Chapter 16 #2
He glanced up at her, his expression resigned, even sad. She had never seen him look like a real person instead of an arrogant duke. She kept telling herself that he was a criminal, but she wanted to hear his reasons.
“Cecil didn’t want anyone to know how serious his illness was, how slowly he was recovering. He thought it made him look weak.”
“Then he should have just retired to the country where his London friends couldn’t see him.”
“You don’t know my brother,” he said heavily. “His vanity is everything to him. And he knew if he didn’t get away, he wouldn’t be able to resist being out among society.”
“It seems a weak reason for a successful man like you to leave his own life behind.”
He arched an eyebrow, but that slight amusement was gone. Was it only the duke’s?
“So you know about me?” he asked.
“I know a bit, especially after I became suspicious and made some discreet inquiries.”
“Discreet? I would not call our conversation about me this afternoon as discreet.”
“Well, no, but…you were provoking me.”
“And you were trying to distract me.”
He looked down her body again, and she wished for the layers of clothing to protect her.
“Did it work?” she asked, feeling a little breathless and hating herself for it.
“A little.”
“But I’m not distracted, Mr. O’Neill. Why would you go along with such an insane request from your brother? Especially when he was the one who pretended to be you when you were children, not vice versa.”
He smiled and shook his head. Even his smile seemed different to her, more guarded.
“You have sisters, Meriel. What wouldn’t you do for them?”
She felt a chill of recognition. She and her sisters had made a pact to hide the truth of their father’s suicide.
“It’s a fine line to cross when your family is asking for help,” he continued. “Cecil…Cecil is my brother. He wanted me to remain a part of his family, even when our father kept himself distant, even when our mothers objected. That portrait you looked at?”
There was a note of bitterness in his voice now.
“Cecil wanted the two of us together in it, and his mother refused. He said because we looked alike, it would be ours to share, our secret. I know that he’s become a foolish man, who does thoughtless, stupid things, considers no one but himself.
But when he was a little boy, he still wanted to include me, and didn’t want me to be hurt.
When he asked for this favor, I couldn’t refuse him. ”
She didn’t want to empathize with him. She had been so blessed to have two sisters she adored, whom she could count on for anything.
But she had no idea if a man who could pretend to be another so easily was capable of spinning an even greater web of lies. He seemed truthful about his relationship to the duke. But…
“Mr. O’Neill, I would find it easier to believe you if it weren’t so obvious that you like being the duke.”
His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, but she still wasn’t afraid.
“Meriel, you’ll never know how hard it was to become something that I despise. My father wasn’t a nice man, and I fear that Cecil is becoming more and more like him every day. You aren’t as knowledgeable as you think, if you imagine that a man raised as I was could enjoy this way of life.”
“I think you protest too easily,” she said, giving her voice a coolness she didn’t necessarily feel.
Then she used the lie she’d prepared to protect herself in case this situation ever happened.
“I’ve already spoken to Mrs. Theobald about my suspicions, since I don’t trust you.
If I don’t appear tomorrow, she’ll know what happened. ”
He started to laugh, and even his laughter was deeper, harder, different. He sank into a chair and crossed his legs before her. The edge of the towel slid down one thigh, but she didn’t dare look away.
“She already knows everything,” he said.
Meriel just stared at him, knowing that he’d given her a way to judge the truth. Or the truth he wanted her to know.
“I couldn’t hide from her—Hargraves either,” Mr. O’Neill said. “I’ll make sure to tell her she can speak freely with you. But if you risk my position here, risk Cecil’s reputation, risk Stephen’s heart—”
“You’ll what, Mr. O’Neill? Kill me?”
“That is an ugly thing to say to a man doing a favor for his brother.”
“You’re living your brother’s life—I’m supposed to trust that you’re doing him a favor?”
“Meriel,” he said, his voice full of warning.
“And did you just dare to talk to me about risking Stephen’s heart? You, who’ve led him to believe that his father has grown to love him?”
For the first time, he looked away. “Cecil loves him. He just never learned how to show it.”
“But you did, and you were raised together.”
“But raised very differently, Meriel. If you lived in a peer’s household, you’d know that.”
“Your excuse is a poor one, Your Grace,” she said with sarcasm. “That boy’s disappointment will be a terrible thing.”
He leaned his head back in the chair, looking exhausted again. “That is what I most worry about. But I can’t change it now.”
“Then be more like his real father! And find the duke, for heaven’s sake. End this!”
“I can’t, to any of your requests. I owe Cecil. And I need to be with Stephen, the nephew I never was able to know.”
“Because the duke kept you apart.”
He didn’t answer.
“And you claim you’re doing all this on that man’s whim? I can only hope you hurt fewer people than you think you will.”
She walked toward the door to the private staircase.
“Meriel, you can’t talk about this with anyone other than Mrs. Theobald and Hargraves. Promise me.”
Of all the nerve! She would make her own decision about going to the police, but she wasn’t going to discuss that with him. She stalked back and stood over him in anger. “Then you promise me you’ll stop this attempt at seduction.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I have to be Cecil, and he chooses a mistress every month. He’s a fool, but I can’t change him now.”
“Then pick someone else!” she cried.
He came to his feet, and suddenly there was too much bare skin before her, drawing her gaze.
“Meriel,” he murmured, “you’re the only one I can trust to resist me.”
She tossed her head and scoffed. “You think you’re that irresistible?”
He pointed to the double doors. “To those women I am. They expect to be in my bed, and I could never—”
He broke off, and she wondered what emotion he didn’t want her to see.
“You’re developing scruples now?” she asked bitterly.
“I’ll do some things for my brother, but not that. So expect to be pursued, Meriel, and you do your best to resist me.”
She was outraged now. “You sound like you think I won’t be able to!”
He came closer and she stood her ground, expecting to feel repulsed now that she knew the truth—or some of the truth.
But her anger was threatened with a sinful feeling of desire that licked at her insides like a small flame, threatening to turn into an inferno.
She’d felt this since she’d first met him, the Imposter Duke, a man whose very body called to hers.
But she wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t let him know that he had any kind of control over her.
His head was above hers, his chest so very near that if she inhaled too deeply, her breasts would touch him.
“Resist me, Meriel,” he said softly.
His breath disturbed the curls near her forehead; his eyes looked deep into hers.
Again, he said, “Resist me, Meriel, because God help me, I don’t want to resist what you make me feel.”
She put her hand on his chest to push the threat of him away, but her palm felt scalded, and her will was suddenly not her own. Her logic had flown, and she was swamped by reckless emotion, a woman who’d spent her life fighting this loss of control.
His hand cupped her face, and he leaned into her. She remembered the sinfully wonderful touch and taste of his mouth. Every kiss she’d ever experienced seemed like a childish peck on the cheek compared to the hot, overwhelming way he made her feel.
And he was admitting that he shared her emotions.
Or was he just trying to control her, to keep her from revealing his secret?
She pushed hard and stumbled back just before their lips met. “Your seduction won’t work. I know who you are. You’re a liar, and I’ll never trust the word of a liar again.”
She turned her back and ran up the stairs to the nursery, barely remembering to lighten her step as she walked down the corridor past Stephen’s room.
When she was in her own room, she collapsed on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest, desperate to find a way to ease the ache that never went away inside her.
That man knew her weakness for him, and he would try to find a way to exploit it. He was already exploiting her fondness for Stephen, trusting that she wouldn’t want to hurt the child any more than necessary.
But Stephen would find out eventually. If Meriel went to the police now, she could end his suffering before it grew worse.
But she was still stuck in the same frozen position—no proof, no means to prove her case.
All she could do was talk to Mrs. Theobald and gauge her opinion.
If the housekeeper was being forced to keep quiet, if the woman’s instincts also said this was a dangerous situation, then together they could go to the police.
Meriel didn’t trust anything Richard O’Neill said. He was a man who would use his body to convince her to keep silent. That kind of man could be up to anything.