Chapter 13 #2
Lizzie did not hesitate. “One day you will be a very powerful man,” she said. “But right now, I am your mother and you will do as I say. When we reach our hallway, you may walk, but not until then.”
Ned scowled at her, clearly furious. Then he turned the same scowl on his uncle, as if to say, this is entirely your fault!
Rex’s mouth twitched. It was as if he wanted to smile but refused to do so. “Miss Fitzgerald?”
Lizzie hurried past him and, limping, he followed.
Tyrell had been summoned to the library and he closed the doors behind him.
His father was standing in front of the hearth, leaning on the gray limestone mantel.
The library was a large room with two walls of bookcases entirely filled with tomes, one sofa in front of the fireplace, another providing a second smaller seating area on the opposite wall.
Several French doors opened out onto the slate terrace and gardens.
The earl was clearly lost in thought, Tyrell saw, and as clearly, he was brooding.
Tyrell approached. He was certain as to the nature of this interview and he was already feeling guilty and dismayed for his behavior that afternoon.
He was aware of the reason he must not alienate Harrington or his daughter.
And recalling the lust he had not been able to control that afternoon, he knew, with all of his intelligence, that he should send Elizabeth Fitzgerald on her way.
Not only was he on the verge of wedlock to Lady Blanche, but she was in residence.
There was no one he respected more than his father, and he certainly respected Harrington and his daughter, but his behavior this afternoon seemed to indicate no respect for anyone at all, and certainly not for the traditions in which he had been raised.
He had always considered himself a gentleman—a man of honor, loyalty, nobility and moral conviction. He had suffered a serious moral breach.
Elizabeth Fitzgerald had a very powerful effect upon him, one he did not care for.
Even now, several hours after being in her bed, he was having trouble thinking about anything other than the consummation he was due.
He was having trouble thinking about anything other than her, as if he were some pimply boy in the throes of puppy love.
But he was no green boy. There was no rationale and no justification for his behavior.
What had he been thinking?
The earl of Adare faced him, cutting into his thoughts. “Lord Harrington has asked me about Miss Fitzgerald.”
Tyrell tensed. He was well aware that in any home, even one the size of Adare, gossip ran rampant.
Undoubtedly the moment he had accepted Elizabeth’s child as his son, the news had traveled through the mansion like a wildfire in a forest. Some servant had eavesdropped, or the nursemaid had gossiped with a housemaid.
It hardly mattered. No such secret could be kept for very long.
“Do you wish for me to reassure him that my illegitimate son will not affect my duties to his daughter?” He was not about to let anyone, especially his father, guess at his moral dilemma.
“I have already told him that.” The earl studied Tyrell very closely.
“He admires you immensely, Tyrell, with good cause, and as it turns out, he is not worried about your illegitimate child. After all, practically everyone we know has one or two bastards. But he is not particularly pleased that we have installed Miss Fitzgerald here at the house.”
“Didn’t you tell him that I thought it best not to separate my son from his mother?
” Tyrell wondered how long that pitiful excuse would hold up.
In these circumstances, a noble family would often take in the illegitimate offspring, leaving the natural mother behind but considerably better off.
Had Ned truly been his son and his mother not been Elizabeth Fitzgerald but some ex-mistress, that is exactly what he would have done.
“I did. He was argumentative, and he is right. He feels her presence here could be insulting to his daughter. I happen to concur.”
Tyrell tensed. Images of that afternoon swept over him, so vivid that he could actually taste her lips and feel her soft, full breasts beneath his hands.
The gentleman in him agreed with both his father and his future father-in-law, but he had a darker side, one Elizabeth Fitzgerald had aroused.
For he did not plan to send her away; he was consumed with selfish intent.
Surely there was a position of compromise?
Very few men of his rank and position did not have mistresses, although his father was an exception to the rule. And while he had always admired his father for his loyalty to the countess, it was becoming painfully clear that such loyalty would not exist in his marriage.
“Father, my mind is made up. I will happily speak with Lord Harrington. I have no doubt I can ease any worries he may have. My intention is not to insult my fiancée. My intention is to do what is best for my son.”
“I already suggested to him that this situation is a temporary one. I told him that once Ned becomes adjusted to his new life, you will send Miss Fitzgerald home.”
“Thank you,” Tyrell said. That would certainly placate Blanche’s father for the moment.
“You are a grown man, Tyrell, and you have been so for more than a decade. I know you are capable of making your own decisions—and your own mistakes. I think we both know that this is a mistake. Miss Fitzgerald is not in the best interest of Adare.”
Tyrell stiffened, for he suspected the earl was right. “She hardly affects Adare in any way,” he said in such a manner that he warned his father to leave the subject alone. “I have no intention of abandoning my duty.”
“I know you would never fail me or Adare.” The earl paused. “Are you in love with her?”
Tyrell started. “Of course not.”
The earl approached. A moment passed before he spoke. “Tyrell, I simply fail to understand the breach of etiquette on your part.”
Tyrell knew his father was not referring to his wish to keep Miss Fitzgerald at Adare for the week and certainly not to his desire to keep her as a mistress.
He admired his father immensely and there was no one he respected more.
For the first time in his life he had lied to his father by claiming that the boy was his—all for the sake of a woman he wanted in his bed.
He would not elaborate upon that lie and he would not make up another one. He simply could not do so.
“Please do not ask me to explain,” he said grimly. “There is no possible explanation I can make for taking advantage of Miss Fitzgerald. I am very sorry, Father. I am sorry I have disappointed you.”
The earl’s brows lifted. “How odd. She claims the affair was entirely her fault and that she seduced you.”
He was so startled that he almost gaped. Why would Elizabeth make such a claim?
“Why would she try to protect you?” the earl asked softly.
She could not possibly mean to defend him, he thought. This had to be some new trick on her part. But he could not fathom what ambition would cause her to play it. “I don’t know. The fault was mine—entirely.”
“I still fail to understand. I know you too well. I don’t care if she was in a disguise, you would never touch an innocent young lady!” he exclaimed.
Tyrell paced away from his father. “Again, I have no excuse to make,” he finally said.
But the earl followed him. “I shall pretend, just for a moment, to believe you. You met a young woman in a mask at the ball and lost all reason and all control. Tyrell, you are hardly naive. Didn’t you seek her out to make amends the next day?
Come, Tyrell, surely you realized how grave your error was. ”
Tyrell knew his father referred to his supposed seduction of a virgin. He flushed. “Can we not leave this sordid subject alone? Apparently I am not infallible.”
The earl shook his head. “If she were beautiful, like your French mistress or that Russian widow, I would understand. Instead, I see a reticent, rather plain and somewhat plump young woman, one who still appears entirely innocent. She is hardly a seductress. I doubt she has a calculating bone in her entire body. Yet she inflamed you beyond all reason?”
Tyrell said nothing, distinctly uncomfortable now. He hated this lie with all of his being. “Have you never been undone by a woman?” he heard himself ask. The moment he did so, he regretted it, for it was a confession of his feelings, and he knew what his father’s answer would be.
“Yes, I have. By your stepmother, the countess. I fell in love with her shortly after meeting her, many years before your mother died and her husband was murdered. I may have even fallen in love with her at first sight.” His smile was grim.
“But circumstance prevented me from losing all reason and all control.”
“Then you are a far better man than me,” Tyrell said. He turned to go.
The earl seized his shoulder, forestalling him. “I do not like this, Tyrell.”
Tyrell turned and met his gaze, shrugging him off. “You worry needlessly.”
“Do you intend to renew your relationship with her?” the earl asked bluntly.
Tyrell’s smile vanished.
The earl’s jaw hardened. “I already know the answer, having seen you with her this afternoon. I cannot change your mind—that much is clear—but I also cannot accept your mistress under my roof. Not under the current circumstances.”
Tyrell suddenly felt trapped, by his father, by Harrington and even the future that awaited him.
“She and the boy will accompany me to Dublin next week,” he stated.
“Have no fear, I will not sate my lust under your roof, Father. If you do not mind, I have some affairs to attend to.” He inclined his head, awaiting permission to leave.
The earl looked explosive. “And do you think that somehow Harrington will not hear that bit of news!”