The Rake's Redemption (15 page)

She forced herself to the wash stand where she poured cool water from the earthen pitcher over her wrists. Then she splashed water on her hot face and throat, hoping to still the sickness waiting to overcome her. It was little help. She flung herself onto the twisted covers and buried her face in the pillow. How easily she had fallen under his spell. He had brought other women to the paradise he had offered her, she realized that, but she had been foolish enough to believe there would be no other after her.

Oh, yes, my lord marquis, your charm is lethal, indeed.

She lay there letting her misery utterly overwhelm her. Her bedchamber door handle rattled slightly but didn’t open.

“Juliana, please let me in!” It was Aunt Sophia. “Please dear, just for a moment. I want to talk to you,” she called softly.

Scrambling off the bed, Juliana nearly tripped in her eagerness to reach the door. Sophia would help her as she always had in the past. Juliana knew she could count on Sophia. Maybe at last, she would discover what this miserable family secret was all about.

She knew by the look of her aunt’s face that her own stumbling and sobbing flight up the staircase had not gone unobserved.

But Sophia offered no false assurances and her face was grave.

She sat on the bed and Juliana ran to her, kneeling at her feet.

“Please tell me what is wrong with Dominic. What did Lady Grenville mean in the coach? And the Duchess?” Juliana grasped her aunt’s hands. “I heard you both talking in the library. Please help me to understand.”

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” Sophia shook her head, her lips tight, the skin on her cheeks drawn tautly over the bones. “Come sit beside me,” she said gently, pulling Juliana up and urging her onto the bed. “I can only tell you it has something to do with Dominic’s mother. Rodney confided in me weeks ago about Dominic and his parents. It is a painful memory for all of them to bear. I think … Rodney was upset with himself for telling me. But I promised the story would go no farther.”

“I assumed his parents were dead. What is it?” Blinking back fresh tears, Juliana leaned closer to her aunt. “I love Dominic. I would never do or say anything to harm him. You know that.”

Sophia stood and paced to the window, staring out for several moments before striding quickly back to where Juliana waited. Nodding, she took a deep breath. “I know that I can place this in your keeping, my dear. I will tell you what I know.”

“No, Sophia, I shall tell her.”

Neither of them had noticed they had left the door slightly ajar and now the Comte de Saville stood there, a stern twist on his thin lips.

“Rod told you only what is known to the family. They do not know the whole truth. I do. For I was there,” he said, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. “Now, at last, it is time to put away the past.”

Juliana looked at him, her breath suspended in her chest. She had said those exact words when she had put Will’s locket away forever.

“I want to speak with Juliana alone, Sophia,” Jules insisted.

Sophia hesitated, narrowing her eyes as she studied Jules’s stern face. “I once told Juliana that if ever I met anyone she should be protected from, I would descend upon them like a dragon.”

Jules lifted one dark eyebrow and his mouth quirked up at the corner in a smile painfully reminiscent of his younger brother.

Sophia nodded. “I will go to my room to fetch a shawl and then I will take a short walk in the rose garden before I return.” Stopping only to drop a kiss upon Juliana’s head, she was gone.

Jules placed his hands on the mantel and stood studying his fingertips a moment before looking at her. “You are in love with my brother.” His straightforward announcement left no room for missishness.

“Yes, I love Dominic,” she replied in a whisper. Although her feelings were numbed, she experienced surprise at the look of relief on Jules’s thin face.

“I saw your flight across the terrace and into the stable yard. And I saw you return. You have been hurt by Dominic. But I know he loves you.”

“No, he does not!” The pain of saying it aloud was too much to bear and she dropped her head into her hands.

“Juliana, I was there when you went thundering out of the yard on Bucephalus. He was like a madman. It was the fear of a man for the woman he loves. I saw love clearly on his face … just as I did in London at Vauxhall. And last night.”

At that she blinked away her tears and looked up. “Yes … I had thought…” Stopping, she bit her lip, taking a deep breath into her chest. She searched Jules’s face for answers to the questions whirling through her mind.

He sat onto the bed, close to her but not touching her. “May I tell you a story?” His voice softened. “Not a pretty one. But perhaps … together … we can make it have a happy ending.”

This was a Jules she had never guessed existed. Jules possessed his brother’s charm. She had seen him weave his spell in London, but she had not witnessed this side of him—gentleness, concern—that was what she saw on his face now. His eyebrow lifted again and she nodded, forcing herself to give him an encouraging small smile.

“It started before Dominic was born. When his father, Charles, met Leticia. My mother.”

The note in his voice was identical to Dominic’s when he had spoken of their mother. So, at least they shared something, these two who always seemed at odds.

“I was a young child when they were married and we came to live at the Towers.” His fingers flexed involuntarily. “I was happy here. And Leticia appeared to be happy. Unfortunately, it was short-lived. Dominic was born within a year of the marriage. And after his birth she moved to the west tower and took me with her. She left Dominic in the nursery with a wet nurse. And she left Charles. Never again did they live as husband and wife. But my mother did not lack for companionship. Her lovers were legion.”

Jules rose slowly, going to the window. She could sense how difficult this was for him, heard pain in every word. As his hesitation lengthened, she went to him and touched his arm. “Would you rather not go on?”

“No, it must be told!” he said so firmly she dropped her hand and stepped back from him. But he stopped her retreat, gripping her shoulders and pulling her directly in front on him. “I have come back to help Dominic understand what happened the night his father and our mother died. I have tried to tell him before, but he would never listen. Are you brave enough to hear it, Juliana?”

Suddenly she was afraid. She didn’t want to know. What she learned would change her life forever.

She had to know.

“Yes, I am brave enough, Comte,” she answered at last.

Breathing deeply, he nodded. “Dominic was eighteen and home for a visit from Cambridge. Charles had been drinking heavily. His habit had worsened over the years. And Leticia had also consumed too much wine. A new habit for her. But, her beauty was fading and this was her way of forgetfulness. After dinner Charles insisted on showing Dominic the dueling pistols he would present to him on his next birthday. I had finished at Oxford and was eager to go on an extended tour of Greece, the only place left to me. Being French I could not go to the Continent with Napoleon on the march. Leticia insisted she wanted to be alone with me. I could sense Dominic’s hurt that, as always, his mother had no time for him. But I had very few nights left with her, so we went to our suite in the west tower.”

Jules stopped and Juliana could see a large vein throbbing in his neck. She started to speak but he shook his head. “Dominic went to his father’s bedchamber and watched him load the pistols. They were Mantons: superb workmanship, excellent balance. Perhaps Charles had already gone mad, for he placed the pistols under his arm, grabbed Dominic’s arm, and pulled him along to the west tower. Charles beat on our apartment door, but Leticia and I were so engrossed in … a discussion that we hardly noticed until he forced the door.”

The hard profile Jules turned to her could have been his brother’s; the pain she had seen before in Dominic’s eyes. So long a time passed that she thought he would not go on, but finally his words fell into the silence as stones onto a still pond.

“Charles thought he saw something … something he misunderstood. It … it robbed him of all reason. He went mad and shot Leticia. And he would have killed me had Dominic not knocked his hand aside. That is how I lost my eye.”

“Your stepfather murdered your mother!” she cried, the horror of it washing over her in waves.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice toneless. “But there is more.”

The burning behind her eyes was nearly unbearable, but she forced herself to look steadily back into his face. Her heart ached for the young Dominic and for Jules, but she had to know. “Please, you must tell me everything.”

Jules nodded slowly, his face set. “So be it. When Dominic finally realized that he could do nothing to save Leticia and had summoned help for me, he ran after his father. Charles had simply walked away from the destruction of all our lives.”

Juliana covered Jules’s fingers with her own trembling hand. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t seem to have heard her, for he stared blindly into space, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “Dearborne tried to break open Charles’s study door but failed. So in desperation, Dominic climbed the creeper onto the second-story balcony and was forcing open the French doors when another shot rang out.”

Gasping, she stepped back from him. “His father killed himself!”

“Yes. By the time Dearborne had broken through the door, I had reached the chamber with the help of two footmen.”

“But how? You were so gravely wounded!”

He brushed aside her concern, his face a stern mask. “I had to go after Dominic. He had not understood what had happened. God knows I was barely conscious, but I had to be there. And I was … Charles died in Dominic’s arms cursing the black widow … our mother. Soiled goods he called her, dirtying everyone and everything around her. And then he cursed me. And Dominic. His dying words were accusions of the foulest…”

“Cursed you! But why?” Juliana demanded. “Why, Jules?”

Now it was Jules who stepped back, turning to face away from her.

“There is something between Dominic and I that must be settled before that particular secret can be placed in your keeping, Juliana.” He turned to confront her again and raised his thin hand to wipe the tears from her cheek.

“Try to understand. We all changed after that night. Dominic most of all. He became bitter, selfish … even cruel at times. He has used women, Juliana … much as our mother used her lovers.” He smiled gently, shaking his head in wonder. “Until now. Until you. I’ve watched him with you. Dominic has fallen in love at last. And he cannot deal with it. You see why you need to know this, so you can understand why he is hurting you.”

“Cannot
or
will not
deal with it?” she asked bitterly, drawing herself up with all the pride she could muster. Dominic had been badly scarred, and she cried inwardly for that sad, lonely young boy, but he was a man now and must carve his own destiny. Hadn’t she discovered that for herself?

“There is nothing stopping him from loving me except the ghosts from his past. I have put aside my own past to love Dominic. He knows that and has rejected my love.”

“You can help me rid Dominic of those ghosts. Help him become whole again. I owe him that. But I can not reach him alone. I need you.”

Blinking back her tears, Juliana shook her head, the ache in her chest making it hard to breath. “He knows I love him. I can do nothing more. I, of all people, know that only he can put the past behind him. I don’t have the key, Jules. Only you and Dominic can bury your ghosts.”

Dominic paced around his room in the east tower. He hated it here. Nothing had been changed in all these years; the furniture was exactly the same as in Jules’s room, although Leticia had decorated Dominic’s rooms in blue and silver and Jules’s in crimson and cream. Everything in this room reminded him of her. He had avoided the Towers because of the memories he could not put behind him. Now he was here and it was worse than he ever anticipated.

Everything had ended here at the Towers. He had been betrayed not only by those who should have loved him, but by himself. He knew that now. Instead of running off to war and earning his gallant reputation—only because he behaved with a recklessness that showed he didn’t give a damn what happened to himself—and instead of indulging in every excess that had sunk him to the depths of depravity, he should have remained here, at the Towers, and exorcised his ghosts.

Juliana had meant sanity to him. Yet this afternoon he had betrayed her. He had dragged her down into his private hell. It wasn’t fair that he wanted her so much, that he loved her—and couldn’t have her. He’d done the unforgiveable, but at least no one would ever know. She could go on with her life. And never again would he be alone with her—to have to face that temptation.

He really was a despicable bastard. Like Jules, his code of honor was lost. Irretrievable.

A knock sounded, and before he could deny admittance, Jules had opened the door and entered.

“Mon frère
, I am finished with games. We will talk. Now.”

His thoughts were so filled with Juliana, he could not muster fresh anger against his brother. “We have nothing to talk about, Jules. Go back to wherever you came from!” Dominic stopped in front of the leaded window. The sunlight streamed in, haloing his blond head, throwing his face into shadow.

“Enough time has passed and enough has happened for you to listen to me now,” Jules insisted. “You must hear the truth of that night or you…”

“There is nothing to say! And why would I believe you? I trusted you, my dashing big brother! The only one of them who cared a fig for me, I thought. But you … you were just like them. You lied to me for years! I saw the truth that night, and no explanation you can give will change what I saw … or what followed.”

“Dominic, you are not an impressionable young man any longer.” Jules approached the window. “I tried to comfort you then. I tried to tell you the truth, but you refused to listen.”