"Not
when you shot him. He died later in a village outside Paris."
"You
should have told me."
"I
only discovered the truth earlier today."
"And
what about Emily? Does she know?"
"No,
I was going to inform her tonight."
"It
matters not, Jared. I still forbid you to marry my sister. You carry too much
baggage. There are things I know about you, things you've done, things that
Emily should never have to live with."
"The
devil, Elbourne! It was war. You did the same things as I."
"But
Emily did not. Her missions were different." Roderick grabbed Jared by the
cravat and pushed him back. "Stay away from her. She deserves
better."
Jared
lunged forward and took another swing. Roderick struck back. After a few
minutes of scuffling, both men lay on the floor panting for breath.
Jared
breathed heavily. "Whether you like it or not, I will marry your
sister."
"No,
you will not!"
Both
heads whipped around as Emily's voice filled the room. She stepped past the
dining room doors, her face an angry shade of red. Turning, she slammed the
doors shut, then faced the two disheveled men.
"How
dare you two decide my life." She pointed a shaking finger at Roderick.
"You! I will no longer have you deciding what I can and cannot do, whom I
can see and whom I cannot!"
Jared
smiled.
"And
as for you," she snapped, turning toward Jared. "You are an
insufferable lout."
Jared's
brows lifted. This time it was Roderick's turn to smile.
"Now,"
she said almost too calmly. "Roderick, you will leave this room and let me
speak to Lord Stonebridge alone." She glared at her immobile sibling.
Finally,
Roderick unfolded his tall body from the floor and walked toward his sister.
"I will not leave. You may speak to this man, but by heaven, I won't leave
you alone with him."
Emily's
eyes narrowed. "So help me, Roderick, if you deny my request, I will give
Jane a detailed history of your past female acquaintances the last three years
of your life."
Roderick's
expression became one of disgusted horror. "Why, you little vixen. How
would you know anything about my ... my past?"
"You
forget, dear brother, Silver Fox is capable of many covert activities."
Roderick's
face was as taut as a violin bow. He looked at Jared, then back to Emily.
"We will speak of this later."
Emily
managed a stiff smile. "I thought you would see it my way."
"Yes,
well, whether you like it or not, I am still your guardian, and you have
exactly five minutes."
"More
than I should ever need."
A wide
smile spread across Jared's face as he watched the Duke of Elbourne leave the
room.
However,
Jared knew he was walking a fine line, for it was most likely the lady had
discovered his secret. He stepped toward her with open arms. "Emily,
sweetheart."
The bottle
of port flew by him in an angry crash, spraying the red liquid over the front
of his white linen shirt.
"Perhaps
you should have told me the truth," she said, her fists balled at her
sides.
"The
truth?" His mouth tightened as he grabbed a napkin off the table to wipe
his face.
"Yes,
the truth. Do you even know the word, my lord?"
His head
snapped up, his expression cold with fury. "The truth that your father was
in love with my mother all those years? The truth that my grandfather denied
his offer of marriage? The truth that my mother loved another and not your
father? Is that what you wanted to hear? The truth that your father denied my
suit because of revenge?" His hand fisted about the napkin. "The
truth that he planned for Felicia to fall into my arms that night, thereby
compromising me ... and her?"
"No!"
Emily took a faltering step back. Her father had planned Jared's marriage to
Felicia?
"It's
all true, Emily. Every word of it."
No, this
could not be true. Her father had loved Jared’s mother and took revenge on the
woman's son, keeping Emily from the man she loved? No!
But a
tiny voice whispered in her head that her father’s love for another woman made
too much sense not to be true. Her mother and father fighting. Her mother's
sobs at night. The late duke's abandonment of any type of romantic notion and
passing the same sentiments on to his sons.
"N-no,"
she said on a more somber note, "I wanted to know about your
daughter."
"Yes,
I have a daughter," he voiced in irritation as he slapped the napkin back
over the seat of the chair. "Her name is Gabrielle. And your brother has
quite a mouth."
His
annoyance at her was unbelievable. He was the one who lied, not her. "At
least he has a heart!"
Dark
amber eyes flashed a firm warning. "And what do you mean by that,
madam?"
"You
left your child in the country as if she had never been born. How could you do
such a wretched thing?"
"My
child is not your business," he ripped out angrily. "You, madam, are
not the child's mother."
Emily
flinched as if he had slapped her. No, she was not the girl's mother, and he
would never let her forget that fact. Her anguish peaked, destroying the last
shreds of hope for their future. "A fact I am certain you will not
forget."
Jared's
face changed and he took a step forward, his voice softening. "You don't
understand, Emily. I had to keep Gabrielle safe."
Emily
fought hard against the tears clogging her throat. "Did you have any idea
that Mrs. Allison spent your money on a lavish lifestyle, almost ignoring your
daughter completely?"
His
expression grew hard again. "Impossible. I obtained glowing reports of
Mrs. Allison from Whitehall."
Before
Emily could respond, the door opened and a child's gentle laughter floated into
the room.
Jared
turned. "What the devil?"
Emily's
skirts brushed past him as she stalked toward the door. "Not the devil, my
lord. Your daughter."
Shocked,
Jared flung his gaze to the squirming blond bundle held in Agatha's arms.
"Gabrielle?"
"This.
This." The little girl's high-pitched voice was like a tinkling bell on
Christmas morning. How long had he been gone from her? He watched in awe as her
small, delicate hand groped for Agatha's parasol. His heart ached to hold her.
"How
could you not have told me?" Agatha's sharp whisper pierced the air like a
thousand well-aimed arrows.
"I
had my reasons," he said coolly, pulling back his port-stained shoulders,
knowing he had never visited Gabrielle for reasons of safety, but now he felt
the fool ten times over.
Gray
eyes burned into his face as Agatha lowered the girl to her feet. "I could
have taken care of her, Jared. You should never have left her in that woman's
hands."
Jared
cringed. How could he have been so wrong? Mrs. Allison's recommendations must
have been forged. But he should have known. The lieutenant who sent him the
report about the lady had been caught embezzling government funds only last
week. Yet the man's previous record had been impeccable. Jared had never
thought there would be a problem with Mrs. Allison.
He
stared at Gabrielle as she toddled toward him. Adorable yellow curls framed a
pair of pale cheeks. He felt as if someone had taken hold of his heart and
squeezed. He would personally see to it that Mrs. Allison never cared for
anyone else's children. Ever. Yet he knew he had failed again.
He
peered up at Agatha. "I could not disclose her whereabouts. At least, not
until today."
He knelt
on the floor when his daughter tried to grab his pocket watch, yanking it from
his coat. "This. This," she said, her amber eyes sparkling with glee.
He
managed a smile and gave her the watch. At least her spirit was not broken.
"Gabrielle," he said, wrapping his arms around her delicate frame.
"Baby ... I missed you."
"I
pray you will search your heart, my lord," Emily said in a hoarse whisper,
"and do your duty with your little girl. I dearly hope that as you do,
your wife can finally rest in peace."
Jared
was stunned by Emily's comment. "I don't think you understand. I had to
leave my daughter in the country."
Emily
bit her lip. "What kind of father are you?"
Agatha
lifted her chin and thumped her parasol against a chair. "Really, Jared.
How could you?" With those scorning words, she marched from the room, closing
the door behind her.
Jared
felt his collar grow warm as Emily glared at him. Perhaps he should have done
things differently, but it was too late now. "Maybe I should have told you
about my daughter and asked for help. But it was because of my work, Emily. You
have heard of Monsieur Devereaux?"
A muscle
twitched in Emily's cheek. "Of course."
"He
swore to kill me."
"But
he died in Paris."
"No,
he died in a village outside Paris months after he was shot. His death was not
truly confirmed until earlier today. I could not take the chance of letting the
man go after my family. You must see that. I had to keep Gabrielle safe until I
was certain of his death."
"Papa!"
Squealing with glee, Gabrielle rolled on the floor, playing with Jared's pocket
watch.
Emily
glanced at the little girl, then shifted her teary gaze back to Jared.
"You knew you could trust me, Jared. You, of all people, knew who I was.
Yet you kept this from me, deliberately, just as you kept the truth from me
about my father. He may have been wrong about what he had done, but you were
wrong keeping the truth from me. We cannot have a relationship based on
half-truths."
Jared
knelt down and brushed Gabrielle's soft curls. "I did what I thought was
right."
"And
so will I," Emily said, retreating.
Jared
lifted his head. "Where are you going?"
Emily
reached for the door and glanced over her shoulder, her violet eyes brimming
with tears. "You should have told me."
Jared
opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say another word, she slipped
from the room.
"Papa,"
Gabrielle whispered as she stroked his cheek.
Jared
turned to his daughter and buried his face in her hair. "Gabrielle,"
he said, his throat closing with emotion.
How had
Emily known his child had been in trouble when he, the Black Wolf, had no idea?
Emily had brought his little girl back to him, and for that, he would be
forever grateful.
He would
take Gabrielle back to his townhouse tonight. The refurbishing of his home had
been finished two days ago. Agatha and Jane could return with him as well.
Tomorrow,
after apologizing to Emily, Jared would formally ask for her hand in marriage.
She would forgive him. She loved him, did she not? He assured himself that all
she needed was a day to cool her temper, and although futile, he would request
Roderick's permission to wed his sister. As for Emily, she would demand her
brother's cooperation.
Jared
smiled, kissing his daughter's cheek. He and Emily would be married by special
license as soon as possible.
"I
have no more patience, Agatha. I have only one heart and he has broken it time
and time again. I am a human being. I want stability. I want trust. I want
love, unconditionally, and if he cannot give both to his daughter and me, I
cannot marry him. I would rather marry Lord Bringston. At least I know where I
stand with him." Emily's voice broke miserably as she fled up the steps to
her room.
Agatha
stood planted at the foot of the stairs, two fat tears trickling down her plump
cheeks. "Oh, Jared, what have you done?"
Chapter
Fourteen
A
cluster of gray clouds hung in the
sky, giving way to a brisk, chilling wind wailing outside the Elbourne
townhouse. Emily sat in the family carriage as her trunks were being packed.
She was returning to the country where she would sort out her emotions,
finalize her engagement with Lord Bringston, and move on with her life.
With a
tired sigh, she rested her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
She felt empty, drained, numb to everything around her. One of her footmen called
out, but his words were muffled in the wind. She had no reason to look up when
Stephen climbed in beside her, the leather creaking against his weight as the carriage
door clicked closed behind him.
"Dreaming,
sweetheart?"
Emily's
eyes jerked open at the sound of Jared's amused voice. Deep amber eyes stared
back at her. "Where's my brother?"
"Which
one?"
Emily
felt the full force of his smile, and her stomach knotted. "What do you
want?"
"I
want to thank you for returning my daughter to me."
"Then,
I am happy for you. Is that all?"
"Is
that all?" He looked stunned. "I mean to go forward and ask Roderick
for your hand. I was hoping you would be there. But it seems you are
leaving."
Her eyes
widened and she looked away, the pain of his lies clawing at her heart.
"No need to avail yourself to such a displeasing confrontation with my
brother. I see no future for us. You deliberately lied to me about your
daughter . . . and my father."
"Your
father?"
"Yes."
She swung back to him. "You should have told me everything sooner,
including the fact that you had a child."
There
was a distinct coolness in his eyes when he spoke. "I beg to differ. I
already told you that I revealed my information when I deemed it
necessary."
"When
you deemed?" Her temper flared. "First, you thank me for reuniting
you with your daughter, and now, you contradict yourself, sir."
The
bronzed skin against his cheekbones pulled taut. "And you, madam, are a
spoiled daughter of a duke."
Her face
burned with humiliation. "I may be the daughter of a duke," she
sputtered, "but you . . . you are a liar."
"Is
that how you see me, then? As a liar?"
Emily
became increasingly uneasy under his scrutiny and waved her gloved hand at him,
dismissing him as if he were another one of her misguided suitors. "My
brother may be here any minute, you best leave."
"And
hide beneath the bed, madam?" His laugh held no humor. "You think me
a coward as well as a liar, then?"
A sudden
chill hung onto the end of his words, and Emily knew without doubt that her
future rested on her reply. She bit her bottom lip, feeling an acute sense of
loss. He had misled her. Strung her along like a puppet for the last time. She
owed it to herself to cut the string forever.
"Yes."
Her one-word reply was like a harsh echo.
In one
fluid motion, he leaned forward, his fingers clamping hold of her chin.
"By Jove, if you were a man, I would call you out for that."
Emily
measured him with an icy glare and jerked away. "How indelicate of me to
be born a female, my lord. But pray, do not let that stop you."
"Then
adieu, madam. I won't embarrass you by my presence any longer. I wish you a
safe and healthy journey." He flipped open the carriage door and jumped to
the ground.
She
hesitated, then called out to him. "Jared!"
He glanced
over his shoulder and raised a mocking brow. "Setting the time and the
place, madam?"
Emily's
nails bit into the leather seat. She would not let him know how much he had
hurt her. "No."
"No?"
he answered harshly. "Forget something, then? My heart on a silver platter
perhaps?"
The icy
reserve between them grew.
Her
silence caused a thin smile to appear on his lips, and he bowed. "Your
servant, madam." The carriage door clicked closed with a push of his hand,
and she was alone.
Emily
tilted her head toward the window, listening to his heels clapping hard against
the walk. He seemed to be distancing himself from her as swiftly as possible,
as if a rifle were pointed at his back.
She
noted it had started to rain again and closed the curtains, leaning her head
against the leather seat, helpless to stop the stinging tears that collected in
her eyes.
"Hell's
bells, Em," Stephen said, flipping open the door of the carriage and
wiping his wet face. "What on earth vexed Roderick this morning. His
tyranny act at breakfast did nothing for my digestion, I can tell you
that."
"I
believe it had something to do with Miss Greenwell," Emily said, dropping
her watery gaze to her gloved hands.
Stephen
shook his head. "No future there. Stonebridge would never allow it."
Emily
nodded. No, Jared would never allow any type of attachment to her family now.
The man despised her.
"Would
you mind asking the driver to stop at Lord Bringston's on the way?" she
asked.
Stephen's
expression clouded. "You jest?"
She
avoided his unwavering gaze by watching the angry raindrops slapping against
the cobblestone street—much like the tears beating against the ragged chambers
of her heart. She swallowed a sad laugh. Wordsworth would have been proud.
"I
have made my decision, Stephen. In fact, I made my choice known to Roderick
this morning."
Stephen
plowed a hand through his already disheveled hair. "By Jove, do you
realize the implications here?"
"I
know precisely what I am doing, Stephen." I'm marrying a man who will
never lie to me. I'm marrying a man who will care for me. I'm marrying a man
who does not love me.
Sitting
in the drawing room of his townhouse, Jared lifted his gaze from the London
Gazette as Jane's blue eyes burned a hole through his paper.
"Would
you mind very much if I took the carriage?" she asked him, sitting on the
sofa beside Agatha, the two ladies keeping Gabrielle busy with a ball.
"Take
Agatha with you," he said, glancing back at a piece about Parliament.
"And I still forbid you to speak to the duke."
Jane
stomped her slipper. "But it has been two weeks."
Agatha
frowned, handing Gabrielle to the nanny stepping into the room. "See to it
that she gets her snack, Mrs. Nelle, and then I believe a nap would be in
order."
"Very
good, Miss Appleby. Come along, precious. Nellie will give you some
biscuits."
At that
exact moment Nigel thumped into the room, jumping at Gabrielle and barking
unceasingly. Gabrielle giggled. "Doggie mine. Mine. Mine."
Smiling,
Jared stood and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Yes, he's yours,
poppet. Now, go along with Mrs. Nelle and eat your biscuits."
"Bipkit,
mine. Mine."
Nigel
barked, hanging onto every word Gabrielle uttered.
Jared's
eyes crinkled with laughter as he watched the trio retreat from the room. At
least something in his life was going right. He jumped back when Agatha rapped
her parasol on his boot. Almost everything, he thought with a scowl.
"What?"
he asked, clearly irritated.
"Insufferable,"
she snapped.
"Insufferable?
What are you talking about?"
"The
duke," she ground out.
Jared
groaned and took his seat, shifting his gaze back to the paper, ignoring Jane's
glare as well. "I may be at fault for many things, Aunt, but I will not
take the blame for that odious windbag."
Jane
gasped.
"Insufferable,
insufferable, insufferable," Agatha fumed.
Jared
pursed his lips, looking up. "Insufferable? I daresay, I am swiftly tiring
of that confounded word."
"You
must allow Jane to see the duke. His Grace has been here three times the past
two weeks, and you have refused him entrance. I cannot believe you would dare
to slight a man of such consequence. Emily has nothing to do with this."
"Consequence
indeed." He tried to disguise his annoyance at his aunt's reference to
Emily by turning back to the paper once again. "The answer is still
no."
Jane let
out a sob and rushed out of the room.
Agatha
shook a chubby hand his way. "How could you hurt her so? I will have you
know that I can see to having you removed from London in a matter of
days."
Jared
almost laughed at Agatha's threat. "Do tell? And how, pray, would you go
about doing that?"
Agatha
rang for tea, sinking back into the sofa. "La, you of all people should
have discovered the true facts by now."
Jared
put down his paper, deciding to let his aunt have her say. "What
facts?"
"Emily
for one."
His hand
stiffened on the arm of his chair. "That is not a fact, that is
history."
Agatha's
gray eyes glinted with understanding. "Ah, so that is how the wind blows.
You are still in love with her."
Jared
rested against the cushions of his chair, picked up his paper, and sighed.
"I won't match your wit today, Aunt. Tell me what you wish, then let me
be."
"Let
His Grace see Jane. She will be seen in the park with a man of consequence. You
need not worry about a permanent attachment. It's not as if the duke is offering
marriage."
Jared
snapped the newspaper taut. "To use your words, you know which way the
wind blows on that. The subject is closed."
Her
shoulders stiffened. "Very well, you force my hand."
Jared
lifted an amused brow. "What will you do, send me to my bedchamber without
supper?"
"No."
With parasol in hand, she stalked across the room and shut the drawing room
doors with a resounding thud. Her parasol slapped angrily back across the
Aubusson rug as she folded her plump body onto the sofa. "I believe I will
send you and the duke to St. Helena to spy on that Little Corsican."
Jared's
spine straightened and his concern grew. Something in Agatha's manner told him
the lady meant every word she said. The nape of his neck began to prickle. The assignment
concerning Napoleon had been canceled, and no one had news of the missive
except Roderick and Emily. "What did you say?"
Her gray
eyes gleamed with determination. "Are you deaf?"
He
considered her challenge with a scrupulous stare. "I am not deaf, and I
would appreciate it if you never asked me that again. The phrase has become
quite tedious, but I believe you owe me an explanation as to the source of your
information, madam, as we have been down this road before."
Agatha
lifted her double chin. "You will be taking the trip as soon as I can see
to the arrangements."
"And
how will you perform this grand feat?"
Both
heads turned when the maid knocked on the door and proceeded to stroll into the
room, tea tray in hand. Jared rose from his seat and paced the room in
uncertainty as the tea was poured and the maid retreated, closing the doors
behind her.
Agatha
raised her cup to her mouth. "Now, as I was saying, a little call to
Headquarters and you will be shipped off as soon as I say the word."
"You
think they will listen to you?" Jared laughed. He had been to
Headquarters. They seemed to know nothing about Agatha.
Agatha
snorted. "How do you think I obtained knowledge of Emily's
misfortune?"
The
thought of Emily's dangerous assignment that saved his life made his stomach
turn. He looked up, acutely aware of Agatha's scrutiny and managed an amused
expression. "For the love of King George, you are picking at straws,
Aunt."
She
clanked her china cup onto the saucer, her lips thinning in irritation.
"How do you think Emily made contact with Headquarters? Through the local
milkmaid?"
A vein
throbbed in Jared's temple. "Not you?" The thought of Agatha
formulating any directives during the war sent his emotions swirling out of
control.
"'Course,
it was me. Among other things."
Jared
felt his heart stop. "You arranged for the meeting that evening at the
ball?" he said in a choked voice.
His
garbled response seemed to amuse Agatha. "La, my boy, I have been involved
behind the lines more years than you ever need to know. My desire to be part of
the war effort led to an opportune position that would undoubtedly surprise
anybody."
Surprise
was too lame a word for the feelings Jared harbored just now. "But I
cannot fathom ..." He shook his head and stumbled for the precise words
that explained his feelings.
"Fustian."
Agatha picked up the paper and slapped it hard against Jared's shoulder.
"Take a good look at that, my lord."