An Heir of Deception (31 page)

“It appears he is a
good
friend.” Alex barely acknowledged the man.

And Mr. Beaumont, who would have to have been brain dead to sense Alex would have more welcomed the plague than his presence in his house, slowly lowered Nicholas to the floor then approached him, hand extended in greeting. More fool he.

“Lord Avondale.” He gave a brisk nod and let his hand hover another moment before dropping it to his side when it became obvious it would not be accepted.

Both sisters emitted identical sounds of horror. The joy on his son’s face quickly faded. Nicholas knew something wasn’t right and could feel the tension in the room. Alex felt a pinch of guilt at that. His son’s happiness was paramount but this man….

“Well as you can see, Mr. Beaumont, my wife and son are well.” Now he hoped the man would take the hint and go back from whence he came.

“Er, yes, it would appear I have worried for nothing.”

“And when will you be returning to America?” Alex asked baldly.

Charlotte eyes widened.
“Alex!”

No one breathed and no one spoke. Even his talkative son was mute and wide-eyed.

Alex stared hard at Mr. Beaumont. He may have had their company these last five years but they were with him now. Moreover, Alex detested this practice of his son calling the man
uncle
as he was no relation to either Charlotte or himself.

With a delicate clearing of her throat, Charlotte said, “Alex, may I have a private word with you?” But she wasn’t issuing a request, it was a steely demand sugar-coated in a soft, feminine voice.

Well that was fine with him. He had some things he needed to say to her, which didn’t require an audience. They departed the room together and didn’t speak until she’d closed the door of the library.

“Alex, you were unbelievably rude to Lucas,” she said sharply. “He is a dear friend who has, at considerable effort and, dare I say, inconvenience, come to ensure mine and your son’s safety. At the very least, I expect you to be civil to him.”

“If he’s such a dear friend, why have you not mentioned him before? Why was he not mentioned once when we’ve conversed about your life in America? You cannot possibly claim you hadn’t ample opportunity to do so. We’ve been spending at least half the day in each other’s company and
every
single night in your bed.”

Charlotte opened her mouth as if to protest but after a moment snapped her mouth closed.

Her silence only served to fuel his anger, his sense of betrayal. “Was it because he was your lover in America?” Even had they still been estranged, their relationship not as warm as it currently was—or
had been
—no man would countenance his wife’s lover calling on her at his own home. He would not tolerate such staggering degrees of audacity.

“Lucas is my
friend
. He has
never
been nor will ever be my lover.”

And she addressed him as Lucas,
not
Mr. Beaumont. Another emotion he refused to identify seethed green and hot. Did she truly expect him to believe her? Despite the man being an American, Alex knew he was just the type of man ladies swooned over. He had a cocky air about him that some may mistake as charm and women fell like stones over his kind of looks. And as for Charlotte, there wasn’t a chance the man hadn’t found her desirable, hadn’t tried to lure her into his bed. Not a chance in this world. He’d wager his entire fortune on that.

“Then let me phrase it differently. Is he interested in you or has he ever been?”

Her mouth opened and closed several times but no sound emerged. After more time elapsed with her stumbling about trying to find just the right thing to say, she said, “It is not like that a’tall.”

“Then please do enlighten me,” he invited on a mocking drawl.

“He may have been interested when we first met, but very soon after he realized we were meant to be friends and nothing more.”

“And he came to this realization on his own?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and widening his stance.

She averted her gaze and swallowed. “Perhaps my response may have had something to do with it.”

“Not surprising,” he murmured. He couldn’t deny the feeling of relief that washed over him. He believed her when she said she’d never slept with the man. Not that it should matter to him, what she did and with whom when they were apart. But he wouldn’t deny that it did. It mattered to him greatly no matter how irrational it may sound.

She returned her regard to him. “But that was almost five years ago. Now he sees me as a friend.”

“So that’s all it was, he expressed an interest and you turned him down. Nothing else?” he asked, continuing to probe.

Some emotion flickered in her eyes and she didn’t respond immediately. She was hiding something.

She drew in a breath and confessed, “He did propose marriage once. But—”

“I want him out of my house.” Alex spoke between clenched teeth as he tempered the impulse to bodily remove the man himself.

“But he only did that because he was concerned for my welfare. As far as he could see, I was a widow raising a baby on my own. He only asked to offer me his protection.”

“And if you believe that, you are more naïve than most.” No single gentleman could ever look at her and regard her merely as a friend. Her Mr. Beaumont hadn’t given the appearance of a eunuch or a man who preferred the company of other men.

She frowned and looked properly affronted. “I’m not the least bit naïve.”

“Really?” he asked archly. “So if I am to understand correctly, your
dear friend
Mr. Beaumont has expended considerable effort and inconvenience in tracking you from America to England to settle his mind that you arrived safely. This would be the same Mr. Beaumont who once expressed an interest in you, which you ever so gently declined. He then subsequently asked for your hand in marriage but only as a friendly offer of protection?” He paused to allow the absurdity of his words to penetrate. “And this is the same man you expect me to welcome into my home?”

The way he’d just enumerated the salient facts of her relationship with Lucas did make it appear somewhat suspect—at least on Lucas’s part. But one had to know and understand Lucas to know as implausible as Alex made it sound, everything she’d told him was the truth. There hadn’t been anything remotely romantic about Lucas’s no-nonsense proposal. He’d been a friend with the belief he was coming to her aid.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have been quite so honest with Alex. But if she wanted to earn his trust, she needed to tell him everything. Look how he’d reacted because she failed to divulge it earlier. God forbid should it have come out in the future.

“Alex, do be reasonable. Lucas is a friend and Nicholas is quite attached to him.”

His body went stiff, his gaze narrowed and his gray eyes turned the color of night.

“If that man is not out of my house in the next ten minutes, I will be happy to perform the task myself, and believe me, it won’t be pleasant.”

Charlotte wanted to protest but thought better of it. Things between them had only recently thawed, although they had a way to go to reach the ideal temperature conducive to a truly happy and loving marriage.

But as much as she wanted things to work out, she
did
have her limits.

“I shall do as you wish. But understand this, Lucas is my friend and I shan’t allow you to dictate with whom I can and cannot associate.” With that, she turned sharply and marched briskly from the room, making sure to close the door behind her while exercising a bit more force than necessary.

Chapter Seventeen

Charlotte returned to the morning room where her sister and Lucas were preparing to leave. She didn’t try to stop them but apologized for Alex’s behavior. Lucas dismissed her apology with his typical insouciant smile but did say they would speak later. Nicholas, of course, didn’t want him to go but Lucas promised him he’d see him again soon.

That night, Alex didn’t come to her bed, which she’d half expected. However, it did anger her. Not that he denied her the pleasures of his body—although she would admit that had something to do with her anger—but that his actions effectively halted their growing intimacy. As much as she missed his lovemaking, she sorely missed the aftermath when they shared their thoughts, spoke of how they’d passed their respective days and laughed over tales of their son

But a part of her believed he’d not have reacted so violently to Lucas’s presence if he hadn’t cared about her more than he was willing to admit even to himself. They’d been apart five years and surely he couldn’t rightly begrudge her a lover had she actually chosen to take one. It was not the sort of dog-in-the-manger behavior she’d have expected from a man who, if not for their son, would have severed her from his life completely.

She could only hope it wouldn’t be too long before they put this incident behind them and continued forward in their life together—as man and wife in the truest sense of the term.

The day following, Miss Foster arrived at the house for the appointment when Charlotte would select a dress to wear to the ball—which was only three weeks away—on a day when Nicholas was at home and feeling fractious.

The modiste and her assistant, Sally, were loaded down with swaths of fabrics and a book of fashion plates and some sketches Miss Foster had designed herself. Charlotte took them to the parlor, a quaint feminine room across from the library.

Before they could begin the task of selecting a dress, Nicholas dashed into the room breathless, his cheeks flushed, his locks tousled and his play clothes disheveled. Jillian followed seconds later, equally breathless and looking rather frazzled.

“Sorry, Miz Charlotte, but he got away from me. You know how he gits whenev’r visitors come a callin’.”

“That’s quite all right, Jillian.” Charlotte caught her son by the hand. “Darling, Mama is busy. Now mind your manners and go with Jillian.”

But her son wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to make himself known to every female he happened upon. “Who is that?” he said instead, directing his attention to Miss Foster.

Miss Foster sat frozen on the sofa, her gaze riveted on Nicholas. Frankly, she was staring at him as if she’d never seen a child before. Perhaps she didn’t like children. However, her expression didn’t convey any sort of aversion or dislike, more a wonder and yes, maybe even a twinge of sadness. Oh, dear Lord, perhaps she’d lost a child.

“This is your son?” she asked in such a way it gave Charlotte pause. There was something else in the woman’s tone she couldn’t place.

“Yes, he is mine. Nicholas, this is Miss Foster who has come to make Mama a beautiful dress. Now be a good boy and mind Jillian until I’m finished here.”

Not unlike him, Nicholas did not budge from his place pressed against her side. “Hullo,” he said, looking both at Miss Foster and her diminutive assistant.

“He’s a handsome boy.” Miss Foster hadn’t removed her gaze from him since his unexpected entry.

The woman looked positively spellbound. Yes, her son was a very handsome boy and charmed most people to pieces when they met him. But never had she encountered this sort of reaction from a stranger.

“Thank you,” Charlotte replied politely, really at a loss to say anything else. “Now darling, go with Jillian.” She spoke firmly, and with a gentle hand, urged him toward her maid, who quickly grasped him by the hand and led him from the room.

After they’d left and closed the door, Charlotte turned a curious gaze to Miss Foster, who now appeared a tad uncomfortable, as if she’d let some hitherto secret part of her slip. “I don’t have any children. It is at times like this when I see a boy like yours that I wish I did.”

Oh the poor woman. She was obviously alone in the world. At her age, which Charlotte guessed to be late in the thirties, the woman could very well have grandchildren of her own. It must be difficult to know she’d never have any.