He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the seat.
She grabbed the handkerchief while he no longer watched her and wiped her face. She put down the basket and sniffed. “What happened?”
“When?” He didn’t lift his head.
“Your past. What made you...?”
He straightened his neck at that. “What made me the abomination that I am? Many things, actually. Terrible, gruesome things, but in your current state, I won’t go into details. While it doesn’t excuse who I am, there is a reason I am this way.”
She swallowed. After everything that had happened three nights ago, she couldn’t believe they were speaking civilly. Only minutes ago, she’d wanted him to leave. Now, she wanted to know more. He was an anomaly. He broke into rooms and homes, threatened and charmed. The man was a paradox.
“Did you have a happy childhood?” she asked.
“My childhood proved that night terrors were real.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I won’t.”
“But later?”
He frowned again. “You looked ready to forgive me. The only person who’s ever forgiven me that quickly is my brother Oliver, but he’s blood. You’re just… so soft,” he accused. Then he looked at her in sort of the same way she was likely looking at him.
It was a studious expression. Was she that complicated? She didn’t think so, but then again, these were unusual circumstances.
“Don’t forgive me, Madison. Say you won’t forgive me,” he demanded.
She swallowed. “I…”
“Matthew told me about Geneve and the baskets.”
She stilled, jarred by the subject change. She reached down for the basket, in desperate need of something to do. She wove in silence.
“Where did the idea for the gift baskets come from?”
She was glad when she managed to keep her fingers moving. “I gave one to a friend. They liked it—”
“He liked it. You mean Judd.”
She stopped and looked at him.
He lifted his hands. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just… I like to figure things out.”
“And people,” she added. “Is that why you have two doctorates? One on human thought and the other on the body?”
He lifted a brow. “Who told you what my degrees were in?”
“One of Matthew’s friends mentioned it at dinner the other evening.” She’d hardly paid attention. Between Matthew’s drinking and Leo’s dismissing her from his mind as little more than a whore, it had not been a pleasant evening for her.
He shrugged. “Honestly, I think I was bored and looking for something to chain me to a place for a time. This was after my father’s death.”
She opened her mouth.
He lifted his hand again. “Don’t ask.”
“How do you know what I was going to say?”
“You already know I like figuring people out.”
Was he starting to figure her out? She feared he would.
“I won’t stop searching for that letter,” he warned.
And in a moment, she was back to despising him.
“I imagine it’s more than windows that are giving you trouble,” she said. “Judd’s cousin didn’t come alone. He brought his mother, mother-in-law, two brothers, both their wives, and a dozen children between them all.”
She looked back down at her basket. “With so many people, I’m sure there are people up at every hour on the hour over there.”
“So you knew?”
She smiled at him. “Yes, I did.”
They were silent.
He leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you will. You can’t help it, am I right?”
He nodded.
They could never be friends. And she felt sorrier for him than for herself.
She suspected very few people genuinely loved Leo. Someone had shown him great pain and then had taught him how to inflict it on others.
But Madison knew what love was, and she felt its comfort at that very moment.
“Would you like to so see your father?” he asked. “I’m to meet him soon.”
Madison’s eyes widened. Her father didn’t teach today. “I would love to go, but Matthew…”
He smiled. “Let me worry about Matthew.” He stood. “Be ready to go in ten minutes.”
She was still seated when he left, unsure if she should trust him.
Then she got up. The weight of her stomach slowed her as she moved around in her room.
She was downstairs exactly ten minutes later and decided to wait in the foyer. Ten minutes more passed and she laughed and imagined Leo was combing his hair to make sure every strand was in place. He was very handsome. She wondered what sort of maintenance such beauty required for a man. Another five minutes and she began to wonder if he’d forgotten.
The front door opened, and she frowned at the sight of Matthew.
He looked at her. “Where are you going?”
Her mouth trembled. “To see my father.”
He lifted a brow. “No, you’re not.” He took off his coat and walked past her.
She stared at his back. “Leo said he’d take me,” Leo said he’d deal with Matthew, so why was she being left to do it?
He turned to her. “Is that what he said?” He grunted. “Leo’s gone.”
She gasped. Her mind went immediately to death. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him on the road out of town. He’s gone. He left.” Matthew looked her over. He didn’t even bother to gloat. “Take off your coat. You won’t be needing it anytime soon.”
She remained rooted in her place for a long time after Matthew disappeared somewhere in the house.
Leo had left and he hadn’t said goodbye.
Madison laughed. She’d heard of broken promises before, but this was truly the fastest she’d ever been disappointed.
Good riddance.
She hadn’t needed him in her life. He’d made her feel. He’d given her hope over and over again and now he was gone.
She hoped she never saw him again.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 5
* * *
“Lord Leo?” a quiet voice called.
Leo lifted his head from where his arms rested on his knees. He stared down at the boy who rested in the bed before him. A small lamp burned on a table nearby. The sky outside was still black.
Young Master Wess Taylor had been in the sickroom at Heaton School for Boys for two days, and Leo hadn’t found out until eight hours ago. For all the money he paid to the prestigious center of intellect, they would answer to him for this slip in their judgment.
He’d been thinking of all the ways he’d make them suffer as he rode furiously toward the school. It had taken him five hours to get here from Oxford. He’d left his possessions behind.
Possessions had never mattered. He cared for few things.
Less than a handful of people knew where Leo was at all times. Often, not even Van Dero knew where he went, but always, always, Leo sent word to a teacher at Heaton for reasons such as this.
“What happened this time?” Leo asked.
Wess looked away and swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He was ten and already Leo could see some definition in his face.
When Wess didn’t answer swiftly enough, Leo said, “Look at me.”
There was a small cut on Wess’ chin. If only that were the worst of it.
Wess turned. Blue eyes that matched Leo’s stared back at him. “It was just a fight.”
“Just a fight? You nearly broke your leg. What does the other boy look like?”
Wess’ leg was currently in some sort of contraption that looked painful.
The young man pressed his lips together. “There were four of them.”
“What were their names?”
“I don’t remember.”
He was lying. Wess’ nostrils flared, his small f
ace turned red, and he fought his need to cry.
They’d attacked him. Peerage sons. Likely a future duke had been part of the quartet.
Sadly, ten-year-olds were the sort of enemies Leo could not murder.
Wess struggled to control himself. Leo didn’t know who had taught Wess not to cry. He surely hadn’t. But then again, that was why Wess lived here and not with him. Leo didn’t want to teach Wess a thing. He didn’t have to imagine the disaster that would have been.
He reached out and grabbed Wess’ small soft hand. Leo didn’t like touching people, but he knew Wess needed it. He enjoyed knowing someone was physically there.
Leo’s mind shouted that Wess was weak. To need anything was a weakness.
As if reading his mind, Wess pushed his hand away and pulled in a breath. “They’re going to kick me out.”
“No, they’re not.”
Wess’ eyes glazed over. His expression of deep sadness was a blow to Leo’s chest. “They will. They told me they would. They were just waiting for you to come.”
“Wess, I’ve been here for hours. No one has told me that you’ve been dismissed.” And they wouldn’t because Leo would lay waste to the school if they dared to try it.
The Headmaster didn’t like him. He didn’t like Wess for that matter either, but Leo didn’t care. Headmaster Quincy knew who Leo worked for. Leo would not hesitate to destroy the campus brick by brick.
“You’ve been here for hours?” Wess’ voice pulled Leo from the darkest parts of his mind.
Leo placed a hand on the boy’s head. The thick locks seemed to darken every time Leo came. “As soon as I got word that you were hurt, I came.”
Wess stared at him. “I didn’t think you would.”
Leo rubbed his head. “If you are ever in danger and I don’t come, it’s because I’m dead.”
Wess stiffened.
Leo inwardly cursed himself for speaking to a child that way.
Wess eventually relaxed. Then he narrowed his eyes and said, “George thinks you’re my father.”
Leo took his hand back. “But you know that’s not true. I told you I wasn’t.” His heart raced.
It was far better for Wess to think Leo his dead father’s best friend than know Leo was his actual father. Wess could never be his son. Leo would never put such a burden on the boy. Leo wasn’t a good man. Leo’s father had been worse. So instead, Leo had given Wess a hero for a father. A man he could look up to. A fictional do-gooder who had never done a bad thing in his life.
A perfect father.
“I know you’re not.” Wess scowled as he continued to scrutinize Leo.
What was the boy thinking, and why was he looking at him in that way?
Leo blamed Mr. George Newpark. George was fifteen and had started at the school last year. Somehow, the two had formed some sort of connection. Leo had questioned it. He hadn’t liked the age difference, yet he couldn’t help but notice how much Wess’ behavior had improved.
Without a documented peerage lineage and only a dead father as a reference, Wess had made very few friends at Heaton. George was the illegitimate son of a lord but the ward of an earl. He was also likely the wealthiest person at the school. George’s uncle, the Earl of Ganden, had invited Wess to come to his home for the upcoming school break and Leo had allowed it. Leo usually spent the holidays with Wess, but he’d manage on his own.
Wess was changing right before his eyes. He was growing up. That bothered Leo, but there was nothing he could about it.
“I hate it here.” Wess crossed his arms. “I want to leave. Can’t I go with you?”
“With me? Oh, no.” The entire thought was preposterous. “You can’t come with me, and you’re not leaving Heaton. This is the best school for boys in all of England.”
“I hate it!” Wess sat up.
“Wess, you were just about to cry over the fact that they were kicking you out.”
“So?”
“So? I need more than that.” Leo didn’t understand children.
A little voice suggested he try spending time with his only son, but he pushed that terrible thought away. Wess needed structure. He needed people who were consistent.
People who didn’t threaten pregnant women and make them cry.
“Come on,” Leo said. “There must be something you like about the school.”
“I like George… and Mr. Douglas.” The piano teacher.
Wess was the best young player Leo had ever heard. A small part of him took pride in that. He’d gifted Wess’ house mother with a piano so that Wess could practice as much as he wished.
The sleek grand piano that dominated the woman’s home had been worth every pound.
“Will you come to my performance next month?” Wess asked. “I am to play at a party.” He wrinkled his nose. He didn’t really like parties. Often there were unfriendly faces there. But he’d suffer a party if it meant showing off his talents.
“Your leg is broken. You’re still going to play?”
Wess nodded and practically shook his whole body with his enthusiasm. “I’ll play. You’ll come, won’t you?”
Leo tried to get his heart back on an even rhythm. The lightness in his chest was making it hard to breathe. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“I think I might want to change my name,” Wess said all of a sudden.
“You mean you wish to change it from Taylor?” Leo wouldn’t mind that so much. He’d given Wess the first last name he could think of when he’d been born.
“No, I mean my first name,” Wess said. “It’s odd. I don’t want to be odd.”
Leo straightened, offended. “What are you talking about? You have a fine name.” Was someone taunting him over his name? Would Leo have to burn the entire place down to make his point? Leave my son alone.
“Yes, but my parents are dead.” He shrugged. “They won’t know the difference.”
“But I will. You’re Wess to me.” Why did the thought of Wess changing his name pain him so much?
Wess studied him. “It’s odd.”
“It isn’t. Stop saying that.” Leo was getting angry. Wess didn’t usually fight him so much. What happened to the easy child he’d once known? The one he’d taken into his arms after his mistress had died in labor? Leo had only held the young Wess Taylor for an hour. Then he’d handed him to a nursemaid before he got the idea to stay and actually raise him.
“I like John or Nicodemus.”
Leo laughed. “Nicodemus? That’s a better name than Wess?”
Wess giggled. His square white teeth were absolutely charming.
“Your father named you Wess for a reason.”
He tilted his head. “Did he ever tell you what my name means?”
“He did. He told me the whole story.”
Wess laid his head back on the pillow and stared at Leo, waiting for him to go on.
Leo leaned back in the uncomfortable chair he’d occupied for half the night and crossed his arms. “It comes from the south.”
Wess smirked. “I thought you would say west.”
West. Wess.
Leo chuckled. “No. It’s from the south of England. You were named after the ancient kingdom of Wessex.”
Wess’ brows rose. “A kingdom?”
Leo nodded and leaned forward. “You were named after a kingdom so clever that when an enemy kingdom came to take over, Wessex was able to pay them to go away.”
The boy frowned. “You mean they didn’t fight?”
Leo shook his head. “Sometimes, the best thing to do is not fight. Sometimes, it’s best to outthink your opponent. When the Danes first came, Wessex wasn’t ready to take them on. But once the Danes left, Wessex prepared.”
“How?”
“Under the guidance of King Albert, they grew in not only strength but wisdom and were ready the next time the Danes came.”
“Did they pay them again?”
Leo laughed. “No. This time, Wessex sent the Danes back. Then eventuall
y Albert’s son Edward would take his father’s place and defeat the Danes.” He paused. “And you do you know what happened later?”
Wessex shook his head.
“Edward united all the lands around him and formed the greatest kingdom on Earth. England.”
Wess smiled. “I like my name.”
“I thought you would.” He touched Wess’ head. “Now go back to sleep. It’s late.”
His son yawned. “Are you going to stay here all night?”
“I’ll be right here when the sun comes up.”
Wess closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair before placing his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.
“Lord Leo?”
“Hm?”
“Are you staying because… you love me?”
Leo curled his fingers down but kept his chin his hands.
“I mean… You were my father’s friend and now you’re my guardian. I just wanted to know. That’s all right, isn’t it? For you to love me?”
Leo grabbed his hand to silence him. He could see Wess’ heart in his eyes. It had risen to the surface, so small and vulnerable.
Leo thought of Madison and the child that was growing inside her. Would anyone tell that boy he was loved?
Either way, Leo knew what his answer needed to be.
“Wess, I love you more than anyone else in the entire world.” In order to save their lives, Leo would willingly die for his brothers. He’d die for many of his friends. But he lived for Wess.
Ten years ago, he’d found purpose in a boy who was small enough to fit into the palms of his hands. His family and friends wondered where he went when he disappeared.
This was where.
He rarely missed one of Wess’ performances. If he did, it was because of work. He’d taught Wess to swim and had come back to teach him how to ride his first pony.
How could Wess even question his feelings? Though Leo hid Wess’ true identity, they were connected. Even if only the two of them ever knew it.
His boy swallowed once more and smiled. Then he closed his eyes.
And Leo was just at the edge of sleep himself when he heard Wess whisper, “I love you too.”
∫ ∫ ∫
1 6
* * *
The students in the lecture hall stood and applauded the man who was standing at the front of the room. Leo seemed to be soaking in the moment of glory. There didn’t seem to be a single humble bone in his body as he accepted the praise and handshakes from the first row.
The Long Awaited Lord Page 8