His eyes turned bleak, unfocused, as if he were back there, in that moment. “My parents were in my father’s private sitting room. I was on my way to join them when I heard Father yell, and then the sound of two shots. I ran in and found them. They were alone, crumpled and bleeding on the floor, and the gun, part of my father’s dueling set, lying close to his hand.”
“Oh, Debnam. Could someone else have…” She hated that she’d stirred these shocking memories up again.
He shook his head. “Impossible for anyone to shoot them then flee unseen. My father must have lost his mind with rage over something. There had been no sign of it beforehand.” He raised his sad gaze to hers. “It’s been said he was mad.”
Laura moved to touch him, to try to banish all the times he had needed loving and had so little.
But Debnam shook his head. “I will not chance bringing a babe into this doomed family. Nor will I risk a wife.”
She saw how impossible it was to change his mind. His belief was too indelibly ingrained in his psyche. And there was nothing to refute it. She bowed her head and fell silent.
When she raised her face to him, his eyes still revealed his torment. But his voice was controlled, resigned. “I have come to terms with my lot, Laura. And so must you. Promise me you will not live out your life as a spinster in your brother’s house.”
A sudden thought leaped to her mind, one she’d never voiced before, but she knew to be true. “I’ll just go on loving you for as long as I live, so it matters not whether you send me away.”
Once Robert married, she doubted he and his bride would welcome her at Longworth. Debnam was right. Such a life would be insupportable.
Debnam groaned. “Sweetheart, knowing you love me means so much to me.” He hesitated, and she waited for him to say he loved her too. But he merely shook his head. “It is what it is. We must endure.”
“Then kiss me goodbye.”
He framed her face in his hands and kissed her with a fierce passion. Breathlessly tearing his lips from hers, he buried his face in the warmth of her neck.
Laura flung her head back and clung to his coat as her knees weakened. His arms tight around her, he molded her to his hard, heated body. Held within his muscular arms, they kissed again. Their panting breaths mingled. Desire and need settled heavy and low in her stomach. She never wanted him to stop. For this to never end. Thatheshould be the one. The thought of any other man touching her was an abomination.
With a groan, he pushed away from her, leaving her chilled and bereft. “Choose a good man who will love you and treat you well, Laura,” he said, his voice husky. He didn’t want that any more than she did.
And she hated to hear those words and might have shaken her head, but he raised her chin with his finger, lowered his head, and kissed her mouth again, then proceeded with tiny kisses across her cheek and beneath her ear. His soft, warm breath stirred the fine hairs on her neck and made her shiver. When he was near, that low throb in her stomach began and she lost her breath. Pressed against him, a hand at his nape, she pulled his head down to kiss him passionately. As if she could change everything by the sheer force of her will.
“Laura.” He broke away with a groan. The despair in his eyes mirrored her own.
“You mustn’t worry about me. I’m stronger than I look.”
With a small smile, he searched her eyes for a sign of her determination. “I know that. I’m counting on it.”
The idea of facing thetonagain was abhorrent, but she was determined not to say so. It would be unfair to leave him concerned about her.
“We’d best go back.” Debnam took her hand, and they walked along the path to the horses, while Laura, conscious of his strong, long-fingered clasp, bit her lip and tried to hold back the tears.
The time they’d spent together hadn’t been nearly enough. It wasn’t fair. It had only left her wanting more.
*
Brendan woke beforedawn. He lay in his bed with an arm over his eyes, dreading the coming day. Then he rose and dressed and walked out into the cool, morning air to the stables. Bruno whinnied when the horse spied Brendan, while Honey watched him with her soft, dark eyes. He stood watching Netterfield’s coach horses put in their traces for the journey and stayed to talk to the coachman until he, the footman, and the groom mounted the box and ordered the horses to walk on. Then Brendan followed it back to the front of the house, where Laura, Netterfield, and Wagstaff had gathered on the drive for the journey home.
As the footmen strapped the luggage to the back of the coach, Netterfield strolled over and offered his hand. “Well, Debnam, I must thank you for your hospitality.”
Obviously, the baron had no wish to take responsibility for his appalling behavior, the result of his self-inflicted injury, and his prolonged stay at Beechley Park.
“No need.” Brendan shook his hand. “I would do anything to help your sister.”
The baron flushed deep crimson. “Yes, well. This didn’t turn out quite as planned. I’m sorry, but mistakes were made.”
Brendan turned his back on him. He walked over to Wagstaff, who stood a little apart.
“Good to see you, Wagstaff.” Brendan offered his hand.
“I remember you well, milord,” Wagstaff said, giving it a hearty shake. “Those times as a lad you visited Camelia Grove with the countess. When Master Simon was alive, that was.”
