“He wasn’t gloating. I believe he’s genuinely concerned that you’re in need of a friend.”
All he needed was her, and he could no longer have her. “Was he the one who told you?”
“No, I was visited by three duchesses.”
“Ashebury and—” He arched a brow.
“Lovingdon and Avendale.”
“Ah, yes.”
“I won’t leave London and have you face them all alone. I’ll stand by you and confirm whatever details of the story you told.”
He didn’t want her here for the Season, the scandal. She was safe but he wasn’t going to be welcomed anywhere for a while.
“Let me take you to Evermore. I won’t stay in London. I’ll go on to another estate. By the time you’re officially out of mourning this will all be forgotten.”
“That’s what Minerva said. That it won’t take long before you’re forgiven.”
He lifted his glass. “Let’s hope she has the right of it. I’d like to stop by Havisham if you’ve no objection. I know it’s out of the way, but I want Marsden to meet Allie. He’s the closest thing she has to a grandfather.”
“Will it be difficult explaining things to him?”
“Locke already told him the truth. He wanted to ensure his father was mourning the correct brother.”
“So we’ll be welcomed.”
“With open arms.”
“That’ll be nice. I’d like to stop by there, then.” She glanced around. “Never been in your residence before, but it doesn’t remind me of you.”
“Most of the furnishings belonged to Ashe. As usual, I took the easy way. Simply purchased what was already here.”
She scowled at him. “You don’t take the easy way, Edward. I don’t believe you ever have. You work hard to make people believe you’re a slacker, but you’re not.”
“Ah, so you’ve figured me out have you?”
“Yes, I quite believe I have.” She finished off her brandy, set the glass aside. “Has your residence a bedchamber?”
“One more night?”
“One more night.”
Chapter 26
It was good to see Havisham appear on the rise. Edward hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d missed it until he caught sight of it again. He had so many good memories of the place.
“We fought,” he said quietly as the coach turned onto the long path that would lead them to the manor. “Albert and I smacked at each other the entire journey here. Drove the solicitor to distraction.”
“Do you think your father knew that Marsden was mad?” Julia asked.
During the long sojourn here, they’d barely spoken, simply held each other. So much needed to be said, so much shouldn’t be said.
“Surely not. I don’t know if anyone really knew how much he was affected by his wife’s passing, not until years later.”
“But to go mad . . .”
He decided against revealing that he could understand it. He had become lost in drink, Marsden had become lost in the past, held too tightly to the memories. If Julia weren’t here at all, he might do the same. While their future relationship would be chaste, at least he could speak to her from time to time, could share a dance with her at a ball, could visit at Christmas and play St. Nicholas for her daughter.
“I’ve only been here once before,” she said. “I don’t think I slept a wink.”
It had been many nights before he’d finally been able to sleep in the strange residence with its homages to the past and its haunting echoes. “The screeching is only the wind.”
“But it sounds so mournful.”
The carriage came to a halt. As Edward prepared to disembark, he leaned in and whispered, “If you get frightened tonight, come crawl into bed with me.”
The footman opened the door before she could respond. Edward leaped out and then handed her down. Looking up at him seductively, she said, “I offer you the same invitation.”
He thought he just might take it. If nothing else, he could simply hold her. Although the last time they were in bed together, they’d done a good deal more than that. Neither of them seemed to have much strength in resisting the other. But for her, he had to be strong, had to battle the temptation.
“Hello!” Locke shouted.
Edward looked over to see his friend charging down the steps of the manor. Visitors here were infrequent, and he’d sent word ahead that they’d be arriving. Obviously, Locke had been watching for them.
Reaching Edward, he embraced him, gave him a sound clap on the back. “Welcome, Grey.”
Stepping back, Edward said, “Edward will suffice.”
Locke looked at him, looked at Julia. “So you know.”
“All of London knows,” she admitted.
He grimaced. “That couldn’t have been very pleasant.”
“Might be a while before I again stand up in the House of Lords to make a statement,” Edward assured him.
Shaking his head, Locke laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to be telling them tales next year.” Leaning in, he bussed a kiss over Julia’s cheek. “Welcome to Havisham Hall. My father has been beside himself with the thought of your arrival. He’s actually made a rare departure from his rooms and is waiting for us on the terrace.”
As the Marquess of Marsden pushed himself out of his chair, Edward was taken aback by how frail he appeared, and yet he hardly seemed to have changed. His white hair hung past his shoulders in limp strands, his cheeks as sunken as they’d been the day he met him. His green eyes as sharp. They could fool a person into thinking he still had all his wits about him.
He held his arms wide. “Edward.”
He went to Marsden, let him fold his arms around him. The marquess’s hold was stronger, more powerful, than he’d expected, Marsden’s arthritic hands gently patting his back.
“Sorry, lad, sorry,” he rasped in a voice that had gone permanently hoarse from all the times he’d screamed his love’s name as he’d raced over the moors, firm in his belief that he saw her, that he could reunite with her.
The tears of sadness threatened as Edward hugged the thin, bent man who had been like a father to him and Albert. “He went quickly.” The lie on his tongue was beginning to resound as though it were the truth.
But when he leaned back, he saw in Marsden’s eyes that the marquess recognized the lie for what it was: an attempt to spare him the pain of the truth. Giving his head an almost imperceptible shake, he patted Edward’s cheek, censure in the flatness of lips. He’d forgotten that Marsden had always known when one of them lied, had never approved, but he knew the old man would hold the secret, that he understood it was for Julia.
Looking past Edward, Marsden smiled sadly and held out a hand. “My dear.”
Julia went to him, placed her gloved hand in his. He brought it to his lips. “It is not easy to be the one left behind.”
She darted a glance at Edward. “No, it’s not, but Edward has proven to be a great source of strength.”
“Albert was destined to go young, you know. Had an old soul, like my wife. I could see it in his eyes. But it doesn’t make us miss them any less, does it?”
“It absolutely does not.”
He raised a gnarled finger. “But he left you a precious gift.”
Her smile was brighter than the sun. “Yes, he did.” Taking Allie from the nanny who was standing nearby, she turned back to Marsden. “I’d like to introduce you to Lady Alberta.”
“Beautiful child, beautiful.” He lifted hopeful eyes. “May I hold her? I won’t drop her.”
“Yes, of course.” Very carefully she transferred Allie into Marsden’s arms.
He lowered his head. “Hello, precious.”
Allie emitted a high-pitched sound that very much resembled a laugh.
Her eyes wide, Julia chuckled. “Sh
e’s never done that before, has she, Edward?”
“No, she hasn’t. Not that I’ve heard.”
Marsden winked. “I have a way with the ladies.” He looked at Locke. “You need one of these. Except it should be a boy. They could marry.”
Locke merely rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and looked out over the vast expanse of land that stretched toward the horizon, as though he wished to distance himself from his father and his pointed words.
“Lady Greyling, have some tea with me and tell me everything about her,” Marsden insisted.
“You must call me Julia,” she said as she took a chair.
Holding Allie close, obviously not yet ready to relinquish his hold on her, Marsden sat. Edward and Locke joined them, although most of the conversation was carried by Marsden and Julia. He truly did seem to want to know everything about Allie, although at this point in her life there wasn’t a good deal to tell. Still, Julia went to great pains to expand on any question the marquess asked.
It was a lovely afternoon. Troubles seemed far away, impossible dreams seemed possible. Edward half listened to the conversation. It was odd that he felt more at home here, but then he’d lived here longer than at Evermore. Some of his fondest memories of Albert had occurred here. When Allie was older he would bring her back, walk over the grounds and share stories of her father.
Julia was right about that. It wasn’t fair to deny her an opportunity to know and appreciate her true father. Edward didn’t want to take that away from her, or Albert.
She began to fuss. Standing, Julia took her from Marsden. All the men came to their feet.
“I’m going to take her for a little walk,” she said. “Give you gentlemen a chance to catch up.” Bouncing her daughter in her arms, she wandered away from the terrace into the sunshine, the nanny in tow.
“Fetch us some scotch, Locke,” Marsden ordered. “I detest tea. Always have.”
When the scotch was poured, Marsden raised his glass. “To love.” After taking a sip, he arched a brow at Edward. “You do love her, don’t you?”
“How can one not love that little girl?”
The wrinkles of his face shifted as he smiled. “I meant her mother.”
Edward shouldn’t have been surprised by Marsden’s ability to recognize his feelings. The man might be completely mad, but he wasn’t stupid.
Locke, on the other hand, straightened as though his father had walloped him on the side of the head. He leaned forward. “You love her? How the bloody hell did that happen? You’ve always disliked her.”
Edward grimaced. “Not as much as I let on.”
“Well, hell, that’s unfortunate. What are you going to do?”
“What can we do? The law won’t let us marry. Any children we have would be bastards. She would be ostracized. Allie’s future would be compromised. So I’ll deliver her to Evermore. She and Allie will live there while I’ll reside at one of the other estates.”
“Take her to Switzerland,” Marsden said.
Edward released a burst of harsh laughter, then sobered. “Albert told me the same thing, as he lay dying. ‘Take her to Switzerland.’ I thought maybe it was someplace he and Julia planned to travel, somewhere she dreamed of visiting, but when I asked her about it, she had no interest in it whatsoever. Why would he and you tell me to take her there?”
Marsden looked at him as though he were the one who was mad. “Because you can marry her there.”
Stunned by his words, Edward could do little more than stare at him.
The old man cackled. “Do you think you’re the first man to want to marry his brother’s wife?” He waved a hand through the air. “Oh, some people will turn their noses up at you, but to hell with them. These laws prohibiting those related by marriage from marrying are preposterous. The belief that a couple engaging in sex suddenly makes the entire family blood relations is madness.”
The irony of the mad Marquess of Marsden calling anything madness was not lost on Edward.
Marsden pounded his fist on the table. “Do you not pay attention to what goes on in Parliament? Of course you don’t. You’ve only just taken your place in the House of Lords. People have been trying to change those laws for years.”
“How do you know?” Locke asked. “You haven’t sat in the House of Lords since I was born.”
Marsden scowled at his son. “I read the newspapers.” He shrugged. “Sometimes someone might send me a letter asking my opinion. And I know a gent or two who took his lady to Switzerland.”
Scraping back the chair, Edward stood and walked to the edge of the terrace. “We just go to Switzerland. Live there.” He could manage the estates from there, periodically return to England.
“No,” Marsden answered impatiently. “You marry there, because they don’t care if people are related by marriage. Then you come back here. England recognizes the marriage. Julia is your legal wife. Your children are legitimate. One consideration: It is costly.”
As though lack of money would prove any sort of deterrent to him when he loved Julia so much. But why would Albert spend his last breath telling him to take her to Switzerland? Why would he—
He slammed his eyes closed as the truth nearly knocked him to his knees. Albert had known, known about Edward’s feelings for Julia. He thought he’d been so damned good at disguising them. All the drinking, all the sarcastic remarks, hadn’t fooled his brother.
With his dying breath Albert had provided not only the answer to a question that Edward hadn’t even known he’d be asking, but given his blessing as well.
Julia watched as Edward strode toward her. She’d enjoyed watching him sitting and talking with the marquess and the viscount. It was obvious that for him this was home and they were family. They shared a very special bond, and she was extremely glad that he had it. She thought he might need them in the coming months, especially if being without her was going to be as difficult for him as being without him would be for her.
“Take a walk with me,” he said when he reached her.
She handed the sleeping Allie off to Nanny, intertwined her arm with his and let him lead the way through what she assumed had once been a beautiful garden, but now consisted only of weeds and overgrowth. Weather and years of neglect had taken its toll on trellises and benches, leaving behind only rotting wood.
“A woman with a great deal of stamina and creativity might have fun putting this place to rights,” she said.
“The challenge for her would be convincing Marsden to let her change anything at all. Every decaying inch of the place is a memorial to his wife.”
“How can he stand to see everything deteriorating?”
“I don’t believe he does. I think he sees it exactly as it was when she was alive. By never letting anyone touch it, he ensured that he never saw it any differently.”
“He must have loved her immeasurably.”
“To him, she was everything. I’m not certain if that’s a good or bad thing.”
She didn’t want to even try to provide an answer to that question. “Is she buried here?”
Edward pointed off to his left. “In a small cemetery over that hill.”
“I suppose you explored there.”
“We explored everywhere.”
He helped her step over a low bit of brush and onto what had once been a path. The boughs of the trees provided shade. She supposed he was worried about the sunshine causing her to have freckles, though she’d never had a single one in her entire life. Or maybe he wanted to escort her farther into the trees so he could kiss her.
But if that was the case, he was taking his sweet time, as he had yet to do anything more than face her and hold her gaze.
“Albert knew,” he said quietly. “He knew I had feelings for you.”
She blinked, shook her head, tried to make sense of what he’d said. “
How do you know?”
“Because he told me to take you to Switzerland.”
“I don’t understand. As I told you before, I’ve never considered traveling there. He and I never talked about it. Why would he say that?”
“Because I can marry you there.”
While her heart hammered, everything else within her went still, quiet. She’d heard the words but they made no sense.
“Marsden knows people, in our situation, who went to Switzerland to marry. Why would Albert tell me to take you there unless he knew I would want to marry you?”
“Perhaps he simply wanted you to watch out for me, and he thought it would be easier if we were married. He trusted you, Edward, and he hadn’t left a will.”
“Maybe.”
“But you don’t think so.”
He shook his head. “I think he knew. I think he always knew. He was always encouraging me to spend more time with him, with you. I think he was aware of what it was costing me to keep my distance. Costing him, me, maybe even you. He understood that my love for him would ensure that I never did anything untoward where you were concerned. He was trying to give me permission to be more myself.”
Possibly. She remembered the final entry in his journal, how she’d read silently instead of sharing it with Edward. “In his journal, he wrote that he had yet to write his will because he’d been struggling with whom to name as guardian of his child. During your time together in Africa, he came to the conclusion there was no one better than you to care for those he loved.”
“I have to admit, Julia, that while we’ve been together, I have not been clear of conscience. A small part of me nagged that I was betraying my brother.”
“I must be honest that I’ve not been completely clear of conscience either,” she said. “Perhaps that’s the reason London was able to open my eyes so clearly to the myriad ways that what we were doing was wrong.”
“But if I am judging Albert’s words correctly, he would approve of our being together.” Taking her hand, he dropped to one knee. “So will you, Julia Alcott, honor me by becoming my wife? Our marriage will be legal. Our children legitimate.”
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