Every Scandalous Secret (26 page)

Louisa was the one who’d heard about using the points of the compass to help Simon eat and drink in public. Before that, his brother had closeted himself away at every meal, a very social man missing the most social part of the day.

“Grandmama went to London,” Simon said, “happy to be wherever her daughter-in-law isn’t.”

“I’m glad to hear of her continuing good health.” Leo stared into the liquid, swirling it absently. He was trying to find a way to broach awkward questions.

“Spit it out, Leo. Tell me about this marriage, and not the sanitized version you gave our mother.”

Leo grinned. “Surely you don’t want to hear about my newest scandal.”

“I suspected as much,” Simon said with a grimace. “What did you do, compromise the girl?”

“Well . . .”

“You didn’t.”

“It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, we’d become a part of wager with a group of people in London. I followed her to Bramfield’s house party, and we spent a pleasant few days annoying each other. But it went too far, and we were discovered.”

“Discovered doing what?” Simon demanded.

“Just kissing. But apparently we’d been a bit obvious during the party, for Bramfield urged our immediate marriage.”

“Leo.” Simon gulped his brandy and then ran a hand through his hair. “Damn.”

Leo leaned across the table. “You probably think I should have learned my lesson after Louisa, but there was something about Susanna that made me a little . . . crazy. I didn’t have to be forced to marry her—I wanted to.
She
had to be forced to marry
me.
”

“I wonder why,” his brother said dryly.

“I kidnapped her, before she could go live in disgrace in the country, and took her off to Gretna Green. It was not an auspicious beginning.”

“But she sounds happy now.”

“I think she is—I hope she is,” Leo added. He reminded himself that he’d felt relief when Simon and Louisa had arrived, seeing that they were still so happy together. It was as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable arguments. But they only seemed even more in love. “The thing is . . . how do you know how to be a good husband? We didn’t exactly see a fine example of the ideal marriage.”

“No one has an ideal marriage. There are always moments of compromise, and someone is disappointed. Sharing the disappointments is what matters.”

“Such words of wisdom from my elder brother.”

“I never thought to hear you ask for them,” Simon admitted.

Leo grunted a response. It felt foolish to admit how very unsure marriage could make a man, even one as arrogant and confident as himself. “Simon, about Mother and Father . . . did they always argue? From your earliest memories?”

“Yes, but I can’t tell you how early that actually was. I was four when you were born, and my memories began in truth then.”

“I was memorable,” Leo muttered halfheartedly. “But you remember nothing much before that?”

Simon shrugged, his focus intent, even though his eyes remained distant. “You know they kept us with our nurse much of the time when we were that young.”

“We weren’t interesting enough then.”

Simon laughed, then his expression sobered. “Now that you’re married, don’t look back at every detail of our parents’ marriage. You can be happy, regardless of the poor example they set.”

“Maybe I avoided marriage because I didn’t think I could do any better,” he mused.

“You know that’s not true. I can’t see your wife, but I can hear her voice. You’ve made her happy, Leo, and that says a lot.”

Though further questions crowded his tongue, he couldn’t bring himself to mention his tutor and make Simon even more furious with their mother. Leo and the late Lord Wade hadn’t been all that close, but to let the truth come out seemed . . . disloyal to his memory. Lord Wade had done the best he could, never once ruined Leo and his mother with the truth in public.

But Simon hadn’t been able to assuage Leo’s curiosity about the root of his parents’ problems.

T
hat night in their bedroom, Leo paced back and forth, and Susanna watched him warily. He’d seemed so happy to see his brother and sister-in-law, but the appearance of his formidable mother had obviously altered his expectations.

“Louisa is wonderful,” Susanna said at last.

He lifted the drapery and looked out into the darkness. “She is.” He glanced back at her, brow lifted with irony. “Does it feel strange to be near another woman I’d pursued? Trust me, there are no more women I nearly compromised but the two of you.”

“Then I hope it isn’t a pattern,” she said, forcing a light tone to her voice.

He turned to face her, arms folded across his chest. “What does that mean?”

She inhaled and let out a sigh. “I admit I’m frightened to return to London, back to our friends who are so different.”

“You mean my friends.”

London was beginning to loom large in her mind as a turning point for their marriage. And much as she could not believe he’d betray her, she couldn’t know if he’d allow his friends to sway him into his old risky life.

“I’ve always been a selfish bastard,” he said. “It had nothing to do with anyone in London. It was up to me to control my impulses, and I didn’t. You could have suffered terrible harm if someone other than Bramfield had found us. What if he hadn’t interfered, and instead word spread throughout the
ton
?”

“But that didn’t happen, Leo,” she said quietly. “You don’t need to dwell on this; I’ve forgiven you, surely you know that.”

But had he forgiven himself? she found herself wondering for the first time.

Changing the subject, she asked, “Did you tell your brother about Mr. Boorde’s deathbed revelation?”

Leo approached the bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand. “I couldn’t do it. The family peace has been shored up so tenuously through the years. How could I tell him that our mother betrayed our—his—father? I’m sharing it with you. That’s enough.”

“Is it?” she responded, coming up on her knees to kiss his cheek. “I thought Simon would be able to offer you some comfort.”

“He does, but . . . he doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Perhaps your mother—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly. “What good would it do?”

She’d planted the idea, and privately thought it would do much good.

Chapter 23

L
eo spent breakfast the following morning staring at his mother. Louisa and Susanna made plans for the day, a picnic luncheon, a walk to go painting, and Simon listened tolerantly.

Lady Wade never openly confronted her daughters-in-law, but she criticized every idea, as if she had to have her approval stamped on everything. He would spend the rest of his life looking at her, wondering, the secret inside him like a heavy weight.

When the women left, and Simon’s secretary was consulting him about business, Leo excused himself. He discovered from his housekeeper that Mr. Boorde had been buried in the graveyard next to the family chapel, as if he had no relatives to claim him. The only people he had were Leo and his mother. Leo had forgotten him, and Lady Wade—well, he didn’t know anything about what his mother had thought or intended.

It was easy enough to find Mr. Boorde’s headstone, and Leo looked at it for a long time after clearing away some of the weeds at the base. He’d have flowers planted there, and it would be as well taken care of as the rest of the family plots.

His mother’s relationship to the dead man would haunt Leo unless he discovered answers. No secrecy or detective work necessary. He would simply confront her, just as Susanna had suggested. He couldn’t let his inclination to cover up problems harm his marriage.

Would his wife always be right? he wondered wryly.

He found his mother writing letters in the library. She looked up when he entered, and her face softened into a satisfied smile.

“Leo, my dear boy.”

He closed the library door, and her smile faded.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Has Susanna complained to you about me?”

“Susanna never complains about anything, but I have eyes. She is a good wife, and I expect you to treat her well.”

She sighed. “You married so quickly that I worry about you.”

“I love her, Mother, and that should be enough for you.”

The words he hadn’t even said to Susanna surprised them both, and his mother’s eyes widened.

“I don’t want to talk about Susanna,” he continued. “I want to talk about Mr. Boorde.”

Her frown was delicate and convincing. “Mr. Boorde,” she began slowly. “I do not believe I—” Her eyes widened. “Your old tutor here at Woodhill Manor?”

He pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her at the writing desk. She was staring at him, then dropped her pen before looking away.

“You’ve never wished to discuss him after what happened,” she said in a low voice. “I thought you’d forgotten that terrible tragedy, but I imagine being here made you remember it all.”

“I
had
forgotten, and it turns out there was a reason I’d blocked it from my mind. Once I saw the cave again, I finally remembered his last words as he lay dying. He said he was my father.”

He expected her to deny it, to be angry and offended. But her shoulders slumped, and her bottom lip trembled before she caught it between her teeth. He’d never thought his mother vulnerable, but she looked so now.

“Your father—Lord Wade—never gave me even a moment of the joy that I found with Mr. Boorde,” she said quietly.

Leo sat back slowly, surprised that he was still capable of being stunned. It sounded as if she’d had an unhappy marriage from the beginning. It hadn’t started with his birth. He took a deep breath for what seemed like the first time since he’d remembered the tragedy. But if he’d expected to feel better, he was disappointed, for sadness at the whole situation lingered.

At last, Lady Wade met his eyes. “I—I had no idea that you knew.”

“Neither did I,” he said dryly, “until just a few days ago. I guess being trapped in a rat-infested cave with a man whose dying words changed your life, might make a seven-year-old want to forget absolutely everything. And apparently, you and Father went along with that. Did Father know?”

“I think he suspected I might have . . . found someone, but he never asked, for that would have opened him up to questions about his own conduct,” she said with the faintest trace of bitterness. “He did not treat you any differently than he did Simon, so I assumed . . . I hoped . . . that he didn’t know. You both resemble me.”

“Then Simon isn’t—”

“No! Oh my, no! Simon is the viscount in all respects. I only let myself have a . . . private friend after his birth. I had done my duty.”

Private friend?
That was a novel title.

“And were you still
friends
at the time of Mr. Boorde’s death?”

“Yes.” The first tear slid down the side of her nose, and she wiped it away with furtive fingers. “I was . . . devastated. I did not take a lover even after Lord Wade’s death, as so many of my friends do.”

He found himself grudgingly admiring her for having some sort of loyalty.

“What will you do now that you know?” Lady Wade asked, her gaze searching his face.

“Nothing. Simon and Georgie don’t know, and I plan to keep it that way. They would only worry about me and be angry with you.”

Her lips trembled again, and she pressed them together, nodding. “Thank you. Did you want me to . . . tell you about him?”

“Someday, perhaps. I have my own memories, too.”

“He loved you. The joy he felt being your tutor gave him great purpose. I was always very sad that you did not care to continue your studies after his death. Now I know the reason.”

He studied her for a moment, deciding to take advantage of this rare, quiet moment. “Why were you and Father so unhappy?”

“Our families insisted on the union, and we did our duty. But we were very unsuited to each other, and sadly, we made no great effort to make things better. It was easier for him to spend time with his cohorts in the evenings, rather than me.” She tilted her chin, and her pale skin flushed, as if she remembered the humiliation.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded and gave him a brief smile, turning the pen aimlessly in her hands.

After leaving her, he wandered the house as his thoughts wandered in his brain. He didn’t want to be like his parents, letting his marriage go out of indifference or laziness. He would do far better by his wife. In his study, he looked out the window and saw Louisa, arm linked with Simon’s, following Susanna through the garden. Susanna turned back to them, wearing an animated smile, and it was as if Leo’s very soul softened in response.

He loved her.

How had he not realized it, after the way he was obsessed with her, and how easily he agreed to marriage once he’d harmed her? Her confidence and prickly pride made him admire her, her determination and passion for her work only increased that admiration. She didn’t care what people thought of her—hence the acceptance of her father’s request for help on his book.

Leo never thought he cared what people thought of him either, but it was far easier to be a man and a scoundrel than it was to be an outcast among all the other young ladies. She was the one with the true courage. He’d merely wiped from his memory anything that made him different.

I
t was time to confront London, and everything it meant. Susanna sat beside Leo and found herself watching her husband more often than not. When he met her gaze, his smile seemed almost forced. The revelations of these past days were not something easy to put aside.

She smiled back with a confidence she was far from feeling. Oh, the wager would be resolved—and she hoped the women would win the painting outright.

But once the wager was finished, and their heated competition over—what would she and Leo have? Would they become like Leo’s parents, who never even tried to find things in common? Or perhaps Leo, who now knew he wasn’t a true Wade, would do his best to fit in with his friends the way he always had.

But she couldn’t put these foolish doubts into words. She had to trust herself, trust in her love for him, and hope he could come to love her.

After a long day, and several changes of horse, they arrived late in the afternoon at Lord Wade’s town house, where they left the Bramfield carriage to be unloaded and returned to its rightful owner. They requested a Wade carriage to visit Susanna’s sister and cousin at Madingley House.

As they traveled through the crowded streets of London, Leo asked, “Are you certain you don’t want to wait until morning?”

“Frightened of hearing that you lost?” she asked sweetly.

He gave her a distracted smile. “You assume Julian and Peter have not found proof. So that must mean
you’re
the model.”

At least he still had some humor after everything that had happened. “Your supposition is not actual evidence.”

“Perhaps you should spell that for me,” he said.

She leaned against him, and whispered, “I would love to.”

At his rumbling laughter, she closed her eyes, grateful she could still make him laugh.

Madingley House was a palace by London standards. Warrior angels lined the roof as if to guard from above. Inside, a marble staircase circled the entrance hall, rising all the way up to a stained-glass dome four stories above. But Susanna noticed it only with a passing glance. This was her home during the Season, as familiar to her as her name.

The butler, Grimes, tall and thin and bald, bowed as he took Leo’s hat. “Miss Susanna, how good to see you.”

“And you, Grimes.” She forced a smile, even as she tried to look beyond him up the stairs. “I believe you’ve met Mr. Wade.”

The butler bowed to Leo.

“Can you tell me who is home at the moment?”

“Your parents just arrived after a brief visit to the country. Miss Rebecca and Lady Elizabeth are also in the drawing room with the rest of their guests. Though the duke and his wife are at the opera, your brother, Captain Leland, and his wife are also in attendance.”

“We cannot wait to make our announcement in private,” Leo said.

They both followed Grimes up the curved staircase to the first floor. Huge paintings covered the walls of the entrance hall, and Susanna touched the edges of her favorites for luck.

“I’d hoped to have our audience be just family,” she said.

“Luck is against us.” He held out his arm as Grimes opened the large double doors. “Ready?”

She took a deep breath and laid her hand on his firm arm. They entered the drawing room, where several dozen guests milled about the clusters of furniture. Carved archways decorated the walls beneath a frescoed ceiling. Beyond were French doors leading out onto the terrace, and as dozens of eyes focused on her, Susanna thought escape was looking appealing just then. Oh heavens, even Lord and Lady Bramfield were in attendance. His lordship glowered at Leo.

“Susanna!” Rebecca cried, and rushed to her, followed by their cousin Elizabeth.

Both of them threw their arms about Susanna, and a part of her world righted itself as she saw that they looked well. Unlike Susanna, Rebecca had their mother’s brown hair and eyes, and with her heart-shaped face, was the true beauty of the Leland family. Elizabeth had the raven hair of her Spanish mother, and in her usual manner, she was laughing at the sisters, even as they broke apart.

“Look at us!” Elizabeth said, as the three of them continued to hold hands. “None the worse for wear.”

But Rebecca was studying Susanna thoughtfully. “Something is different about you, Susanna, and you’d better tell me what it is.” She looked beyond to Leo, and frowned.

Next, their brother Matthew gave her a hug, tall and auburn-haired like her, with the happy grin he’d been sporting ever since his return from India. “You look wonderful, Susanna. Pay Rebecca no attention at all.”

Susanna stared at all the openly curious people, saw her father nod to her with encouragement, noticed her mother producing a handkerchief as if prepared to dab her eyes. As Lady Bramfield worried at her lip and looked hopeful, women with speculative expressions leaned together to talk. Susanna had arrived with Leo Wade, as if they’d been traveling together. And certainly people knew they’d left the Bramfield house party on the same day.

She looked at Rebecca and Elizabeth, squared her shoulders, and said, “I’m married.”

Their mouths dropped open, Matthew frowned over her shoulder at Leo, and the noise level in the room doubled as the guests began to buzz at the announcement.

“Married!” Rebecca cried. “To Mr. Wade?”

Leo took Susanna’s arm. “You cannot be surprised, Miss Leland. You know how wonderful your sister is, and how she’s been hiding herself for far too long. I’m the man lucky enough to deduce the truth first.”

Though Lord Bramfield smiled with obvious relief, Susanna felt the tide of curiosity and malicious speculation as it swept the room, saw the looks of pity, as if she settled for a scoundrel desperate for her money instead of being an old maid. She knew Rebecca’s and Elizabeth’s worry and confusion, saw her brother’s doubts. But all she could do was look up at Leo, those warm green eyes full of mischief and tenderness. Even in the midst of his troubles over his parents and his real identity, he focused on her. She smiled and let him take her hands in both of his.