Julianne MacLean (20 page)

“Damien,” she said, “I have just betrayed my fiancé. I have given in to my passions and given myself to a man who is not my husband, under a tree. Doesn’t that bother you? There have been so many issues of distrust between us. I worry that—”

He touched his forehead to hers. “No. You gave yourself to
me
, not
any
man. To the day I die, I will believe that I am your only.”

Oh, how was it possible that he always knew just the right things to say? Sometimes he filled her with such bliss, she could barely believe she wasn’t dreaming…“But I will always worry that one day, you will look for a reason to use this against me.”

“I won’t.”

She realized suddenly that she was asking these questions because she was afraid. She had acted recklessly, which was entirely out of her realm of experience, and what they had just done could not be undone. She was searching desperately for assurance…

“What about Harold? I can’t bear the thought of destroying your relationship with him,” she said. “He’s like a brother to you. You care deeply for him, as he cares deeply for you.”

“I am hoping Harold will care enough to understand, and to want me to be happy, the way I have always wanted him to be happy.”

“Perhaps he will forgive you, but he will likely hate me.”

Damien stroked her cheek. “It wouldn’t matter. What I said before still stands. If I must choose, I will choose you, no matter what the cost. You are my future. I hope you will choose me over all else, too. Please, no more excuses, Adele. No more reasons to stop this from happening.”

She smiled lovingly at him, though she was still in turmoil over all of it. She was not yet sure she should leap so quickly from one man to another. A few days ago, when she had decided to end her engagement to Harold, she had imag
ined herself living on her own, even embarking on a career of some sort. But now, was she being too quick to throw that aside? To rush into a marriage with a man whose integrity she had always doubted?

She knew she adored him; that wasn’t the problem. She only wished to do what was wise. Unfortunately, at the moment, she wasn’t sure what the wisest course was. She was afraid she was being carried away by the intensity of her passions.

Just then, a twig snapped and there was a rustling in the woods. They both went silent and turned toward the sound.

“What was that?” Adele whispered, reaching for her drawers.

“I don’t know. Get dressed,” he whispered, rising to his feet.

He reached for his pants, pulled them on, then put on his shirt. He was still buttoning it when he pushed through the curtain of willow leaves and disappeared.

A
dele could see Damien vaguely through the branches, as he moved about the woods in silence, like a panther searching for prey.

She frantically pulled on her chemise and drawers, picked up her corset, and stood, hugging it to her chest. The willow leaves separated again, and Damien reappeared.

“Well?” she asked.

“I didn’t see anyone. It could have been an animal.”

“Your horse, maybe?”

“Perhaps.” He gazed over his shoulder. “Though it seemed to come from the other direction.”

He bent to pick up his waistcoat and pulled it
on. “We should head back to the house.”

They helped each other dress, then left the shelter of the willow tree and walked along the path, hand in hand. When they reached the teahouse, Adele said, “I should go and find Harold now.”

He nodded. “I’ll wait here for a while, so we don’t arrive at the same time. We don’t want to arouse any suspicions before you’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

She rose up on her toes and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “I’ll come and find you when it’s done. We still have a lot to talk about, Damien. I fear this may be happening too fast.”

“I have never been more sure of anything, Adele. I want to spend my life with you.”

She hesitated, then she nodded and started walking.

Damien called out to her. “Adele!”

She stopped and turned. He was standing beside a rose bush. His hair was a wild mess, his clothes looked ragged and worn. She looked down at his feet. There was mud on his boots.

He took a step forward. “I don’t recall if I said it to you or not…”

“Said what?” she asked.

He paused, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and velvety. “That I love you.”

A leaf drifted down through the air, and landed on Adele’s head. She felt only a gentle breeze through her hair, and a simple, joyful contentment inside herself. “I love you, too.”

Then, feeling both buoyant and terrified, yet full of cautious hope, she made off for the house.

Adele went straight to the conservatory—or rather the laboratory—to search for Harold. She did not find him there.

Next, she went to Catherine’s room, and was pleased to discover she was sitting up with Eustacia, drinking soup. Adele stayed for a short time to talk, but since it was Harold she wanted to see, she said she was tired, and went to knock on his bedchamber door.

No one answered at first, then he called from inside. “Enter!”

She pushed the door open. He was sitting on his bed—had he been staring at the wall?—and turned to see who it was. When he saw that it was Adele, he rose quickly and straightened his neck cloth, as if flustered. “Good gracious, what are you doing here?”

She was slightly confused by the question. “Did no one tell you that my mother and I arrived this morning? To see Catherine?”

“Well, yes,” he said awkwardly. “Mother told me, of course. I meant, what are you doing knocking on my bedchamber door? It’s hardly proper, Adele.”

She forced a smile, remembering how uncomfortable Harold could be about anything the slightest degree outside the rules. He was probably embarrassed that she had now seen his bed.

“I apologize,” she said, “but I need to speak
with you privately. Will you meet me in the library?”

“Yes, of course.” He pasted on his customary, cheerful smile. “I’ll be there momentarily.”

She hesitated a moment, because she had thought he might simply accompany her, but it seemed she would have to go and wait for him.

Before she turned to walk out, however, she stole a quick glance at the furnishings, realizing it was probably the only time she would ever see this room.

After Adele closed the door to Harold’s bedchamber, he let out a breath of relief and sat back down on his bed.

Violet got up off the floor and smoothed out her skirt. “Good gracious, I’m getting tired of this.”

“I beg your pardon?” Harold said.

“Oh, nothing,” she said irritably. “It’s just that this is not the first time I’ve had to duck down in a room when that woman enters it.”

He simply accepted what she said. He did not question it.

“Will you be all right?” Violet asked her brother, gazing down at him with genuine sympathy, for he was truly no match for Damien. Not in a woman’s eyes.

Harold nodded. “Yes. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if he hates me. There was a time when we were close, but now…I don’t think I can ever forgive him for this.”

Violet touched his shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, Harold. He knew how
much you loved her. He should have to grovel for your forgiveness for the rest of his life.”

“I
did
love her, and he
should
have to grovel for my forgiveness. But it wouldn’t do any good.” He gazed up at Violet with a dark gleam in his eye. “Because we are finished, he and I.”

Harold kept Adele waiting for at least ten minutes before he entered the library, looking uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry,” he said, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. “I wasn’t quite ready to come down. I had something to attend to.”

Adele rose abruptly from the chair she had been sitting on, while biting her thumbnail down to the quick. She watched Harold cross the room toward her. He stopped in front of another chair opposite and gestured for her to sit down again. She smoothed her skirt in the back and seated herself.

They sat and looked at each other for an awkward few seconds. There had been many awkward seconds between them, but she would try to explain her change-of-heart as kindly and gently as possible, no matter how difficult it was.

She leaned forward, laced her fingers together on her lap, and said, “Harold, I—”

He held up a hand. “No, wait, Adele. I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He wet his lips, and a few blotches of red stained his cheeks. Adele sat back slightly.

“I saw you today,” he said.

Adele went instantly numb. She sat in stunned silence, staring at him, then a wave of horror crashed over her. She covered her mouth with a hand. “
Harold…
”

“I saw you under the tree. I know what happened.”

Her voice shook when she spoke. “What…what were you doing there?”

“Mother told me you had gone looking for me. I went to find you.”

She shifted agonizingly in the chair. “Harold, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you. That’s why I went down there in the first place.”

“But Damien got there before I did.”

She paused. “Yes.”

He stood and paced to the window. “Adele, you cannot know how shocked and devastated I was to hear—” He stopped himself.

Adele was mortified. He had listened to the things they’d said, the sounds they’d made…

“Damien…” Harold said with grim loathing. “My own cousin. We were the best of friends, ever since we were boys. He was like a brother to me.”

“He still is,” Adele said, hoping to prevent a complete dissolution of their friendship. She could not bear to think it would be severed because of her.

“No,” he replied.

Adele stood and went to him. “He tried to fight it, Harold. He tried very hard, and so did I. It just happened, that’s all. Neither of us ever wanted to hurt you.”

She touched his shoulder, but he shook her
hand away. “You had already decided you didn’t want to marry me?” he asked. “That’s why you went looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“Because you wanted to marry Damien instead?”

She hesitated before she answered. “No. I was just going to go home to America on my own. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

He glared down at her. It was the first time she’d ever seen anger and pain in his eyes. He was always so cheerful and happy. “Did he propose to you?”

She breathed deeply. “Yes.”

He bowed his head and shook it. “
Damien
,” he said, through a jaw that was clenched tight with fury. “He had no right!”

“Harold…”

He turned from the window and paced angrily around the room. “And you…How could you let him seduce you like that? What were you thinking?”

“I can’t really explain it.”

“No, I would think not. But you must realize how foolish you were. He has forced himself upon you, Adele.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. He never forced me.”

“I mean he forced the situation to go as he wanted it. He wants your money, and he did what he does best in order to get it.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t believe that? You think he’s in love with you?” Harold continued to pace, look
ing down at the floor. “I suppose I should not be surprised. He knows what women like to hear.”

Adele bristled at that.

“Do you have any idea what’s been going on in his life lately?” Harold asked. “Do you know about the creditors? About Frances Fairbanks?”

“Everyone knows about her.”

“But they don’t know she’s pregnant.”

An instantaneous jolt caused all thoughts and responses to wedge in Adele’s brain. She stared at Harold, not quite able to accept what he was saying.

“She wants Damien to marry her, of course, but she has no money, so he is not inclined to propose. He does, however, possess some miniscule fragment of integrity in his own misdirected way, because he is determined to support her and the child. Hence, the urgency for a quick alliance with an heiress.”

Adele swallowed hard, biting back the hurt she felt.
He was going to have a baby with Frances?
He had never said anything. He had led her to believe their relationship was over.

“Do you know this for certain?” Adele asked. “Or is it just drawing room gossip?”

“Damien told me himself, and ridiculously, I was the one who convinced him that he should find himself a fiancée as soon possible. How’s that for a stab in the back? He set his gaze on
you
.”

Adele felt sick. She had to sit down.

“Do you believe me now, that he is not to be trusted? Do you understand why I am so furious with him, for acting in such a devious, un
derhanded manner, and taking advantage of you so deplorably? My own cousin!”

“I don’t know what I believe at the moment,” she said.

He stopped pacing and met her gaze. “I will still marry you, Adele, if you wish it. It is Damien I am most angry with, and I hold myself partly responsible for this. I…I should have taken better care.” He approached and took her chin in his slender hand, and looked down at her with a sympathetic expression. “I am of the opinion that you were taken in, Adele, but only because you are so good, and you do not see the bad in other people.”

Her dander perked up its head. “That’s not true, Harold. Everyone thinks I am perfect, but I am not, and I was not ‘taken in.’”

He dropped his hand to his side. “If what happened between you and Damien results in a child, I will accept that child. He would be my second cousin, after all. I would only hope that it would be a girl.”

Adele squeezed her eyes shut. “Harold, please don’t speak of this sort of thing. I’m sorry, but I simply cannot marry you, and I would feel the same if I had never met Damien. You and I, we don’t love each other.” She made a fist and held it over her heart. “We do not connect with each other. We have nothing in common.”

“You respect me, do you not? Violet told me you said I was the most decent man you knew.”

“That is true.”

“Well, that’s something to build on.”

“It is, but…I don’t want to build on it. I don’t want to marry you, Harold, and nothing will change my mind.”

“Will you marry Damien? Despite what I’ve told you?”

“I already said I don’t know.” She held a hand on her stomach to try and stop the churning.

“If you do,” Harold said callously, “I assure you, you will regret it.”

She moved toward the door, but stopped and turned before she opened it. “I need time to think about all this. I’ll be leaving the house today, just as soon as I can collect my things. I will ask you to say good-bye to Catherine and your mother for me. Please tell them that I’m sorry, that I had come to care for them very much, and I never wanted to hurt any of you. It just can’t happen between us, Harold. Again, I’m very sorry.”

With that, she walked out.

Harold sank into a chair, covered his face with both hands, and ground out a string of expletives.

Three hours later, Damien stormed into the conservatory, where Harold was setting up for an experiment.

Damien stopped on the opposite side of the table and slammed a letter down with a smack. The table jumped, and a carefully arranged collection of glass bottles wobbled—noisily clanking into each other. Harold bent forward and
grabbed for them, hugging them together to prevent them from falling.

Damien leaned forward on his fists. “What in God’s name did you say to her?”