But she was not to be calmed down. She sat on the bed facing him, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. “Pemberth.” She shifted her gaze away guiltily. “I’m not certain your brother’s debt to my father was not paid. I found a notation made by him that he’d paid it off in full. This estate is not destitute, as you believe. Keenan made some excellent investments. You did not have to marry me. My father took advantage of your brother’s death by forcing—“
“Quimbly showed me the signed contract.” What was she saying? “Why have you not told me this before?” He’d trusted her with all of the estate books. He’d trusted she’d share anything of particular interest with him.
She easily could have done this earlier, before the Kemps arrived.
She turned pleading eyes toward him. “I wanted to verify the investment income before mentioning anything. We need to meet with your brother’s London solicitors. There are accounts…”
“And you thought I couldn’t handle the disappointment if you were wrong? You think so little of me? Is that why you are only telling me this now?”
She squeezed her eyes tight. “I did not want you to be angry with me for something my father did. The debt had already been paid, Pemberth! Don’t you see? You may have married me under false pretenses.”
Vincent let out a sigh. He wanted to be angry with her for keeping something of such import from him. He’d thought…
“I think my father had something to do with your brother’s death.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lila.” The only person he could blame for his brother’s death was buried six feet underground. Vincent got out of bed, pulling on his breeches. “Leave it be!”
“But my father was not home at the time of your brother’s death. He was gone on business. Is it possible that he came here? Is it—”
“Leave it, Lila!” Vincent had not, nor would he ever, discuss the nature or circumstance of Keenan’s death with anyone. And not because of his own reputation. His brother had been his hero. The fact that Keenan had taken his own life would stain his legacy forever. Vincent wanted no one to know, not even his wife. He pulled on a shirt and then shoved his feet into his boots.
“Where are you going? Please, Vincent. Talk to me.” The sight of her on her knees, begging him, ought to have been enough to soothe the torment she’d caused. But all he could see in that moment was his brother’s face, eyes staring at nothing, on that dreadful day. All he could think was that his brother had willingly abandoned him.
He turned away. How had this happened? One moment he was imagining a future with her, loving her, and the next, he was questioning everything. None of this made sense. He ran one hand through his hair.
“Were you only using me as well, Lila? To get away from him?” Of course, she had been! She’d admitted as much.
“At first––”
“Am I handy only until you get your sister away from him as well?” And then it dawned on him. “Is that why you have been so happy to please me in bed?”
She drew back, almost as though he had slapped her. And he felt guilty but quashed it immediately. He’d been duped for his own stupidity. And then she’d kept vital financial information from him. She’d not even hinted about it—about any of it—until he’d resisted bringing her sister to Glenn Abbey.
The damn crux of it was he would have brought the girl here quickly enough if Lila had only batted her lashes a few times at him. He’d been utterly besotted with her.
What kind of a fool was he?
If only he hadn’t been so such an idiot. If only he would have read the documents rather than shove them into a drawer. He jammed his hand into his jacket.
“Please don’t go.” He could see by the moonlight sparkling from her eyes that tears were threatening to fall. “Can we discuss this? Please?”
“Get some sleep, Lila. Take some of that draught your mother gave you.”
And then he strode out, feeling as much loss as abject fury. He’d been used by her father. His brother had told him nothing of any investments. And then his brother betrayed him in the worst possible way.
And now she had used him. Stinging burned his eyes. Less than an hour ago, she’d been lying beneath him, straining for him to fill her more deeply.
He stormed down the stairs, skipping every other one and when he found himself in the foyer entrance, he knew there was only one person to answer for any of this.
And he was a hard day’s ride away, damnit.
Vincent scribbled out a note in the salver and made his way to the stables. He’d have to awaken Calvin and Drake. But he’d have his answer, by God.
Whether he liked it or not.
10
Midnight journey
