then he made certain we’d never have to see how people looked at you. We denied you any friendships, Audrey, a social life.”
“Oh, Blythe, don’t cry,” Audrey said, putting her arms around her sister. “That was Father’s influence. I know that. And perhaps he thought he was trying to protect me.”
“You mean rather than trying to avoid his own feelings of embarrassment?” Blythe said bitterly.
“I know he felt that way, too.”
“I wish that things had been different,” Blythe whispered raggedly, “that I’d been more mature. We lost so much time together.”
Audrey’s eyes stung and her smile wobbled. “But we have all the time in the world now. We’ll be able to visit each other’s homes, and spend lots of time together.”
“That’s good.”
They hugged again, then with tired fingers, fumbled through unhooking each other’s gowns.
“Good night, Audrey,” Blythe said, then added, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Audrey said, and when she heard the door shut, she felt the drip of happy tears she could no longer suppress.
W
hen Audrey came downstairs the next morning, Robert was waiting in the drawing room. He rose as he saw her descend the last stair, and called her name.
Her head angled toward the room and she approached, her expression one of disapproval that he didn’t quite believe. Her cheeks were pink, and he knew his attentions reached her, though she didn’t want them to.
“So you didn’t go home,” she said impassively.
“Did you think I would?”
“No.” She gave a reluctant smile.
“What are we doing today? Your feast is approaching. Have the invitations gone out? I didn’t receive one.”
She shook her head, looking amused and exasperated all at the same time. “Molly isn’t finished with them yet. I am still insisting she resume her duties at a slow pace.”
“But will I be invited?”
She hesitated a long time, but he wasn’t worried.
“You’d come anyway, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“I would.”
“Then you’ll receive an invitation.”
“It would seem awkward to exclude your future husband, the local earl.”
Before she could respond with her own jibe, Robert heard the wail of a child.
Audrey turned her head toward the back of the house, looking not at all surprised.
“What the hell is that?” Robert demanded.
“There is no need to curse,” she admonished, entering the drawing room and closing the door behind her.
She stood facing him, hesitation in her every manner, as if she didn’t know how to tell him—or if she’d even planned to. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“That little boy is Mrs. Sanford’s grandchild, son of her older daughter, Louisa.”
“A widow, or so I heard.”
Audrey seemed to grow a little taller, shoulders back like a foot soldier reporting unwelcome news.
“She is not a widow. I recently discovered that the child is my husband’s bastard.”
Robert’s sudden fury with Martin Blake was only eclipsed by the thought of the pain this must have given her. Gently, he said, “So this is the secret your servants have been protecting all along.”
She nodded. “Martin took advantage of a young woman in his employ, and I will not compound his terrible errors by making this girl or her family suffer. At least he provided for the child, which is how I discovered the truth.”
“And what do you plan to do with this knowledge?”
She blinked at him. “Nothing. Louisa is welcome in this household.”
He frowned. “Are you certain that’s wise?”
As if she didn’t want to hear any words of caution, she opened the door. “I will do what I think best,” she answered. “And now I need to greet Louisa. Please wait here.”
That wasn’t going to happen. He followed several paces behind her, then leaned against the doorjamb as the domestic scene in the kitchen unfolded. Mrs. Sanford worked at her wooden table, a large cauldron bubbling over the fire. A young woman with the same blond hair as the maid, Evelyn, sat on another stool, holding a squirming little boy on her lap. He had Blake’s black hair, and the same impudent expression that the man had worn heading into each battle, as if he knew something the enemy didn’t. Robert was glad Audrey couldn’t see the resemblance.
He watched as Mrs. Sanford and her daughter greeted Audrey’s entrance with resignation, but there was fear in their eyes when they looked at him. He said nothing, for once glad of the reputation a title could provide.
“Louisa, is that you?” Audrey asked.
Louisa shot a frightened look at her mother, then answered, “Aye, ma’am, ’tis me—and Arthur, of course.”
Audrey smiled. “Of course. I could hear his exuberance.”
Robert wondered how Audrey could smile at this reminder of her husband’s disregard of her. He knew it wasn’t the child’s fault, but how saintly could Audrey be?
Her expression grew sober. “Louisa, I know it is too late, but I would like to apologize for my husband’s abominable behavior toward you.”
Louisa burst into tears and hid her face against little Arthur’s head. The boy kept trying to turn around as if he didn’t know what was going on. Robert didn’t blame him.
“It was me own fault, Mrs. Blake,” Louisa said between sobs. “I was so foolish and I felt sorry for him married to an invalid—oh heavens!”
She looked at Audrey in horror and went off on a fresh wail. Mrs. Sanford left her mixing bowls and after lifting the boy onto one hip, slipped an arm around her daughter’s back. Louisa covered her face with both hands.
“Louisa, I do not blame you,” Audrey said.
She had far more generosity than Robert would have had.
“Mr. Blake was not a man to consider others,” she continued, “and he used you for his own purposes, just as he did me. He obviously exaggerated my blindness.”
Louisa nodded, dropping her hands to reveal her tear-ravaged, blotchy face.
“People have always wanted to consider me an invalid, and I have done my best to show otherwise. I won’t forget the debts Mr. Blake owes to Arthur. I will continue to help provide his care, and if you’d like, you are welcome to move back here with your family.”
Robert would have thought that Louisa would be overjoyed.
There was a hesitation in her manner as she said, “You—you would not mind, ma’am?”
“Not at all. I imagine you’ve been lonely.”
New tears slid down the girl’s cheeks as she nodded, but she didn’t smile at the prospect of being reunited with her family.
“Audrey, I’d like to speak with you,” Robert said at last.
Mrs. Sanford and her daughter flinched at the sound of his voice, and the little boy craned his neck around with curiosity. Only Audrey seemed unsurprised as she nodded and followed him back to the drawing room.
He shut the door after her entrance. “Audrey, I understand your compassion for this young girl having been taken advantage of—”
“Taken advantage of by my own husband,” she interrupted.
“True, but that was not your fault, nor do you owe her anything beyond support from Blake’s estate. But offering a home? That is a terrible idea.”
“Why? Her only family is here, and she’s living alone somewhere, ostracized. I’ve been told that most villagers know she is not a widow, so her last attempt at respectability is gone. This is Martin’s fault, Robert.”
“But not yours. And you knew I’d disagree with how you’re handling this—why else keep me in the dark about the child?”
“Perhaps because you have no say in my decisions,” she said pointedly. “We are not engaged.”
“Regardless, this decision is bad for
you,
Audrey. You’ll be living with a constant reminder of your husband’s infidelity.”
“You act as if I need reminders of what he did?” she asked in disbelief. “He took my money and he left me trapped with my father—I’m not likely to forget that.”
“And so you think you can never trust a man again,” he said sadly.
She seemed to hesitate, which gave him hope.
“You have to accept my decisions, Robert. I won’t marry you.”
“I can’t accept that,” he said.
And as he looked at Audrey, unbowed by the terrible pain inflicted upon her, he realized that her pain was his. He didn’t know what that meant, only that he wanted to make the worst of it go away, to see her truly happy. And he was starting to wonder if she was as against marriage to him as she claimed.
“Audrey!”
They both heard Blythe’s excited voice from the entrance hall, and then she came rushing in, a squirming bundle of furry black and white puppy in her arms.
Blythe smiled at him, but went directly to her sister. “I have a gift for you. Hold out your arms.”
Frowning, Audrey did so, and then her eyes went wide as the puppy snuggled against her.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Blythe asked. “He’s finally old enough to leave his mother back in the barn. I think you should have him.”
The puppy started licking Audrey’s face, and soon she was laughing. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m capable of such a responsibility, Blythe.”
“Of course you are. Play with him for a while. There’s even a rope to use as a leash should you need to take him outside. Molly and I can share the responsibility with you. But right now I cannot. Mr. Yardley is waiting to take me for a carriage ride.”
“He is Miss Yardley’s brother,” Audrey said. “You met him at the Flitcroft dinner?”
“I did. He is a kind man, too old and somber for me, but I could not refuse a simple ride. I’ll be back soon!”
Smiling, Blythe tossed the rope to Robert, then caught up her shawl and hurried out the front door.
Audrey petted the puppy in bewilderment. “I . . . I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I won’t be able to see what he’s up to.”
“You can hear him, and once he’s older and trained, he’ll be a good companion.”
“Then I certainly won’t need a husband.” She bit her lip as if to contain a smile.
“I’m not laughing.”
“You know what Blythe is trying to do,” Audrey said tiredly. She stroked the puppy’s little head as it kept trying to lick her chin.
“Give you a gift?”
“She’s trying to distract me from—from everything. She means well.”
“Are you distracted?”
“I’m worried this is just one more responsibility that I am not equipped to handle.”
“You handle everything in your path, Audrey. You’ll handle this.”
The puppy was squirming so much, she had to put him down. He sniffed at her skirts, at Robert’s boots, then started to search the corners.
“What is he doing?” she asked.
“Exploring. And looking for a certain spot. If you take him outside every few hours, he’ll learn to piss out there. He’s used to that already.”
“Robert, your language.”
He stooped to tie the rope around the puppy’s neck. “Then find a better word. And a name. I’ll walk him outside.”
