Chapter 29
“There, there, my love, don’t cry,” Papa soothed. “Here, a nice cup of tea will soothe your nerves.”
Madeline was not quite so convinced of the healing properties of tea, but she obediently accepted the cup anyway and took a long sip.
They were talking in her room, which had a small sofa and armchair set in front of the fire.
It was a far cry from the private parlor she had at Tristan’s home, but this did very much feel like her own. Or something like that, at any rate.
“I am glad that you came here, at any rate,” Papa added, settling down on the sofa beside her.
“Instead of rushing off to the country. Marriages are tricky things, and it often does us some good to sit down and puzzle it all out before we throw up our hands and give up. And you, my dear, are not the type that gives up. Nor was your Mama, ha ha. I recall once, shortly before we discovered that we were about to be blessed with a child, your mother throwing a teacup at my head and declaring that…”
“Mama threw a teacup at your head?” Madeline interrupted, amazed. “Mama?”
“Why yes, your Mama. We loved each other deeply, and always did, but sometimes we did not always like each other, especially in the early days.” Papa sighed nostalgically.
“We disagreed about something. Now, I cannot even remember what it was, but at the time it seemed like a huge thing indeed. She had terrible aim, of course. The cup went wide and shattered on the door, and we just burst into laughter. The anger was gone after that, of course. But I suppose if we were the kind of people who bore grudges and had to be right in all things, the argument might not have ended there.”
Madeline drew in a breath. “I had no idea that you and Mama ever argued.”
“Every married couple argues,” Papa explained kindly. “If you love somebody and spend time with them, moderate disagreements are almost inevitable. You and I have argued, have we not?”
“Yes, but…”
“There you are, you see. It is unavoidable that disagreements and misunderstandings will arise. What matters, however, is how we deal with them. Do you understand?”
Madeline swallowed thickly and nodded. “I think so, Papa. But truly, I mean it when I say I can no longer live with Tristan as his wife. There is too much he is keeping from me, and he… he loves another, Papa.”
Papa’s face tightened. “Then perhaps he is not worthy of you. But I find that difficult to believe, sweetheart. Tristan acts differently when he is around you. If I did not know better, I would swear that he was madly in love with you.”
Madeline sniffed. “I wish I could believe it, but no, Papa. No.”
At that moment, carriage wheels echoed on the pavement outside. Madeline thought nothing of it, as the street outside their house was a fairly busy one. Then, a knock echoed on the door, loud enough to make them jump.
“Who on earth is banging on my door with such anger?” Papa muttered peevishly, getting to his feet and placing his hands on his hips. “If it is a tradesman, I hope that the butler sends him away with a flea in his ear.”
There was a mild commotion downstairs, and Madeline rose to her feet too, frowning.
“Papa,” she said carefully, “that sounds a good deal like…”
There was no time to finish her sentence, because at that moment, running feet and an outraged cry echoed from below. A moment later, the door flew open.
Tristan stood there. He was red in the face, out of breath, and his hair was disheveled. There was a tear in the shoulder of his cloak, as though somebody had grabbed at the material as he ran by.
“Madeline,” he gasped, breathless. “I must speak with you.”
She pressed her lips together. “I have nothing to say to you, sir.”
“It’s rather urgent. Please, just a few moments of your time. There has been a terrible misunderstanding, but I have not told you the truth about something.”
“About the fact that you have kept your mistress during our marriage? Yes, you have not told me. I read the letter from her, the one you meant to destroy. I know that you kept her. You must love her, then?”
He shook his head. “No. I never did, Madeline, please believe me. Juliana is on her way to the Americas; you’ll read of her departure in the papers soon. She never loved me; she only wanted to stay my mistress to keep her status. That was what she wanted. She intended to blackmail me.”
Madeline frowned. “Blackmail you?”
Tristan hesitated, glancing over at Papa.
“I think you two had better speak alone,” Papa said after a moment of awkwardness. “I shall go and check on Adam. He is sleeping peacefully in the nursery with his nursemaid.”
He glanced at Madeline, lifting his eyebrows almost questioningly. Madeline knew that if she asked him to stay, he would.
She, however, found that she wanted to hear what Tristan had to say.
“Go on, Papa,” she said aloud. “We won’t be long.”
Papa nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
For a moment, silence landed heavily between them. Madeline stared at Tristan, and he stared bluntly back.
“How did you know where to find me?” she said at last. “I did not tell Dorothea where I was going.”
“It was a guess, I suppose,” he answered, shrugging.
“I did not want to believe that you’d fled so far away from me, so I thought I would come here first. The attitude of the butler at the door convinced me that you were at home and that they had been instructed to keep me out. I was right, as it turned out.”
Madeline lowered herself onto the sofa. She suddenly felt exhausted. Tristan made an abortive movement as if he meant to come and sit beside her, but checked himself at the last moment and sat on an armchair opposite.
“Juliana requested that I meet her because she intended to blackmail me,” he said at last. “I suspected that something like this would come, so I accepted her invitation. I do not know whether she would have carried through on the blackmail, but I was not cowed. She will leave the country; I know that. She has finally tired of me.”
“What did she want from you?”
He shrugged. “She wanted to remain my mistress. In name only, of course. It was my name and status she cared for, not me exactly. We were friends, I suppose, but there was no real love. She played a part, and so did I. We parted on decent terms, actually.”
“I’m sure I don’t wish her any ill will,” Madeline muttered. “But what is this blackmail business? What could she possibly have to hold over your head?”
He breathed in, momentarily closing his eyes.
“She learned it from my cousin, James,” he said at last. “James is now the only one who knows the truth. Except, of course, my mother and I.”
“Truth? What truth?”
“Firstly, Madeline, I should tell you that I have made my cousin leave London. He disapproves of our marriage, and everything he has done has been with the intention of forcing you and me apart. He is not your friend, my love.”
Madeline bit her lip, glancing away. “I see. Why does he not approve of our marriage? Does he not approve of me?”
“It is nothing personal. He didn’t want me to marry at all, because marriage means heirs. He is already horrified at Adam’s existence. My cousin, you see, has always believed that he was entitled to be the Duke of Tolford, not I.”
She snorted. “And why would he think that?”
Tristan winced. “Well, I suppose that in a way, he is right.”
“What?”
Tristan shifted, glancing around.
“Would you object if I locked the door? I would not like to be overheard.”
“As you like.”
He jumped up, crossed to the door, and turned the key in the lock with a decisive click. He hurried back to her, and this time he sat beside her on the sofa, reaching out to take her hand.
“Blood will out,” he quoted. “That was what James said. You have heard about my father’s infidelities, have you not? And of my mother’s struggle to produce an heir?”
“I have heard it, but of course Dorothea had you and Anthony in the end.”
Tristan swallowed hard, catching her gaze and holding it.
“No, my dear,” he whispered. “She did not.”
Madeline’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I shall start the story from the beginning. As I said, only James, Mother, and I know of this. James told Juliana as a bargaining chip, but I think she is clever enough to know that she should forget all about it. One of my father’s mistresses was a woman named Sarah Hamilton.
An actress. She had two children with my father.
Those two children were Anthony and me. I do not remember a thing about my mother, not really.
I do not think we were wanted. When my father grew tired of her and cut off his patronage, she left us at an orphanage and went on with her life.
At this point, she passes out of the story, and I believe she died some years later. ”
Madeline was sure she must have misheard. Was Tristan admitting to being born out of wedlock?
“But Dorothea adores you,” she whispered. “I don’t understand.”