The Letter (16 page)

“Turn around please. I don’t like talking to the back of your head.”

She whirled around. “Why should I care what you like?”

He held a hand up. “Pax, Diana. I’m only trying to do what’s best for you. You deserve better than a seamstress. I want you to have a modiste make your clothes. Besides, you always loved Town. Wouldn’t you like to dance at a ball or attend a musical? And, the theatre. I remember how much you loved going.”

“That was eleven years ago. I haven’t been back to London since. Didn’t you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” His gaze shifted away from her and then back, regret showing in his eyes. “You have to understand. I didn’t want to know. I spent the first year after you married hiding at Draven Park, waiting for another scandal to overshadow ours. Leo wasn’t welcome, and if my aunt visited, I left. I couldn’t bear to hear your name, much less know anything of your life. When in London, if you or Leo came up in conversation, I walked away.”

That he had been deeply hurt, she had no doubt. She didn’t know whether to be angry at him or sad for him. But she had to make him understand that she couldn’t go. “I’m sorry for what was done to both of us, but at least you still had your mother and friends. Except for Jamie, I had nothing and no one. The ones I considered friends would turn their backs on me if I walked into a ballroom today. And even if I dared, I no longer know how to behave in society.”

“Why didn’t Leo ever bring you to Town?”

She gave a bitter laugh. “My husband said his whore of a wife was an embarrassment to him, that one look at me would disgust even the most jaded of minds. He loathed the sight of me and said London was his refuge away from me. My husband said the only good thing about me was my fortune.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

“Do you want to hear more?”

“I’m sorry. Christ, I’m sorry.”

She burst into tears. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her into his embrace. Angry with herself for crying, she tried to push away, but he tightened his hold. Oddly comforted by his refusal to let go of her, she pressed her face against his chest. He slipped her a handkerchief and held her until she quieted. She dried her eyes and blew her nose.

“I’ll keep this for now and return it clean.”

He chuckled. “My thanks.”

“There is one thing I would ask of you. That is the last time I want to hear you say you’re sorry.” He looked about to protest. “I mean it, Michael.”

His lips thinned, but he nodded. “As you wish.”

“When you return to London, Jamie and I will stay here.”
Please, let him say yes
.

“No.”

No. It was such a short word with a hopelessly final sound. Desperate, she tried again. “There is no reason for us to go.”

“Actually, there is.”

“And that would be?”

His blue-black eyes glittered with determination. “The reason is because I want you and Jamie with me.”

“Why? If we are not there, then you would be free to do as you please.”

“Is that really what you want, Diana, for me to be free to do as I please?”

Her heart hammered in her chest. She understood his meaning, but why should he ask her such a thing? She had no bearing on his private life, but the words to tell him he was free to do as he wished refused to come.

“Do you have a mistress?” She immediately wished she could sew her mouth shut.

“No.”

“But you have since…since after us?” Oh, God, someone please give her a needle and thread.

He hesitated. “Yes.”

That hurt more than she wanted it to. “Why don’t you have one now?” She was going to start carrying a sewing box around with her. Mortified, she tried to turn away, fully intending to scurry back to her room and lock herself in.

He grabbed her arm, none too gently and locked his gaze onto hers, his next words sounding almost angry. “Because of you.”

Chapter Thirteen

Michael stood in the hall waiting for Jamie and Diana. Jamie appeared, jumping down the stairs, his excitement over a new adventure obvious. Behind him, the lad’s mother couldn’t have dragged her feet more if she tried.

She had stubbornly refused to agree to return with him to London, and he had just as stubbornly insisted she come with him. Not playing fair, he recruited Jamie to his side with a promise of a trip to the Tower of London’s Menagerie. It had taken three days for the two of them to finally wear her down. She was far from happy about it, however. After a short stop at Draven Park to pick up his mother to act as Diana’s chaperone, they would leave for Town.

Was he doing the right thing by forcing her return to society? If he managed it right, wouldn’t she thank him in the end? She couldn’t hide forever, and he may as well begin as he meant to go on. He had plans for her and no better time to start than now.

He sketched a bow. “My lady, Baron Brantley, good morning.”

Jamie froze, one foot from the bottom. “Should I bow, too, Michael?”

“Stand next to me, young Jamie, and greet your mother.”

The boy leapt down and copied Michael’s bow. “Mama, good morning.”

Michael grinned, delighted. “Well done, lad,” he whispered before lifting his gaze to Diana. “Give him ten more years, my lady, and no woman will be safe from his charms.” He was damned proud of the boy he hoped was his son.

She stopped three steps above them and looked from him to Jamie, then back to him. He had the sudden notion that if he could divine the thought passing through her at this moment he would have the answer to the question that had been burning in his mind. Was Jamie his? She jerked her gaze away and busied herself with straightening the skirts of her gown, but he had seen something in her eyes. By all the angels in heaven, she knew!

It was the very devil to realize she knew and not demand an answer, but he smothered his urge to question her now. He lifted her hand and placed it on his arm. “Our carriage awaits.”

****

Michael brushed back the hair of the sleeping boy using his lap as a pillow. “Tell me what he was like as a baby.” An hour had passed since the carriage began its journey to Draven Park. He was determined to know the truth before the wheels stopped rolling.

Her eyes warmed at his question. “Oh, he was such a sweet babe.”

The stories of Jamie as a babe held him spellbound as he waited for just the right moment to ask his question. But the conversation took an unexpected detour. “Jamie has your smile.”

He grinned.

“Yes, exactly like that. You smile so easily, did you know? I always liked that about you. I think it was one of the things I missed the most. Leo never smiled, at least, not for me. He brought some friends to the manor once, including some women of questionable character, and he smiled and laughed for them.”

She looked away and he waited, afraid to speak lest she stopped. Bit by bit, an account of her life with Leo was emerging. If he had his preference, he would not hear another word, but instinctively, he understood she needed to speak of it. He hoped by doing so, she could put her demons to rest. She seemed to have developed an intense interest in the passing scenery, and when her words came, they were directed at the window.

“The
friends
he brought home, one of the men took a liking to me. They weren’t gentlemen, you see. No gentleman would have made such a suggestion to the wife of his friend.”

When she didn’t continue, and he was certain he could speak in a normal voice, he asked her the question he didn’t want to know the answer to. “What did he suggest?”

She laughed and the sound of it wasn’t pretty. “He suggested I join him and one of the women in his bed. I refused, of course.”

And was punished for it, he had no doubt. “What did Leo do when you refused?”

Her gaze shifted to his, her look one of challenge. “He gave me a choice. Accommodate his friend or suffer the consequences.”

“What choice did you make?”

“Suppose I told you I chose to be accommodating? What would you say to that?”

He didn’t believe it, but he did believe she was testing him. “Listen. If you are waiting for me to condemn you for doing whatever necessary to survive the hell that was Leo, then you are going to have the wait of a lifetime. I don’t know how he punished you, but any woman in your situation would have likely chosen to be agreeable. And, Diana, the blame for it would have belonged to Leo.”

The challenge in her eyes faded and the breath seemed to leave her. One lone tear rolled down her cheek. “I wish I had known that at the time, because I refused.”

“Will you tell me what his punishments entailed?”

“No.”

****

“
Mon Dieu. Un tel homme méchant, votre cousin
.”

His French born mother only reverted to her native language when upset over something or vexed with him. “Not exactly my words when I first read it, Mother, but they will do. But you speak true when you say he was evil.”

She handed the letter back to him and then brushed her hands over her gown as if wiping them clean. “What are you going to do about this, Michael?”

He took a sip of brandy to delay his answer. If he told his mother, she would meddle. She was going to anyway, but it would be worse if she knew. “I have a plan.”

“And this plan of yours is what?”

“I’m still working out the details, so stop prying.”

“You should marry her.”

“Mother, leave it be. And please, I beg of you, don’t suggest such to Diana. She’s as skittish as a doe, and I can’t say I blame her.”

She gave him a very Gallic shrug, which could mean anything.

“If you can’t resist meddling, then see if you can find out if she knows whether or not I’m Jamie’s father. I’m fairly certain she does.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“I’ve tried, but somehow I just can’t get the question out. I think I want him to be so badly that I’m afraid to hear the answer.”

“It could be yes.”

“It could just as easily be no.” He stood and walked to the fireplace and stared at the flames. “She didn’t want to come here.”

“Why ever not?”

He turned and rested an arm on the mantel. Although nearing sixty, his mother was still an attractive woman. The silver streaks in her black hair only added to her elegance, and her eyes, a lighter blue than his, were sharp and alert. She could have easily remarried after his father died, but she always said that no one could replace her Robert. As a boy, he had been pleased, not wanting to share her, but lately he had begun to wish she had. He feared she might be lonely.

“Diana didn’t want to face you, even more so the butler. She absolutely refused to come until I assured her we had pensioned off Jenkins. She asked me to tell her what happened that night, and now she’s mortified. That is why she’s hiding in her room, claiming a headache. When we arrived and learned you were napping, she couldn’t hide her relief.”

“Oh, Michael, the poor girl.”

“That’s just it,” he said, beginning to pace. “I don’t want her to feel like a poor girl. Listen. None of this was her doing and it isn’t fair to her. You can’t take that attitude with her or you will just encourage her to keep thinking of herself as a wounded little bird, unable to heal. You remember the sparkle she used to have in her eyes, the way she always laughed, how she saw the joy in everything? I want that girl back.”

“You’re still in love with her.”

He stilled. “Of course not.”

She looked at him with all too knowing eyes.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You poor man.”

He laughed. “You have that right.” Restless, he resumed his pacing. “I have a favor to ask of you. I can justify Diana and Jamie staying at my townhouse with the reasoning that he is my cousin. But they can’t be there without a chaperone for Diana. Will you come to London with us?”

“I had already come to the conclusion it would be necessary. I’m looking forward to it actually. I’ve rusticated in the country long enough.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

Going to the side table, he splashed more brandy into his glass, then took the sherry and refilled his mother’s drink. Returning to his chair, he sat and lifted his feet onto the stool, crossing his ankles. He drank deeply, preparing himself for a discussion of his cousin.

“Why did Leo hate me so much?”

“Because you had everything he wanted—wealth, a higher title, a beautiful, rich girl.”

Michael shook his head. “No, it goes further back than that. He was nice to me whenever you or Aunt Francine were nearby, but as soon as we were alone, he would turn mean. Even as a young boy, I tried to avoid being alone with him. There had to be a reason he disliked me so intensely.”

“I’m not really sure, but much of it may have come from Francine. When she married a baron, she was insufferable, always going on about her husband’s fortune and title. It eventually came out the fortune was a myth, but he did have a small estate that could have been profitable if he had put any effort into it.”

“I need to look into that. If I recall correctly, Brantley Hall is entailed?”

She nodded. “It is, but it is my understanding the place is in very bad shape.”

“I’ll have it restored for Jamie. Is there anything else you can think of to cause Leo’s attitude? I still don’t understand why his resentment was directed at me.”

“Possibly, but it was just silliness on Francine’s part.”

“Tell me.”

“I met your father two years after she married Brantley. She was furious I married an earl. Years later, she accused me of stealing him from her. It was absurd because she was already married by the time I met him. But she was like that. Always wanting what others had and blaming everyone for her misfortunes. It wouldn’t surprise me if she told Leo I stole Robert from her, and that he should have inherited the title. She spoiled the boy dreadfully. He was my nephew and I tried to be nice to him, but secretly, I didn’t much like him. I always thought there was something malevolent in his eyes when he looked at you. I told myself I was imaging it, that a boy couldn’t be evil.”

That explained a lot, and for what it was worth, at least he better understood how Leo’s mind worked.