“Because I am still in love with him,” she admitted, a tear at last slipping down her cheek. “I never stopped. His return has proven that to me without a doubt. But I am afraid. He betrayed me once. How can I ever give him my trust again?”
Maggie’s expression turned pensive. “Nell, there is something I must tell you. I hope you can forgive me for not doing so before, but you seemed so happy with Lord Sidmouth, and I did not want to cause you any upset after you had already endured so much. I also was uncertain of the veracity of Lady Billingsley’s claims. I thought perhaps she made them as a final way of hurting Simon.”
Nell frowned, trying to make sense of her friend’s sudden change in demeanor. “What did she say?”
“When Lady Billingsley died, she left behind a letter for Simon,” Maggie said softly. “In it, she wrote about that night with Lord Needham.”
Lady Billingsley had once been Simon’s mistress. When he had chosen his love for Maggie over her, Lady Billingsley had leapt from a window, committing suicide in brutal fashion.
Nell stiffened now, steeling herself. “Tell me what she wrote, if you please.”
“She claimed what happened between her and Lord Needham had been a mistake,” Maggie said. “That they had both been deep in their cups, and that Lord Needham had been asleep in his bed when she had unwittingly entered the chamber, thinking it was Simon’s. She wrote him that they had kissed and nothing more, that she had never betrayed him. I… I hope you can forgive me for not telling you sooner. Her assertions made no difference to Simon because he had moved on with me, and I thought it would be the same for you. Now, I am not so certain.”
Nell reeled with the information.
It was the same story Jack had told her, almost verbatim.
Could it be that his story about that night had been the truth?
“It is exactly what Jack told me,” she told Maggie. “I refused to believe him. It seemed far too convenient, and Lady Billingsley is no longer here to tell her side of the tale.”
“Her words remain.” Maggie’s expression was stricken. “Oh my dearest friend, I am so very sorry for keeping this from you. I never should have. In thinking to spare you further upset, I believe I may have only created more.”
Nell shook her head. “Nonsense. You have become a dear friend to me, and I know you would never seek to hurt me. You are not responsible for my disastrous marriage. I am.”
Indeed, if what Lady Billingsley had written and what Jack told her was true, Nell had been more culpable than she had ever imagined. If she had believed him, trusted him, three years ago, he may have never left. They may have never been apart. The realization was devastating.
“If you still love Needham and he is intent upon winning you back, perhaps it is not as disastrous as you suppose,” Maggie suggested gently.
The little Lord Hill, so styled as Sandhurst’s heir, began to complain again, this time more vehemently. Nell knew the feeling. She was feeling rather distressed herself at the moment. Uncertain as well. More confused than ever.
Maggie rose from her seat and gently bounced her son to soothe him as she walked. Nell stood as well. “May I hold him, Maggie?”
She had not held him since the day of his birth. What a miracle he had been, red-faced and squalling, the tuft of dark, silky hair upon his head sticking up on end. But the urge to hold him now could not be contained.
“Of course, my dear. Come and take him.”
Maggie’s proud smile and look of tender adoration as she handed off her son to Nell made her heart ache. Lord Hill was an adorable blend of his mother and father, gazing up at her with wide, blue eyes. She ran her finger over his plump cheek. How soft he was. How precious.
“There you are, sweet one. I have missed you,” she cooed to him.
He gave her a dimpled smile and cooed, as if to say he had missed her too.
“That look becomes you,” Maggie said.
She glanced back at her friend to find Maggie watching her with a knowing regard. Yearning rose within her, deep and undeniable.
“I have longed to become a mother,” she admitted. “When I was with you at Denver House for your lying in, it changed something in me.”
“You will be a wonderful mother, Nell,” her friend said, her voice ringing with certainty.
“I am afraid, Maggie.” She caressed the baby’s cheek again. “What shall I do? I want to believe Jack. I want the love we once shared. But I am not even sure if that is possible. Can I ever truly trust him?”
“Trust your heart,” Maggie advised. “Your heart will guide you. It did me, and I have never regretted my decision to find my happiness with Simon. Do not forget, I was in your position once, determined to divorce my husband. We may not have had the most conventional of beginnings to our marriage, but where there is love, there is always hope. Our love brought us together, made us stronger. And now, we have little Alexander. The reward was worth far more than the risks.”
Did she dare trust her heart? Did she dare trust Jack?
“I love my husband quite desperately, I am afraid.” The words were torn from her. “Poor Tom…I have just come from crying off with him, and I fear I have broken his heart. But I knew it was not right. I knew I could never care for him the way I love Jack. There is no comparison between the two.”
