Chapter Two #3
Glancing at him now, his thick head of dark hair was nearly touching the roof, and she took in the well-tailored navy coat he wore over a refined silk waistcoat, which clung sinfully to his broad chest. Light-coloured breeches were stretched over his long legs and sturdy black boots reached up to his knees.
He was well put together, the epitome of control.
The word handsome didn’t do him justice.
She had wondered if time might have faded the cobalt colour of his eyes, but they were an even more vivid blue than she remembered.
He had the confidence she imagined all wealthy men possessed.
As if he was used to snapping his fingers and getting whatever he wanted.
Whatever work he now did at his mill, she would bet it didn’t involve rolling up his shirtsleeves.
His life must be effortless compared to hers and burning resentment had a newfound determination to fight for her boy’s future solidifying in her stomach.
‘Do you want him?’ Edward said, offering to pass Thomas to her again, but she shook her head, pressing her body against the seat. She couldn’t take him back, her resolve would crumble.
Bea clasped her hands tightly together in her lap.
Glancing around her, she realised the interior of the carriage was far grander than any place she had ever stepped inside.
She had never seen such exquisite leather and polished wood.
She didn’t know where to look or what to say to the formidable man sitting opposite her.
Yes, she and Edward had enjoyed one night of pleasure in each other’s arms, but they didn’t know each other. Not really.
‘I am curious to know why it has taken you all this time, over a year in fact, to find me, to tell me about this.’
She knew he must think the worst of her, and that he was still struggling to believe her.
‘I didn’t know how to find you. You didn’t exactly leave a note, did you?
’ When you walked out without even saying goodbye.
She wanted to demand answers—to know why he left without waking her, but her pride kept her silent.
Besides, none of that mattered now. ‘I didn’t even possess the knowledge of your full name. ’
‘And yet you lay with me anyway,’ he said wryly.
Her cheeks flamed. He made it sound as if she was some kind of loose woman—as if it was all her doing.
She’d let him caress her body in places that had never before been explored and which had come alive for the very first time.
Her eagerness, the way she’d encouraged him to touch her, now made her wince.
Yet this wasn’t just on her, but him too, and her simmering anger raged harder than her shame.
He was the one who had promised to be careful.
He was the one who had left her and let her down.
In the months that had passed, she had often wondered what she’d been thinking that night, naively saying yes when this charming man had asked her to have a picnic on the rug with him.
Who was that girl who had smiled shyly as she’d shared his brandy, sipping from his glass demurely—who’d laughed at his jests and been so reckless?
But seeing him again now, she understood why she had behaved so irresponsibly, because disturbingly, as her eyes locked with his across the small, cloying space, she realised he was causing the same instinctive reaction—the same heating of her blood and hammering of her heart.
When his hand had curved around her elbow out on the street, his bare skin touching hers, her bones had turned to water.
Suddenly, she wished she’d tidied her hair or at least washed her face.
She was excruciatingly aware of the mud that caked the hem of her gown.
She felt exposed—vulnerable. Yet perhaps this was a normal reaction to seeing the man who had taken your virtue, who had given you a taste of sexual satisfaction and planted a seed in your body, creating the most beautiful baby boy.
Just thinking back on it, she felt hot in the confined carriage. Light-headed. It didn’t help that her stomach was growling with hunger and her temples were thumping with tension.
She had thought Edward wouldn’t recognise her, after all, she must have been just one in a long line of women he took to bed. Yet he had. He remembered her name. A ridiculous, unwanted feeling of delight soared through her at that, though she instantly attempted to crush it.
‘I tried to track you down.’ When the sickness had started and her stomach had begun to swell.
But despite all they had discussed, he had never mentioned a house.
An address. ‘I went to every mill I could think of, wondering if you had gone ahead with your plans and bought it. Finally, I stumbled upon an Edward Harrington, owner of Frankton Mill. Son of a duke. You never told me…’
She had been stunned when she’d found out who he truly was. She had known he had wealth and land, but she had never realised his father had such a title. He was practically royalty!
He shrugged one broad shoulder. ‘I do not go about telling people in inns I have ducal blood flowing through my veins.’
‘Especially not the women you sleep with?’
His lips twisted. ‘Especially not those. For this very reason.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Because they would try to bleed me for all the coin I have.’
She felt her mouth clamp shut in shock, winded by his cynical accusation. With sudden, sickening realisation, she knew this was what her mother must have endured before her demise. She couldn’t believe she had allowed history to repeat itself…
Bea had hoped Edward would not be like her mother’s lover; her faceless, heartless father.
He too had been a man of status and great wealth, but he had denied and dismissed her mother’s claims of being with child, abandoning her before Bea had even been born.
She had prayed Edward would have more honour than that, but now she wasn’t sure.
Bile and apprehension rose in her throat.
‘Why should I believe this boy is mine?’ he continued.
‘He has your looks, your nose!’ she said. ‘You must see the resemblance!’
Did he really think she would have the gall to try to pass off another man’s child as his own?
But she had to remind herself they didn’t know one another.
That he had great wealth, power and influence.
He was most likely still trying to come to terms with her announcement that he was a father.
He must be in shock. She had been, when she’d realised the predicament she was in.
She had known instantly who the father was, as she’d only ever slept with one man.
This seemingly cold but devastatingly attractive man sitting in front of her now.
She had wondered if she could somehow get in contact with him, but when she’d discovered he was the son of a duke, everything had changed.
‘When I realised who you were, when I learned of your parentage, I decided to stay away. I determined to keep the details of Thomas’s father to myself. For your sake and mine.’
He raised a single dark eyebrow. ‘You expect me to believe you held this from me, to protect me?’ Edward said darkly.
‘It’s true!’
She saw a muscle flicker in his cheek; his scowl deepen.
‘I thought that it would be frowned upon for you to have been involved with someone like me,’ she said, her cheeks heating again, unable to get the images of that night they’d spent together out of her mind—not now she was seated close to him again.
Their mouths clinging, his sweat-streaked muscular body pressed intimately against hers, her legs wrapped around his thighs as he rocked deeper inside her.
She bit down on her lip. How could she still imagine his touch, even now?
How could she still remember what he looked like beneath that shirt and those breeches, when she was in such turmoil?
‘I feared getting caught up in the controversy this situation would ignite. Especially after everything you told me about your father. His expectations.’
She also feared if she told him, it would open herself up to more hurt—that Edward would seek to manipulate her, perhaps force her into marrying another man or send her away. She had so wanted to retain control of her life and keep her baby, but she had tried and failed.
She had talked herself out of getting in touch with Edward.
Her mother had taught her not to rely on anyone.
Never to trust a man. She was fiercely independent and thought she might be stronger on her own.
She convinced herself that being illegitimate, Thomas would have no claim to Edward’s titles or inheritance anyway—it wasn’t as if Edward was under any obligation to acknowledge or support them. He still wasn’t…
She wrung her hands in her lap.
‘I had many a restless night’s sleep these past months thinking about it, questioning if I was being selfish by keeping Thomas from you—whether it was right to deny you both this knowledge.
’ She had wondered if she was preventing Thomas from living a life of luxury and education that she could not provide.
If she handed him over to his father, he would want for nothing, apart from perhaps love.
But she’d always come back to the belief that no one would care for Thomas like she did, and it was for that reason—her boundless love for him—that had kept her quiet until now.
‘I decided it would be best to stay silent and save us both from any kind of scandal.’
‘How considerate of you and yet, you must have changed your mind, because here you are now. Why is that, Bea?’ His eyes were full of disdain.
He looked as if he truly despised her, and if not, he would, when she told him what had become of her.
She loathed herself because she had been brought to ruin.