The Lord's Inconvenient Vow (The Sinful Sinclairs Book 3)

by Lara Temple

  ‘I’m so tired, Rafe.’

  ‘I can see. I meant well, Edge. Everything you said about me is right. I never should have interfered.’

  Edge shook his head.

  ‘I wouldn’t change it. It’s not enough, but it might have to be. I just need to...accept that and hope that with time her affections will grow. It was only... I didn’t know she had been in love with someone else so much that she gave up hope of loving anyone else. I don’t know why that hurt even worse than thinking of her with her husband. I’m trying to be sensible, but I can’t and it’s killing me.’

  ‘Why don’t you talk to her?’

  Edge shoved his hands deeper into his hair. He wanted to be with Sam.

  ‘And tell her what? Dear Sam, I have been in love with you from the moment you fell on top of me eight years ago and wasn’t brave enough to admit it and spare either myself or my poor spoilt wife from an unhappy marriage that suited neither of us. I wove you into my life through those damn books because I couldn’t have you and the moment I saw you again I wanted you so badly I thought I was hallucinating when you proposed marriage.’

  ‘That will do to begin with. Don’t forget to mention you are a coward. That might clarify some things to her.’

  ‘God knows why I never strangled you, Rafe.’

  ‘Because you love me, little brother. You’re the only one who does.’ He yawned and put down the book. ‘I’m exhausted. God knows I have enough troubles of my own at the moment. What a mess we’ve both made. Go sleep. We’ll need our strength to face Mother tomorrow.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isis raised her Ankh high above Gabriel’s head, catching the sun in its eye. ‘With tears, anger and love I wove Osiris’s body together. But what is resurrected will never be what was—what is lost remains lost.’

  —Captives of the Hidden City,

  Desert Boy Book Four

  Sam stared at the door to the drawing room. She could hear voices insides, but not the words. Edge’s deep voice—calm. And a woman’s voice—calmer. Her mama-in-law.

  Her hands fisted. Edge had not come to tell her. He’d left it to Tubbs to inform her.

  She didn’t want to go in. She didn’t want the first time she saw Edge after his anger to be like this. She took a deep breath and entered none the less. Edge might be angry at her, but he would need her now, whether he admitted it or not. She would show him precisely how proper and patient she could be.

  The woman in a dove-grey dress seated on the sofa looked very much like her sons—the same high cheekbones, thin lips and cold eyes. The archetypal Duchess.

  Edge rose to his feet, his face even more than usually expressionless. He looked like a bored stranger accompanying his mother on a morning call.

  ‘Mother, may I introduce Lady Edward, my wife.’

  Sam had an absurd urge to curtsy. Instead she murmured a polite greeting and turned to Edge.

  ‘How is your brother this morning?’

  ‘A little feverish, but better, thank you. I will see if he is ready for you to visit with him, Mother.’

  Sam quelled the urge to grab at his sleeve as he passed. That or pick up the porcelain figure of a sphinx on the table and hurl it at him. Instead she tightened her jaw into a smile and wondered what did one say to one’s mother-in-law when she was regarding you like something a rag shop wouldn’t deign to sell?

  ‘I am happy to finally make your acquaintance, Your Grace. You must be delighted to have your sons back in England.’

  ‘Naturally. I would have preferred it to happen under less...irregular circumstances.’

  ‘I see. I presume by irregular you mean our marriage? Would you care for some tea, Your Grace?’

  ‘No, I thank you. I was referring to that, yes. Naturally I would have hoped Edge would respect the family name by marrying at the Greybourne chapel as he did with poor, dear Dora.’

  Poor, dear Dora. Flame mixed with ice in a viscous dance inside Sam’s chest. She pressed her hands to her thighs and noticed they were damp and shaking.

  ‘We felt it best to marry in Cairo at the embassy. It was perfectly respectable, I assure you. My brother was married there.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Your brother. Lord Sinclair or the other one?’

  ‘The other one.’

  ‘Nevertheless. Such a hasty marriage and then that nonsensical gossip that Edward might have written those books. Naturally I denied it, but thanks to rumours surrounding the marriage it fell on fertile ground.’

  ‘Denied it?’

  ‘Of course. Greybournes do not pen novels.’

  Sam’s jaw was beginning to ache. She drew ‘patience’ in big block letters in her mind.

  ‘Did you not ask Edge about it?’

  ‘Naturally not. Edward might have had his moments of weakness after the boy’s death and I will always regret that he chose to leave rather than follow dear Dora to Bath and attempt a reconciliation, but he would never stoop so low as to sully the Greybourne name by penning pamphlets.’

  Patience be damned.

  ‘They are not pamphlets. They are novels and they are brilliant! Why, even your own friend—what was her name? Lady Buckston or Munchinson or something?—adores them. You should be bursting with pride Edge has created something so marvellous, so unique...’

  ‘My dear... Lady Edward. You obviously belong to a younger, looser crowd than Edward is used to associating with, but I assure you—’

  ‘Edge.’ Sam bit out the word. ‘He might have resented it when I forced that name on him as a child, but I do know he hates being called Edward. I don’t even call him Edward when I wish to annoy him, which is often.’

  ‘Nonsense. The Dukes of Greybourne have named their sons Rafael and Edward for the past two hundred years.’

  ‘Edge didn’t. He named his son after Poppy, your brother. Jacob Phillip after Phillip Jacob Carmichael. Not an Edward or a Rafael in the list. I dare say the Duke was not happy with that.’

  The pale eyes, very like Rafe’s, Sam realised, were now fixed on her with a totally different quality. But then they went utterly flat. Edge might have been sent away young, but he must have absorbed certain skills at a very young age.

  ‘No, he was not happy. The Duke said the child’s death was ordained thanks to Edward’s disrespect to the Edgerton name.’

  Sam gasped in shock.

  ‘He did not. He could not have said such a thing.’

  The Duchess didn’t answer.

  ‘He said that...to Edge? To his face?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sam leaned forward, then sat back. She could not sit still.

  ‘I have never heard anything so cruel, so ignorant...so brutal. To say something like that when they had just lost their child.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘Edge and Dora. It is too cruel. They must have been devastated.’

  ‘Dora was not at the burial, naturally. She had been ill and was with her mother in Bath for some months. The child was very poorly that last year. He never did recover after the rheumatic fever struck him and the doctors did not give out much hope the child would live to adulthood, you see. He could hardly even crawl. So naturally they recommended Dora not expose herself to the worry of her son’s ailments given her delicate constitution. The Duke felt that, too, was a sign. He felt it best to place the child in the care of a woman on one of our lesser properties. Once that was arranged Dora’s mother would naturally have considered advising her to return to Chesham so they could begin again.’

  Sam shook her head. Edge had shared only the barest bones of this tragedy and it had still been devastating. She had never realised how alone he had been in his love for his son.

  ‘You keep saying “naturally”,’ she said. ‘I see nothing natural about any of this other than Edge’s love for his son. Do you mean to say that for the whole
year between Jacob’s illness and death Dora was coddling her nerves in Bath, being manipulated by her mother into punishing and threatening Edge, while his own father proclaimed it an act of God that a baby suffer and die? And you stood by and didn’t howl to the heavens at how wrong this was?’

  The Duchess plucked at some lint on her grey wool gown. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sam could not bear another word. She stood and realised her legs were shaking.

  ‘I am sorry, Your Grace, but you must excuse me for a moment. I... No, I am not sorry. I am so very, very grateful to you. You will never know how much.’

  She had finally succeeded in exciting an emotion other than disdain from the woman, if surprise could be considered an emotion.

  ‘Grateful?’

  ‘Yes, grateful. I did not understand how you could have given away your child, a boy of six, but it was the very best thing you could have done. Poppy and Janet loved him with all their enormous hearts, unconditionally. They helped make him the marvellous, unique man he is. Someone any natural parent would be so proud of they would likely purchase a hundred copies of his novels and force all their friends to read them, but would fight tooth and nail to protect his privacy if he so wished it. It broke their hearts when your...when their grandson died. It broke their hearts when Edge went even further away and they had to let him go and hope he would return. I saw their faces when he arrived in Qetara. That is love. And I guarantee you that they are probably even now filled with happiness at the thought that they will see him again when they reach England. That is why Edge will always turn to them when he needs to see what he is really like. Not to you.’

  ‘Yes. I know. And now to you. What do you call him when you wish to annoy him?’ the Duchess asked.

  Sam felt very much as if she’d run off a cliff. Her breath was still choppy, her heart beating faster than a horse at a gallop, but she’d lost her ground. The Duchess wasn’t even looking at her, but over her shoulder, and with a shiver of premonition Sam turned. Edge and Rafe were standing just outside the open door. Edge was holding Rafe’s arm, whether to support him or anchor himself was unclear. Rafe was leaning on a cane and he moved forward awkwardly.

  ‘Yes, Sam. What do you call this lug when you wish to annoy him? I could use some leverage. Hello, Mother. I admit you have succeeded in surprising me.’

  ‘I dare say I have. You are not looking well, Rafael. These past two years have not dealt kindly with you. Do sit down before you fall down.’ She patted the sofa by her, but Rafe managed to ease himself into an armchair opposite her. Sam wavered and found herself pressed back down on to the sofa by Edge. He sat within reach but unreachable, his gaze on the Duchess.

  ‘What game were you playing just now, Mother?’

  ‘Game?’ Sam demanded, still trying to steady herself.

  ‘I do not indulge in games, Edw...Edge. I was curious about your wife, that is all. She is nothing like Dora.’

  ‘No. Thank God.’

  ‘Yes. Dora was a charming girl, full of light and laughter as long as the sun shone, but not built for hardship. A delightful lapdog to your current lioness.’

  ‘You were testing me?’ Sam demanded, but the Duchess turned to her sons.

  ‘I am aware my choices when you were young mean I will always have but limited access to you and I have accepted that. I still believe it was the best decision under the circumstances after the effects of your father’s accident became apparent. Now that Rafe has little choice but to assume the responsibilities of his title—’ she glanced at Rafe as he shifted in the armchair ‘—I will remove to the Lancashire property. I have only remained until now to ensure Greybourne does not fall into disrepair and I hope I have not done too ill a job. I know neither of you will voluntarily seek my company in future so naturally I wished to take what is likely to be a singular opportunity to see if this woman will make you a good wife. I see that she shall and I was wrong to worry.’

  Sam’s eyes moved between the three of them. The resemblance was almost comically marked at the moment, each more rigid than the next as if afraid to turn over the stone the Duchess had tossed into their midst. Sam had no patience for circumspection at this point.

  ‘What accident? And what has it to do with sending Edge away?’

  ‘I am surprised you have no memory of this, Rafael. You were, after all, seven years old at the time. The Duke was thrown from his horse and suffered a severe injury to the head. For a long time we thought he would not survive and though he did he was no longer the same man. He became most pious and intolerant and...occasionally violent. After the incident when he broke your arm, Edw... Edge, Dr Parracombe and I decided it was judicious we limit his access to the children since there was no question of having the Duke confined. That scandal would have stained the Greybourne name beyond repair.’

  Edge clasped his left arm.

  ‘He broke it? My father broke it? How?’

  For the first time Sam saw true emotion in the woman’s eyes—but the fear and pain were tucked swiftly away; only a faint tremor remained in the Duchess’s next words.

  ‘That day...you were reading to me from a book. Even then you had the most marvellous voice and nothing gave me greater pleasure than to hear you read. But Greybourne walked in and tried to take the book from you. You were always stubborn, my boy, and unfortunately you held on. Before I could even think he threw you against the wall. By the time Dr Parracombe came and treated you and sedated him I had made a pact with myself. I would protect my children by whatever means possible and that meant removing you from danger and ensuring no one but I and the doctor knew the truth. By luck Poppy was still in London and I asked if he would take you for a spell.’ She smoothed her dress again, but as no one broke the silence she continued. ‘As time passed I realised you would be infinitely happier with them than at Greybourne. I could hardly expect the Duke to condone sending his heir to Egypt, but I ensured you spent most of the year at school, Rafe, and the girls with the governess in their own wing. Naturally we could allow no taint of madness to cling to the Greybourne name and as far as I know there have never been rumours. Rigid religious beliefs served as a fine excuse for his spells. Now he is dead we need no longer be concerned with discovery. Doctor Parracombe is completely trustworthy.’

  ‘Trustworthy... Mother, why did you never say a word of this? We have not been children for a while. We deserved to know.’

  ‘I thought it the best course of action.’ She turned to Rafe. ‘Greybourne is your cross to bear now, Rafe. I do hope you find someone to share it with who will make it a happier place.’

  Her gaze moved over Rafe’s face and her fingers reached out and hovered within reach of his scarred jaw.

  ‘I hope...no more of this for a while?’

  He shook his head, looking as bemused as Edge.

  ‘Good,’ the Duchess said. ‘I have promised to visit with some friends while I am in town and then I must prepare for my departure to Lancashire now I have seen all is well. Do ring for my carriage to be brought round.’

  * * *

  Sam sensed Edge enter the room and placed the drawing she held face down on the table.

  ‘Has she gone?’

  He nodded. He was watching her as warily as he had watched his mother.

  ‘And Rafe?’

  ‘Sleeping. He is still weaker than he wishes to believe.’

  ‘He has been busy.’

  Edge’s mouth picked up at the corners. His first true smile for her for days. Her sad little heart stretched itself at his feet like a panting puppy.

  Oh, Edge. I am trying so hard to do what is right and I keep ruining it.

  ‘So have you, Sam. That was quite an attack.’

  ‘You heard it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘How much of it?’

  ‘Most of it. Rafe was already in the corridor when I went to fetch him,
but once we reached the door we heard you... I wanted to go in and stop her, but he said...’ Edge spread out his hands as if trying to explain the unexplainable. ‘He said to trust you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re sorry?’

  ‘I should have protected you, not the other way around.’

  ‘I was a vicious shrew.’

  ‘Not vicious. Protective. A lioness, as my mother said. No, a warrior queen on the rampage. Boadicea. Hatshepsut. Cleopatra. Nike...’

  ‘Nike is mythical, not real.’

  ‘Many myths are based on reality. Besides, I don’t need comparison. You were magnificent, Sam. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re not angry?’

  ‘My manly pride is a trifle trampled at having been rescued from the dragon by the damsel, but I find I rather like the experience.’

  ‘You look...strange.’

  ‘I’m smiling.’

  She smiled as well.

  ‘That is not what I mean.’

  ‘I know. I think I am...in shock. A little. All these years I thought I wasn’t...important enough to keep. Or worse—that there was something so objectionable about me I was best kept far away. Even Dora’s pulling away when she became with child felt like proof—I tried to tell myself it was foolish, but there was a part of me that believed the taint was showing through. When Jacob fell ill... I didn’t believe my father’s vicious rant about judgement, but I couldn’t shake it off. When your life is built around a gaping pit it’s easy to populate it with monsters. So I decided to place a lid on it and ignore it as best I could. Until I met you again and you kept shoving me in. And now this... Strange how it never occurred to me it might be the other way around. Now I feel guilty I hated my mother.’

  She took his hand.

  ‘She made her choice, Edge. I know what she said, but she should have told you.’

  ‘Yes. But we become stuck in our ways. With our choices.’