“My father went to war shortly after he and my mother married.” The steady tone of his voice showed no irritation at her questions. “He didn’t make it back. I never knew him.”
“Your mother never remarried?”
He took a deep breath. “I think she wanted to. I think she would have… at first. But my father failed to provide for her, and she fell on hard times. She lacked… protection. She’s never told me, but I’ve since deduced that her family opposed their marriage. And she was too proud to return to them upon his death. We lived in a small village not far from Bath. The men who wooed my mother never followed through with any sort of respectable offer.”
Rhoda swallowed hard as the reality of his childhood dawned upon her. “You were poor?”
He nodded. “We were.”
“But I’ve met your mother, on a few occasions. She’s a beautiful woman. She mingles in theton.” Her statement was a question.
“I’m not sure who wrote who first, but the duchess and my mother began corresponding at some point. My mother told me we were only coming to Eden’s Court for a short visit.” He smiled ruefully. “We never really left. I was sent off to attend school along with the heirs to a dukedom. The duchess never made us feel as though we were an imposition. She insisted we were family. Family took care of one another.”
“So… you were close to all of them.” He’d been close to the family that had been decimated by tragedy last year. She remembered how he’d nearly jumped off the cliff after Lord Harold’s fall. He’d persisted more adamantly than St. John that they bring in rescue efforts.
He nodded. “Not so much the duke, himself. But to Harold and Dev.” He met her eyes candidly. “And yes, to St. John.”
The honesty of his gaze caused her to look away and, staring across the lawn, she spoke without thinking. “I thought that I loved him. I thought that he loved me.” What was it about this man that invited her confessions?
He didn’t respond to her declaration, just sat calmly as a gentle breeze swirled across the terrace. When she shivered, he rose, removed his jacket, and dropped it on her shoulders. She huddled in his leftover warmth and watched him take his seat again.
“I did it.” She spoke the words aloud. “I lay with him.” A small portion of the weight she’d been carrying lifted from her chest. “I assumed he’d visit my father shortly after, but he didn’t. In fact, I saw less of him afterward. He ceased singling me out.” She swallowed the sob that threatened to follow her admission. She’d not said the words aloud to anyone.
She’d been so hopeful. So damnably proud.
She’d imagined how pleased her father would be. She’d thought it might change things for their family, for her father…
St. John’s touch had felt like love, like a promise.
She’d tried to forget, but the memory remained as vivid as ever. He’d collected her from her parents’ home, and they’d ridden the short distance on his high flyer. “He invited me to visit Prescott House.” She laughed at herself. “I felt so honored. He wouldn’t bring me to his home if his intentions weren’t honorable! Would he? Of course not! I ignored every piece of advice I’d ever been given. Even so, I should have suspected something when no one else was about. It was a few days after Sophia and Harold’s wedding, just before we were to leave for Priory Point.” God, she’d been so excited. “I was such a fool!”
Lord Carlisle still hadn’t spoken.
“He wanted to give me a tour, he said. He showed me the gallery, the gardens, and then, of course, the tour would not be complete unless I saw his chamber.”
“But you trusted him.” These were the first words he’d spoken since she began her confession.
“Yes.” A sudden lump formed in her throat. She had. She’d trusted him. He’d treated her as though she were special. As though hecaredfor her.
“At some point, I stopped thinking of him as a marquess, and I began to see him as the man, St. John. Lucas. Was all of it a ruse? I was so easily deceived.”
Lord Carlisle leaned forward, that thinking position of his that was becoming all too familiar. He loosely clasped his hands together, staring at the ground. “I don’t think St. John would have feigned affection. Not that I’m defending him, mind you. You must understand, he was always set apart from the rest of us. Duty to his legacy came first. We went to school, and he had a tutor. We played games while he sat at his father’s feet.” His voice broke.
“And it was all for nothing.” Miss Mossant spoke the words he couldn’t quite bring himself to say aloud.
“All the training, the grooming, destroyed in the blink of an eye against the side of a rocky cliff.” Justin cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say, what I’m doing a poor job of saying, is that I don’t believe St. John didnotlove you. I simply believe there were limits to what he could give.”
“You don’t seem shocked.” She stared at him, her gaze cool and collected once again. She’d scared him earlier. Her face had turned white as a sheet and she’d nearly fainted dead away. She seemed better now. He only wished she didn’t find it necessary to rebuild all her defenses.
He shrugged. “Let he without sin cast the first stone.”
She laughed at that. He hated when she did that. He ought to leave Eden’s Court tomorrow. Purge this woman from his blood. He had responsibilities at Carlisle House.
“I’m sorry.” She’d stopped laughing, and some warmth entered her expression. “You don’t deserve my acid tongue.” At the mention of her tongue, he couldn’t help but recall how she’d used it earlier that night. She avoided meeting his eyes. Perhaps she, too, was remembering.
He wouldn’t leave yet. He had to see this through.
He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “I wish to court you.” He was not a person to play games. He would be up front about his intentions.
