Chapter Twenty-Three
“Son? You must be delusional Susannah.” Benedict’s heart was thrashing against his chest. Much as he needed to unleash his fury on his ex-wife, he needed to maintain his composure for everyone’s benefit. For his own integrity. For Amelia’s sake.
Amelia, the woman he loved. The woman he loved to rescue.
The woman he loved to love. And the woman he loved to be rescued by.
She bravely marched into the Lyon’s Den and walked out with him, not knowing that she was offering him redemption.
His life had been bleak before her. Full of resentment.
Anger. Mistrust. And when she came into his life, he thought she was going to be another reason to distrust women.
Only…she was the epitome of grace and love.
She cared more about the people around her than anyone he had ever known. She was loyal to a fault. Willing to sacrifice her life, her future, for her sister. She was a treasure, and he needed her to know it. That she was his only focus now. It was time someone stepped in to take care of her.
His ex-wife deserved none of his attention. None of his emotions. None of him at all. Only Amelia deserved it.
“You have a son, Benedict.”
“No, I do not.” He would have known. He would have been aware if his seed had taken root and a part of him existed somewhere in the world. He would have felt it in his soul. There was no way he had a child. With her. “You must be mistaken.”
“You’re arguing with me?” Her hand manipulatively touched her belly.
The gasp that emitted from Amelia made him want to turn around and protect her.
Tell her everything. Reassure her. But he didn’t want to give Susannah any firepower over him.
She was more manipulative by half than anyone he had ever met.
And indicating his feelings for Amelia at this juncture could prove devastating.
“It’s been years. You would have told me.”
“I didn’t want you to have him. I resented you.”
He scoffed. “You resented me? That’s ironic, considering the circumstances.” That was just like Susannah. She would be the woman to try and hold all the cards so that she could make her move and play everyone around her. He had hated her for that.
Had.
Now as he stared at her, he pitied her. She was looking for something. Almost desperate. He could see it because he knew her. Though to others she might look composed, he could detect the panic in her.
And within himself…it wasn’t so much hatred anymore. Not even resentment. Love had blossomed in his heart for Amelia and there wasn’t as much room in there for such negativity as before. His chest inflated with relief. With a newfound freedom. Love was truly the most powerful force on earth.
And again, he wanted to turn and embrace his love. Devour her. Fill her soul with everything he had. But now was not the time. So he stood with his back to her, protectively. Doing what he did best. Ensure her safety.
“Call it what you will. But he needs you now.”
“Why?”
“He’s sick.”
“So you’re here for money?”
This was the first time she displayed any amount of insecurity. Pulling on the ruffled cuffs of her sleeves, she paused.
“He’s the rightful heir—”
Benedict’s feet stumbled back as if he’d been shoved.
“You must attend to this matter, whether you want to or not. You dismissed all three of my brothers at the Lyon’s Den when they tried to approach you, but I will not allow you to shirk your duties. Be the honorable man that you are.”
Knowing exactly what to say to have him capitulate, her words slashed through him like knives.
“I will take care of this. Of him. The boy. And then that’s all. I will not have you back.”
The discreetly startled expression on her face spoke louder than words. She had come to him with weighty expectations. But he wouldn’t be swayed.
“I have to take care of matters here first. I’ll travel tomorrow—”
“You must come today. Now.”
He didn’t think it remotely possible that the boy was his, but even if there was a tiny chance of it, he had a responsibility to care for the child.
He swiveled around to address the sisters only to find they had disappeared.
“Where did they go?” he asked Damien who was now standing in their place.
Regretfully, he shook his head. When his eyes lifted to match Benedict’s, they were full of pity.
“They went inside.”
“I must talk to her—”
Damien’s firm palm rested on Benedict’s chest. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, old friend.”
He was placating him by reminding him of their friendship. That Damien was only stepping in for his own good.
“Give her time. Let’s go figure this out and then you can come back.”
“I have to tell her something. I can’t leave like this.”
“Leave her a note. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” His voice lowered even more.
With heavy shoulders but single-minded determination, he retraced the steps he had taken with Amelia back into the drawing room where they had been making wedding plans. Though, not really making plans.
He saw a quill and paper and wrote a short note telling her that he would be back to explain everything. And that he would still be her husband, if she would allow it. With the scarcity of servants, he left the note on the table and exited the house.
If only that note had been read, things might have turned out differently.