Any woman would feel beautiful belonging to Rhys. He was so sophisticated and sinfully handsome. The fierce possession in his eyes made her feel like…a duchess.
The thought reminded her of Horatio’s letter and the reference to the demons of Rhys’s past. She’d seen how that letter had shaken him. Being no idiot, she knew that he had evaded her question about the demons. Her intuition told her they had something to do with his family. With the parents he didn’t like to discuss. With the woman whose necklace she now wore.
She hesitated, not wanting to intrude upon his privacy. At the same time, he had helped her…and given her many other gifts besides. Her fingertips brushed over the carved jade. Perhaps she could give something to him in return.
Hesitating, she said, “Rhys, I’ve been meaning to ask…”
“Yes, Maggie mine?” He tipped her chin up. “You can ask me anything.”
You wanted an opening; here it is.
“What demons was your uncle referring to?”
His hand dropped. Beneath the black velvet, his broad shoulders tensed. “I told you Horatio was just being fanciful.”
“That is what you said. But I think there is more.” She searched his hooded gaze. “Will you not share it with me, Rhys? You know about my family, warts and all. Will you not trust me…the way I’ve trusted you?”
“Trust has naught to do with it.” He raked a hand through his dark mane. “It’s unpleasant business, Maggie. There’s no use dredging it up.”
“I want to hear it,” she pressed. “Since Horatio brought it up in his letter, perhaps this is information that will help us find the treasure. He wants you to face these demons, whatever they are. But you do not have to do so alone; I am here.”
He gave her a brooding look. “Scotch is necessary for this conversation.”
She waited for him to return with a whiskey for himself and a glass of ratafia for her. He sat next to her on the divan, taking a long swallow of the amber liquid before he began.
“By demons, I believe Horatio was alluding to my parents. I’ll start with my father, Phillip. You know he and I did not get on.”
“He was dreadful to you,” she said hotly. “Blamed you for his mistakes and called you weak when you are anything but.”
“He did more than call me weak.” Rhys’s mouth twisted. “He tried to train the weakness out of me.”
The hairs shivered on her nape. “Train?”
“It was his belief that a man should depend on no one. From the time I was born, he kept me separated from my mama. Whenever he felt that I became too attached to a servant, he dismissed them immediately. I can’t remember all the names of my nannies, governesses, and tutors: there were too many.”
Maggie’s heart squeezed. “Oh, Rhys.”
“I was not permitted to have friends. The closest I had to a playmate was a foxhound…Bailey.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, as if he were trying to contain some powerful emotion. “Bailey had been born the runt of the litter, so I got to keep him. For five years, he was my constant companion. One day, when I was eight, I was playing with Bailey and accidentally broke a vase. My father flew into a rage. He dragged Bailey outside, and he…he shot him.”
Stunned by such cruelty, she didn’t know what to say.
“I just stood there—didn’t do anything. Just watched as he killed my dog.” Rhys’s tones were flat, terrifyingly devoid of emotion. “He told me it was my fault, that I should have had Bailey under control. When I started crying, he called me a pathetic weakling. Said that my mongrel blood was a taint to the Cavendish name.”
“The bloodyblackguard.” Rage overcame her shock. “It wasnotyour fault. Your father is entirely to blame. He took his anger out on an innocent animal—and hurt you, his own son, in the process. If he were here, I’d take a pan to him!”
At her passionate declaration, Rhys smiled faintly, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He took another drink of whiskey before continuing.
“The irony of it is, Phillip extolled self-sufficiency but never achieved it for himself. As a young man, he gambled away the family fortune and had to leave for foreign lands to try to regain it. He ran into trouble in China; a dispute with dockside ruffians nearly led to his demise. A powerful local merchant witnessed the altercation and offered to intervene. In return, my father promised to marry the merchant’s daughter, Yu-Yan. He returned to London with my mother, and I was born a year later. By then, he’d already removed her to the country seat. To keep her out of sight.”
“Why?” Maggie asked.
“He was ashamed of her. Of tainting the Cavendish blood with a ‘foreign element’.” Rhys stared at the half-empty glass in his hands. “I think the truth was that she was the symbol of his desperation and failures, and he hated her for it.”
What a bastard.Controlling her anger, Maggie said cautiously, “What was your mama like?”
“I don’t know. Phillip restricted my contact with her; I was permitted to see her a few times a year, and the visits were brief, chaperoned by him. He prevented her from learning English, so she and I never spoke, really. She’d just look at me, and her eyes, they were always…sad.” His own gaze took on a distant look. “She didn’t leave her room, couldn’t walk far…because of pain. She’d brought a young maid with her, a girl whose name was Show Me—well, that wasn’t her real name, but that was what it sounded like to me. Show Me had picked up a little English and told me once that my mother’s feet had been broken and bound since she was a girl in order to keep them as tiny as possible.”
“That is barbaric,” Maggie gasped.
