Love With the Proper Husband (34 page)

“I’m not sure I can right now.” Marcus looked up and considered Townsend thoughtfully. “If this is genuine—”

“It is,” Townsend said quickly.

“It appears fairly straightforward.” Marcus glanced at the paper again, then at Townsend. “But surely you do not intend to take the girls with you tonight?”

Gwen gasped in horror. “Marcus! How can you—”

“It is at least a half day’s ride from here to Townsend Park, probably longer in a carriage,” her husband continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Indeed, there is no great hurry, is there?”

“No,” Townsend said slowly. “I suppose not.”

“Excellent.” Marcus nodded. “Then you shall certainly stay the night.”

“Marcus!” She couldn’t believe her ears.

He ignored her again. “It would be best to break this news to the girls as gently as possible. Perhaps you could see your way clear to stay tomorrow as well.”

“How can you possibly invite him to stay? You should be throwing him out. At once!” Gwen’s control broke. “Don’t you understand? He doesn’t care about them. Not really. Maybe he has some sense of obligation because of their father’s request but it’s obvious he’s only here because of their inheritance.”

“That’s quite enough, Gwen.” Marcus’s tone rang hard and firm, matching the look in his eye, and tore through her like a knife.

She sucked in a shocked breath.

He wasn’t going to do anything?

“It may be easier for the girls if they had a day to get used to the idea of leaving.” Marcus’s manner was matter-of-fact. He turned toward Berkley. “Reggie, why don’t you show Lord Townsend into the library. You know where the brandy is. I’m certain he could probably use a bit of refreshment right now.”

He was going to let Townsend take the girls?

Berkley studied his friend for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Of course.” He cast Gwen a quick smile of encouragement, then headed toward the door.

Maybe she should have married Berkley—Reggie—after all. At least he showed some concern about the situation. Dear, sweet Reggie. She clenched her fists by her sides. Marcus behaved as though this was no more than a minor inconvenience.

“I appreciate your attitude about all this, Lord Pennington,” Townsend said. “It’s damnably decent of you.”

“Think nothing of it.” Marcus shrugged and tossed the letter casually onto a side table as if it were of no importance. “We can continue our discussion in the morning. This is obviously a matter best decided by those of us who can remain rational and assess the situation with an unemotional eye.”

“Rational?” Gwen choked on the word. “Rational?”

Reggie said something under his breath, and she wondered if it might have been a warning to her husband. Marcus certainly needed it. Reggie reached the door, jerked it open, and stepped aside to allow Townsend to precede him.

“I confess, I am somewhat confused by your obvious interest in all of this, Lord Berkley,”

Townsend said.

“I am not merely Lord Berkley,” Reggie said loftily, following the other man out of the parlor. “I am Uncle Reggie.” He closed the door firmly behind him.

At once Gwen turned toward her husband. “Rational? Unemotional?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “Bloody hell, Gwen, we have got to keep our wits about us.”

“My wits are about me!”

“Then we are in a great deal of trouble!” He swiveled and paced the room. “You cannot handle a man like Townsend, who goes about waving papers that may or may not be legal, with sheer emotion. We have got to remain calm and collected.”

“I don’t want to be calm! I want to do something. I want you to do something. Beginning with removing him from this house! Immediately.” She aimed an angry finger at him. “You’re an earl. He’s only a viscount. Can’t you have him thrown in prison or hanged or something?”

“No, I can’t. And even if I could, what would be the charge?”

“Abduction.” She ticked the charges off on her fingers. “Theft. Fraud. Trespass—”

“I invited him to stay.”

“Indeed you did.” She fairly spat the words.

“Gwen.” He drew a calming breath, moved to her, and took her hands. “I know how upset you are—”

“Do you?” She yanked her hands from his.

“Yes, I do. I too am concerned.”

She jerked up her chin defiantly. “Are you?”

His jaw tightened. “Damnation, Gwen, of course I am. I have come to care for those girls as if they were my own.”

“Well, you’re certainly hiding it well.”

“And you’re not hiding it at all!”

For a long moment she glared at him, and he glared right back. She couldn’t remember ever having been angrier with anyone even if a tiny voice in her head noted she was indeed somewhat irrational, and perhaps calmer heads should prevail. She paid it no heed. He drew a deep breath. “Do try to consider the facts for a minute. Townsend’s letter appears genuine, but whether or not it is, it may have no legal bearing on guardianship. We need to determine if indeed Townsend’s demand carries any weight.”

“And if it does?” She swallowed against the ache in her throat.

“I don’t know.” Marcus ran his hand through his hair. “However, I do know any number of influential people who may well be able to exert some sort of influence.” Lines of worry creased his face. At once she realized he was genuinely concerned. How could she have doubted it? Guilt rushed through her, for a moment washing aside her fear.

“I apologize, Marcus.” She shook her head. “I was wrong to think, even for an instant, that you don’t care about the girls. I am sorry.”

“Well, that’s something at any rate,” he muttered.

“What are we going to do?” She hated the helpless note in her voice but she couldn’t hide it.

“I have a plan, of sorts. I don’t know if it will make any difference but…”

“What?”

“I asked Townsend to stay the night and hopefully tomorrow as well to give us a bit of time.”

Again he took her hands and gazed into her eyes. “I’m going to go to London, Gwen, to talk to Whiting about all this. You may not realize it, but he is an excellent solicitor. I have no idea if he is aware of this latest turn of events. Regardless, he will be able to advise us as to our standing in this situation, and hopefully provide us with options for keeping the girls as well.”

“Do you really think so?” Her gaze searched his.

“I hope so.” His voice was firm. “I’ll leave for London at once.”

“But it’s late.”

“I can be there by midnight. I’ll get Whiting out of his bed for this. With luck I can be back by midmorning.” Marcus squeezed her hands. “You must trust me, Gwen. I shall do all in my power to resolve this.”

She didn’t want to say it aloud but the words came of their own accord. “What if you can’t?”

“I don’t know.” He blew a long, frustrated breath. “But I shall leave no stone unturned to keep the girls with us. They have become my children, and I love them almost as much as I love you.”

“I am so scared.” She blinked back a tear. “What if—”

“What if all works out for the best and all this emotion is wasted?” He brushed away an errant tear. “And if the worst happens, we can always follow your example.”

She sniffed. “What do you mean?”

“Well”—he grinned—“we could all impulsively run off to America and become governesses.”

She smiled weakly. “I cannot imagine you as a governess.”

He widened his eyes with mock indignation. “I would be an excellent governess. Why, I have ready that look of outraged amusement of yours.” He pursed his lips.

“Stop it.” She laughed in spite of herself.

“In truth, I would probably make a better governess than you did. You may not have noticed, but I am excellent with children. The girls adore me.”

“As does their aunt.”

“Gwen.” He pulled her into his arms. “I promised that you could trust me and you must trust me now. I will find an answer.” His gazed bored into hers. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” she said with a certainty she didn’t entirely feel.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he’d heard something in her voice he didn’t quite like. “Gwen?”

“I do love you, Marcus.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him with a fierceness born of hope and fear and farewell. She drew back, swallowed the lump in her throat, and smiled up at him.

“And I do trust you.”

He studied her for a long moment. “I shall ask Reggie to stay the night as well. If you need anything—”

“I won’t.” She stepped back. “If you’re going to London tonight, you’d best go now.”

“I don’t like to leave you like this.”

“I’m fine. Perfectly calm and quite under control.” She forced a smile. “Besides, Reggie is here and he has strict standards against the seduction of the wives of his friends.”

“That’s not what worries me,” he murmured.

“What then?” she said lightly.

“I have the oddest feeling…” He shook his head. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He started toward the door.

“Marcus?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“I…” An instant later she was in his arms again, clinging to him as if her very life depended on it. As it did.

He smoothed her hair. “It shall be all right, Gwen. I promise.”

“I know,” she whispered. She pulled away and stared up at him. “Apparently I am not quite as calm as I had thought.”

“I was not fooled for a moment.” The grin on his face belied the question in his eye.

“I’m being extraordinarily silly. It’s not as if I will never see you again.” The words caught at her heart. She stepped back and waved him toward the door. “Go now, before I become a complete fool. It

’s probably nothing more than the fact that we have never spent a night apart since we wed.”

“And this shall be the last.” He nodded firmly and stepped to the door, then turned back to her.

“Forever, Gwen. Say it.”

She raised her chin and smiled. “Forever, Marcus.”

A moment later he was gone.

She stared at the door after him, for a minute or an hour or eternity. He was her heart, her soul, her life. Of course she trusted him to do the very best he could. But the chances were better than good that even Marcus could not resolve this problem.

He insisted on doing this all properly, talking to the solicitor about legalities and options and any number of things Gwen had absolutely no confidence in. It was the world’s legal rules that had taken her heritage from her in the first place, and she didn’t doubt it would always take the side of a man over those of children and women.

She wasn’t sure when she decided but at some point in the last few minutes she knew that, once again in her life, she had to take matters into her own hands.

In a scant two hours, Marcus would be halfway to London and there would be little chance of running into him at that point. She would rouse the girls then and they would sneak out of the house. They would travel by horseback instead of by carriage. It was faster and no doubt easier at night if perhaps somewhat dangerous. But the girls had grown rather good in the saddle since coming to the country. This moonlit dash across the countryside would be yet another adventure for them in their brief lives that had seen so many adventures already.

She would bring the girls to Colette and Madame long enough for her to arrange her finances. Her inheritance was safe in a London bank. It would be best to avoid Whiting but she could call on Albert to arrange things for her. Thank God she had insisted on keeping control of her funds. Marcus’s suggestion was excellent: they would indeed take the first ship to America. But this time Gwen had no need of employment. She had more than enough money now. It had taken Whiting five years to find her. Even if Marcus came after her, it might well be years before he found them. By then the girls would be old enough to legally manage their own affairs. They would come into their inheritance and no one would be able to harm them. And they would have grown up happy and wanted and loved.

It was exceedingly odd; the panic that had always driven her in the past was absent tonight, replaced by an unrelenting determination and an absolute resolve. She had no idea if what she was doing was right. As right was judged by the world, it probably wasn’t. Indeed, it might well be a dreadful mistake. But while she could trust Marcus to do his best, in this particular case she was not confident of success. It wasn’t her husband she had no faith in: it was the rest of the world. Right or wrong, she saw no other choice.

And if it was accompanied by an ache so intense it threatened to tear her apart, so be it. A hurt so deep, it was all she could do to stand upright; well, she would have to bear it. She had to accept as well the fact that she would probably never see Marcus again, hear his laughter, lie in his arms. The least she could do was leave him a note. Explain exactly why she had no choice but to run. Again. Besides, she’d promised to love him forever. He should know she meant it. And know as well she would never stop loving him, not until the last breath left her body or the final beat of her heart. He would never forgive her, of course. How could he? She would never forgive herself. This would destroy him. His heart would snap in two much as hers was breaking at this very moment. He had avoided love as steadfastly as she had. And now…

She shook her head and slowly started toward the door. This was such a mess. She had thought it took more courage to face a problem than to run from it. But this was different. This was not for herself. It took all the strength she had within her to follow the course she knew was best. To sacrifice one love for another.

Marcus would carry on, he had friends and family and people who cared about him. The girls had no one who truly cared about them. No one to make certain they would survive. Without her, they would