Chapter 11 #7
He sighed. “The simple fact is that I felt no real tie to my daughter. She was the result of a reckless moment of passion which was over and forgotten in little more than an instant. Cassandra and I broke off our affair, and quite frankly, I was relieved to be free of her. I never saw Cassandra when she was expecting, because she withdrew from all social activities so that no one would see her in her indelicate state. Once Emmaline was born, I was glad to hear that the bairn appeared to be healthy and whole. Beyond that, I believed she would be well cared for by Cassandra and Vincent, and that she would have a happy, privileged life. I felt no claim on her, and had no desire to do anything that might give her cause to question who she was or to upset the life of grandeur and stability to which she had been born. I had drunkenly participated in her conception, but there was no question in my mind that Vincent was her father. By all accounts, he was absolutely devoted to her, and she to him.” He paused a moment before adding grimly, “Unfortunately, that became the problem.”
Genevieve drew her brows together. “Why?”
“Cassandra continued to indulge in affairs after Emmaline was born, but her choice of suitors narrowed somewhat. She was heavier than she had been prior to her pregnancy, and she had grown even more tempestuous and self-absorbed. Vincent had never been a terribly involved husband, so he let her carry on as she wished. His world was now centered on his business holdings and Emmaline. Cassandra began to drink and mourn the loss of her youth, and gradually she became jealous of her daughter’s exceptionally close relationship with Vincent.
There were some dreadful fights between her and Vincent.
And finally, during one drunken outburst, Cassandra shrieked at her husband that he was not Emmaline’s father, and that I was. ”
Genevieve regarded him in horror. “That must have been terrible for him to hear.”
“I imagine it was,” Haydon agreed curtly.
“But it didn’t warrant him rejecting Emmaline like some broken piece of furniture that no longer pleased him.
From that point on, he refused to have anything to do with her.
Oh, he kept her under his roof and paid for her clothes and made sure she had ample nurses and governesses to see to her upbringing.
After all, there were appearances to be maintained.
He couldn’t very well just toss her out onto the street.
But he made it clear that he no longer loved her.
” He paused for a moment before bitterly adding, “She was only five years old, for Christ’s sake.
How the hell was she supposed to understand? ”
Genevieve could sense the anger surging through him, mingled with despair. It was as if he wanted to leap from the bed and do battle with someone, anyone, in the faint hope that he might somehow be able to rectify what had gone so horribly wrong. She laid her hand soothingly against his chest.
After a long silence, he began to speak again, his voice rough against the dark stillness.
“For a long while, their secret was confined within the walls of their estate. I had stopped frequenting their parties and social affairs years earlier, so I had no idea that Vincent knew that I was Emmaline’s father.
But I started to hear stories that Vincent had grown increasingly engrossed in managing his investments, and that he and Cassandra were leading separate lives.
There was never any mention of Emmaline whatsoever.
This struck me as peculiar, because before then everyone had talked about how utterly devoted Vincent was to his daughter.
I didn’t ponder it overmuch, however. I was far too busy finding ways to run through my allowance before the end of each month, much to my brother’s irritation.
“Then Cassandra suddenly died. There was talk of her having been pregnant and trying to abort the child, but the official explanation was simply an undetermined illness.
I attended the funeral. I suppose I felt obligated to pay my respects because Cassandra and I had once been lovers, and while Vincent and I had never been what one might describe as friends, I had certainly been a guest in his home many times.
Beyond that, I was curious to see how Emmaline was faring.
I imagined that she must have mourned the loss of her mother, and I wanted to assure myself that she was going to be all right.
“The moment I laid eyes upon her, I knew that something was terribly wrong. She was a beautiful, slight little thing of eight, with pale-blonde hair and dark-blue eyes, just like her mother’s.
But while Cassandra had once been confident and sparkling with laughter, Emmaline was painfully nervous and quiet and awkward.
Of course, her mother had just died, so I scarcely expected her to be brimming with mirth.
But when Vincent snarled orders at her, telling her to sit in a corner and stay out of everyone’s way, his monumental resentment of her was obvious to everyone.
Worse, it was apparent that she was absolutely terrified of him.
And that was when I realized that he knew.
He knew, and he was punishing her for it.
As if she had had any bloody choice in the matter. ”
The thought of how Emmaline must have suffered pained Genevieve. “What did you do?”
He snorted in disgust. “I left the funeral and got blinding drunk for several weeks. I felt completely helpless, and drinking helped me to forget just how inadequate I was. I could hardly charge into Vincent’s home and demand that he turn my daughter, whom I’d never sought out in eight years, over to me.
Even if he had agreed, just what the hell did I have to offer her?
Everyone would have known that she was my bastard, which would have sentenced her to a life of being an outcast. My income at the time seemed barely enough to sustain my prodigal lifestyle.
I knew nothing whatsoever about caring for a child.
And so Emmaline was trapped. She was Vincent’s prisoner, for him to neglect or torment as he pleased, and I convinced myself that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. ”
Genevieve said nothing.
Haydon interpreted her silence as condemnation. He knew that had she been in his position, she would have done something to rescue Emmaline.
“During my drunken sojourn, my brother died. Poor Edward, who had never been ill a day in his life that I can remember, spent his usual long day at his desk, then rose and dropped like a stone to the floor. He hadn’t yet found the time to woo a woman and marry, therefore he had no heirs.
And so I was suddenly thrust into the role of marquess of Redmond, with all of the trappings and responsibilities that I had so contentedly left in the capable hands of my brother over the years.
I can tell you, it was an unpleasant shock to my relatives, who were convinced that I was going to squander everything that my father and Edward had worked so hard to build.
I have several cousins who informed me at the time that they believed themselves to be far better candidates for marquess than I.
“Now that I had money and a title, and was considerably more sober, I decided I could not leave Emmaline at the mercy of Vincent any longer. I went to him and offered to take her and raise her myself. But Vincent flatly refused. He said he had no intention of giving up the daughter everyone believed to be his. To do so would be to make a public declaration that he had been cuckolded and was now giving his wife’s bastard to her lover.
He told me that he had despised me and Emmaline for years, and that I would now have to live with the knowledge that she belonged to him, to do with as he pleased.
“I argued with him long and hard. I even offered him money in exchange for her. Vincent just laughed. He didn’t care about money.
All he cared about was exacting his revenge.
He wanted to punish me for bedding his wife and making a child that for five years he had believed to be his own.
He wanted to make me suffer with the idea that my daughter had been sentenced to a life of misery beneath his roof and that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Finally I realized that I was, indeed, helpless.
I had wealth and the status of my new title.
But I had no legal claim upon my own daughter.
There was no way for me to prove that she was actually mine by blood.
Deciding that I was only making things worse for her by provoking Vincent, I left. ”
“Did Emmaline know that you had been there?”
“As I stormed out of Vincent’s study, I caught a glimpse of her staring at me through the banister, crouched upon the stairs.
” His expression became tormented. “I’ll never forget how small and lost she looked.
She seemed so fragile, like a frightened little bird.
And I realized that she had heard. She knew that I was her father, but that Vincent owned her.
And that I was abandoning her. I wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right, even though I had little confidence that it would be.
But before I could say anything, Vincent came after me, waving his arms like a madman and ordering me out of his home.
Emmaline raced up the stairs and disappeared, terrified that Vincent might have seen her.
And I felt hopelessly, utterly helpless.
I convinced myself that anything I might have said or done at that moment would only cause Emmaline more suffering. So I left.”
He fell silent.
Genevieve continued to lie against him, saying nothing.