Chapter 27
The air in the bedchamber felt too thick to breathe. Emeline watched Hart, waiting until he finally broke the seal and unfolded the letter. It was a single page, covered with more of his mother’s writing.
“I’m not at all certain I want to read this.” He looked down at her, and she saw the conflict in his eyes. “Can’t we go back to London and forget all about Woodcroft Priory?”
“I don’t think so.”
Mrs. Peachey spoke up. “Lord Jasper, I know you. There’s no need to fear this. Deep inside, you have craved this knowledge.”
“I am not afraid.” With that, he sat down on the edge of the duchess’s bed and Emeline perched next to him.
Together they read the letter. There was a passage professing her love for him, explaining that she could not reveal the truth until he was old enough, strong enough to deal with it.
It was better too, that his father was already dead, for she feared her wild son might kill the duke if he knew what he had done. Finally, came the heart of the letter:
It was an ordeal, giving birth to twins, but I knew in my heart from the first that you were the first born.
Your papa suggested we not speak of this to you and Austell until you were older, so that you could enjoy being little boys.
I believe now that Richard wanted to wait so that he could choose an heir who was more biddable and acquiescent to his wishes.
You, my darling Jasper, were never biddable.
You always questioned rules and craved adventure.
The day of your fifth birthday, when Richard announced that Austell would be the next Duke of Caversham, I was aghast!
We had quarreled about it once before, but I believed that when the time came, he would do the right thing.
And when I confronted him, he claimed that I had been out of my mind during the terrible birth, that I almost died, and thus only he knew which baby had been born first.
The old midwife was dead. I searched for Julie Lamb, Austell’s and your nurse who was also at your birth, but she had left the county.
When your father learned of my inquiries, he found ways to punish me…
and you as well, constantly disparaging you, reminding you that Austell would be the duke and you would have nothing.
All I could do was make a plan for your future, to ensure that you would have property and means of your own.
Thank God for dear Mrs. Peachey. When you went up to Oxford, I couldn’t bear to live at the castle another day, and so I returned here to be with my parents at the priory. She agreed to carry out my wishes, to look after you as I could not.
I love you and Austell equally, but I cannot help having a special, protective love for you, my darling. You were cheated out of your dukedom by your scheming, manipulative father. He chose Austell because he could manage him in a way you would never have allowed.
Now that you know the truth, I pray that it will be salve for the confusion and wounds you suffered, especially during your childhood. With my dearest love, Mama
Emeline glanced over and saw that Hart had closed his eyes, the letter lying slack against his leg. She touched his hand and murmured, “Perhaps this helps you to reconcile some of your feelings?”
He swiveled to look at her. His blue eyes were stormy.
“You have a happy family. People who love one another and showed you love your entire life. You cannot imagine what it feels like to be trapped in this sort of madness. All I want to do is forget about it, put it away, move on. The last thing I want is to be sitting here in this airless room, receiving yet another visit from my suffocating mother.” A muscle moved in his jaw.
“Only Mama could find a way to torment me this way a full decade after her death.”
Mrs. Peachey had been waiting near the door, and now she approached Hart. “My lord, may I be frank?”
“You will do so in any case,” he said, with a dismissive movement of his hand.
“Speaking thus about your departed mother may give you some relief in this moment, but the time will come when you regret it. The dowager duchess was not a perfect person, but who among us is? If she was a bit mad, perhaps she suffered in the same way you did.”
“There is no proof of anything that she says except for her very questionable word,” Hart snapped.
“What I will allow is that Mama obviously pitied me once Austell had been anointed and I was shunted aside. No doubt she wrote this letter to console me, but I don’t need her pity any more than these jewels. ”
“I believe I do have proof, Lord Jasper.”
“I’ve heard enough for one day.” He glared at her, clearly wishing he’d never entered this room. “Emeline and I are hungry.”
Peachey pretended not to hear him. “The nurse who was present at your birth, Julie Lamb, was pensioned off by your father, the duke, when you were two years old. He provided a cottage and gave her ￡20,000 to remain silent for the rest of her life.”
“￡20,000?” Hart scoffed. “Is this some sort of fairy story?”
“Not a bit, my lord.” Peachey gave him one of the quelling looks that made him feel twelve years old again.
“Julie and I were friends, growing up in the nearby village of Boyton. Our parents worked here at the priory, and when your mother married the duke, she was comforted to have familiar faces come with her in her new life.” She paused to let this sink in.
“Caversham Castle is far away in Gloucestershire, but Julie returned to Boyton, to live in the cottage the duke gave her.” Another pause. “I could take you to her.”
“Absolutely not,” he said flatly. “I would rather be stoned by a mob.”
Emeline intervened. “Mrs. Peachey, you have given his lordship a great deal to think about. Perhaps it would be best if he and I take our luncheon in his rooms, where we can talk.”
Hart rose to his feet and gave an absent nod. It felt to Emeline as if he stood alone on one side of a wide gulf and she was on the other…along with the rest of the world.
None of Emeline’s daydreams about her first visit to Hart’s rooms at the priory were like this.
She had imagined a romantic setting, perhaps the two of them stealing away after a long day of excavating.
Sharing a sensuous bath…a glass of wine…
and at last being together in Hart’s bed, with no further impediments to their love.
Instead, the grimly handsome man who sat across from her could have been a stranger.
Or even Satan himself, with his brilliant eyes and silvery hair glinting in the occasional shaft of sunlight.
William had delivered their luncheon tray, watching his master out of the corner of one eye.
Once the small table near the window had been set for them, the manservant disappeared and Emeline was alone with Hart and his invisible armor.
They ate in silence for several minutes. There was lamb, roasted carrots, spinach soufflé, and fresh buttery rolls, but Emeline couldn’t taste any of it. Hart drank two glasses of crimson wine, ate everything on his plate, and set down his napkin.
“You should reconsider your decision to marry me,” he said. “We both ought to reconsider. I was a fool to think I might be capable—”
Abruptly overcome with frustration, she stood. “I won’t have this.”
His mask slipped for a brief moment. “What?”
“I understand that you have been hurt by the very people who should have taught you how to love. But you are grown now, and I am here with you! You may tell me as many times as you like that you don’t want to be loved, but it is too late. I already love you and I’m not going to stop.”
“I’ve made a mistake,” he persisted, pushing back from the table and rising to his feet.
“Yes! You made a mistake when you said you began to reconsider letting me in to your life. No, not letting, welcoming! If you think you can go hot and cold with me from one day to the next, you are mistaken indeed.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Get out, now, while you still can. Before you grow to despise me the way my own parents despised one another.” He raked long fingers through his hair in a gesture of despair. “My God, can’t you see—it’s bloody inevitable.”
Emeline heard the throb of pain in his voice, and that was all the confirmation she needed.
Crossing to stand in front of him, she began to unfasten the delicate pearl buttons that marched down her bodice.
Her fingers were shaking slightly but it didn’t matter.
Let him see! She was finished with hiding her true feelings.
“What the deuce are you doing?” he demanded as she drew off the sleeves and let the gown fall to her waist.
“Surely a man with as much experience as you, my lord, must know what it means when a woman begins to undress in front of you.” As she felt the long-suppressed tide of desire rise within her, the tops of her breasts swelled above the simple corset, and her nipples tingled with need.
“I am going to make love to you. Perhaps that is the only language you can understand at this moment?”
“Emeline.” His voice was a low growl. A warning, even as his gaze singed her breasts.
She pulled the pins from her mass of ebony hair, and it fell around her shoulders. “Touch me.”
Hart couldn’t take his eyes off her, but he stepped back. Emeline stepped closer. “I want you,” she breathed. “Desperately.”
He stood rooted to the spot but turned his face away as she began to unfasten his woolen shirt.
When she had opened it to expose his broad, lean-muscled chest, she gave a little sigh and pressed her mouth to his heart, then moved slightly to brush her lips against one taut male nipple.
The scent of him, mingling in crisp chest hair, was one more aphrodisiac.
“Mad.” He shook his head again, but his voice faltered. “Save yourself, my darling, before it’s too late.”