Engaged in Sin (47 page)

A woman of courage would tell him. She was going to lose him anyway when he found a bride. He had a right to know about his child. Their contract stipulated he was to take charge of the baby. Perhaps he would decide to place the infant with a family. Often gentlemen did that with their bastards. Loving parents would raise the baby as their own, and the gentleman would provide funds for the child’s care. She might never see the baby again. It would be for the best, of course, so the child would never bear the stigma of being a courtesan’s child.

“We’re here.” He leaned toward her window.

Bewildered, Anne peered out too. The carriage had stopped in front of a house so enormous it appeared to encompass half the block. Window upon window reflected sunlight. Sweeping steps led to large doors. A
gleaming wrought iron railing surrounded it all. Anne blinked. She remembered this house from a long time ago—she had walked past it with her mother when she was young, when her parents were alive. It had been one of the times her family had visited Town and stayed in their London home, the one Sebastian had inherited.

She whirled on Devon. “Why have you brought me here? This is my great-grandmother’s home. I cannot go there! She disowned my grandfather and never acknowledged my mother!”

He leaned over and gave her the sort of slow, tingling kiss designed to whisk away a woman’s wits. Over the last few days, she’d seen a whole new side of him. With his guilt eased, Devon’s nightmares were coming less and less often. He no longer acted out battles in his sleep. And he was surprisingly playful—he enjoyed teasing her both in bed and out. Delicately, he held her chin, but his touch was firm enough that she couldn’t escape his violet eyes. “I came here yesterday and coaxed your great-grandmother to speak to me,” he said. “She wanted desperately to know where you are.”

Anne didn’t quite know why, but she wanted to demand they drive away. She had the unbearable urge to bang her fists against him. Why had he done this? She didn’t want this. She asked, as though she was only curious and her stomach was not churning into knots, “Why would she want to find me? She disowned the family over my grandfather’s marriage.”

The carriage door opened, but Devon instructed his footman that they needed a minute before leaving. Anne had no intention of going into the house. What would be the point? “We couldn’t go to her when Sebastian attacked me. My mother said we couldn’t. She said my great-grandmother would let us starve in the street rather than help us.”

She clasped her hands tightly, trying to control her anger.
And her … fear. She did not want to see this woman. She did not want to be rejected. Devon caught her wrists and she struggled to break free. He had forced this on her—he was
not
going to quell her. She didn’t care that she’d signed a contract promising to please him. “Did you tell her everything? Did you tell her what I’ve become?”

He lifted a brow, utterly, irritatingly calm. “Why did you not tell me you are a great-granddaughter to Lady Julia de Mournay? She is the last of one of the oldest and most important families in England, and one of the wealthiest women in the country.”

“And for that reason she wanted nothing to do with my mother or me.”

“That’s not true, love.”

“My mother explained why she could not go to her family when we had to leave our home. She knew they would not help. My great-grandmother had disowned her son—my mother’s father—over his marriage. He had fallen in love with my grandmother while she was an opera dancer on the Drury Lane stage. They ran away to marry. I never met any members of my mother’s family except my grandfather.”

“He was the one who was blind?”

She nodded. She remembered how hurt her mother had been by her family’s rejection. Her mother had spoken of it only once, but Anne would never forget Mama’s deep pain and humiliation. Even when her grandfather lost his sight, Lady Julia would not speak to him. She had showed him no kindness or mercy.

“My mother was desperate when we were forced to leave Longsworth. But she knew all of her family would turn us away. All because this woman had taught them to hate my grandmother, my mother, and consequently me. All because my grandmother was not a lady.”

“Your great-grandmother regrets what she did,” he
said gently. “She had three children—a son and two daughters. She lost all of them, and her daughters died without producing children. By the time you—her only great-grandchild—were born, she was alone. She told me she realized how foolish it was to end up that way simply because one did not approve of a marriage. Two years ago, she went to Longsworth in the hopes of seeing your mother and you and making amends. She found out you were both gone. Your cousin offered to hunt for you.”

“Why? In the warehouse … the way he spoke … it was obvious he hated me. Why would he search for us for the sake of my great-grandmother?”

Devon coaxed one of her hands free. Gazing into her eyes, he kissed it, and it was enough to make her forget the horrible things Sebastian had said. “He wanted her money. As Lady Julia’s only living relative, you are her heir. Norbrook thought this time you would agree to marriage, and he would gain control of the wealth.”

It stunned her. “Then why would he want to kill me?”

“While searching for you, your cousin wormed his way into Lady Julia’s good graces. Norbrook was so kind and gentlemanly to her that she grew to admire him. She feared you had died in the stews and, just a few weeks ago, she told him he would become her heir if you were found to be dead.”

Devon gently cupped her face. “I told Lady Julia how you helped your grandfather with his blindness. Her heart was touched. Now she would like to meet you.”

“No! How could I? She doesn’t know what I am. She would hardly accept me, hardly see me if she knew I was your mistress, knew what I had to do.”

“Anne, I told her about your mother’s illness, how you were desperate for money, and how you were forced into a brothel.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Why did you tell her?”

“I wanted her to know what you had been through. I wanted her to understand what pain her actions caused your mother and you. She knows it all, and she wants to see you.”

How could that be true? “I don’t know. I’m afraid—”

Devon lifted her hand to his lips, the way a knight would bestow a respectful kiss to a lady high above his station. “Angel, you are the most fearless person I’ve ever known.”

She was hardly fearless. He had found her family. He had convinced her cold, aristocratic great-grandmother to see her. Anne was certain Devon was responsible in some way for Lady Julia’s change of heart. But Lady Julia had rejected so many people out of pride—how could she open her heart to the most ruined type of woman of all? Fear froze Anne’s hand on the carriage handle. She didn’t know whether to push the door open or hold it closed. “Why does this matter to you, Devon?”

“My family means so much to me. I didn’t like thinking that you had no one.”

I have you
. But Devon was reminding her he would not be in her life forever. “I do not need a family. It was always my plan to eventually have an independent life. I’ve recognized that is what I must do. That’s exactly what I intend to do when … our contract ends.”

“Come and meet her first, love, before you decide.”

What would her great-grandmother be like, this mysterious woman she had never seen? Anne could not tamp down the fury in her heart. How could this woman have disapproved of her grandmother and mother? Both women had been the loveliest and kindest Anne had ever known.

A liveried footman had admitted them. He now returned. “Her Ladyship will see you in the drawing room.” He bowed and led the way.

Devon’s hand rested at her low back, and he urged her to follow. Why did he want this so much? Did protectors normally take such an interest in their mistresses?

They reached a room that was entirely white. Astonishingly white. The floor was marble tile, white silk covered the walls, and the moldings that looped and swirled like confectioner’s icing were white plaster. All the furnishings were white and gilt.

Anne glanced at Devon. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the intensely bright room, and she realized … she was looking at him for support. As though they were more than courtesan and protector. She was looking to him as she had seen her mother look to her father and, even more often, her father look to her mother.

Heels tapped on the marble. Between two white screens, blue silk moved. Anne swallowed hard. Then the most elegant lady she had ever seen appeared before her. Lady Julia leaned on a walking stick, but she held herself tall. Silver hair was piled on her head, hair as pale as the room, carefully styled and shimmering. The austere brilliance of the white and silver made her gown all the more startling—it was an exquisite creation of sapphire silk that clung to a slender form. Her great-grandmother had ivy-green eyes, exactly like her own.

Suddenly Lady Julia rushed forward and embraced Anne. “My dear, what you have been through. What a fool I have been. An absolute fool!”

Anne found herself seated at a small round table in a bay window at the end of the drawing room. Her great-grandmother poured tea with a shaky hand. “I am so sorry I disowned your grandfather. So very sorry your
mother believed she could not come to me for help.” Great pain crossed the lined face.

“I had wanted so much for my children,” Lady Julia said sadly. “Then your grandfather ran off and married an opera dancer. I decided that mistake must not happen again, so I pushed my daughters into grand marriages for duty. One married a duke’s son, the other wed a marquess. Both men were scoundrels. My eldest daughter died of a broken heart because of her husband’s infidelities. The other died of illness while her husband spent all his time in gaming hells. Gradually I realized what I had done. The lives I had controlled, I ruined. I saw I would eventually be quite alone. The only relative I had left was your mother. I wanted to make amends for my foolishness, so I tried to find her, but she had died. So I tried to find
you
.”

“My mother believed you would not even speak to us,” Anne said. “When we left Longsworth with no money, she would not come to you. She thought it would be pointless.”

Lady Julia let out a long breath. She hung her head. “Your grandfather brought his child—your mother—to me, when she was about twelve years of age. I was still angry with him for defying my wishes. I sent him and your mother from my house and told them never to return.” Her Ladyship looked up, tears glittering in her dark-green eyes. “His Grace told me about everything that had happened to you. What has befallen you was
my
fault. I should never have turned my back on your grandfather and his wife. I would have taken you and your mother in, yet your mother believed I would not because of what I said in anger when she was a child. She thought me so heartless that I would turn her and you away. And I had been heartless.”

Anne knew she could agree, she could hurt this woman in revenge, but perhaps she must put pride and anger
behind her too. “You have learned. That’s the most important thing.”

“March told me everything about Sebastian. What must you think of me? How could I not have seen what a despicable madman he truly was?” Her great-grandmother put a hand over hers. At first Anne tensed, then she relaxed, determined to move toward the future, away from the sorrow of the past.

“I have finally found you,” Lady Julia said softly. “Or, rather, March has brought you to me. I cannot ask you to forgive me, Anne. But please,
please
, give me another chance. I wish to make it known that you are my great-granddaughter. I have eschewed the
ton
for years now, but I will have to return. There is much work for us to do!”

“Work?” She stared blankly as her great-grandmother smiled at Devon, who returned it with a grin. Both of them seemed to know something she did not. “What sort of work?”

“Your reintroduction into Society, of course.”

Anne pulled her hand back. “Impossible. You know what I had to do, what I had to become, because of poverty.”

“Yes.” Lady Julia winced. “I am determined to change your life, Anne.”

“No.”

Devon leaned to her. “It can be done.”

“It can’t. I was a whore. I can’t put that behind me.” She remembered the men in Hyde Park. Their bold looks and leering smiles. “It’s too late. I’m not a lady anymore. I never can be again.”

“You still are,” Devon said fiercely. “That’s never changed, Anne.”

“It has. I want to go forward, not back. I want to be
independent
. I know that is all I can have, and I am happy with it.” She was trembling as though she would
fly apart. Devon had called her fearless, but she didn’t have the courage to believe in the impossible. She leapt up, knocking over her dainty chair. Spinning on her heel, she ran blindly.

He caught her at the foyer. In front of Lady Julia’s servants, Devon grasped her around the waist and scooped her into his arms. “This time,” he growled, “I’m not letting you go.”

The marble tiles and domed ceiling whirled as he turned her fast enough to leave her dizzy, then carried her through a large doorway. Anne heard gasps of shock and snickers—apparently, the impassive servants were not immune to such displays of male possessiveness.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Put me on my feet. This is my decision to make.”

To her surprise, he lowered her gently, and as her feet touched the ground he said, “I don’t believe you are ruined forever. With powerful allies, you can return to Society. Your great-grandmother is ready to help you. My mother is adored in the
ton
. Both those women wield a great deal of influence. If they accept you, no one of the
ton
would dare dismiss you.”

“Your mother? How could you ask your mother to do such a thing?”

“I believe Caro would help too. And I am sure I can enlist the help of my other married sister, Charlotte. Her husband is the Duke of Crewe, one of the Prince Regent’s good friends.”

How did he do this to her? How did he make her yearn to hope? But she shook her head. She wrapped her arms around her chest, as though shielding her heart from the determination in his eyes. “It’s impossible. How could I go out in Society? Young ladies are warned to never associate with fallen women. It is as though I
have a disease—I’m to be avoided at all costs, in case ruination is contagious.”