The truth weighed heavily upon her, and she knew she had to tell him the truth. He could not help her if he didn’t know what had happened. ‘Dalton, there is more about that night. There are things I didn’t tell you.’
His face tensed, and silence descended between them. She could feel his worry, his censure. For so long, she had hidden behind shadows, hoping that no one would ever know, save her father. But she could not keep this from him any longer. She simply didn’t know how to begin.
Dalton finally broke the stillness, saying, ‘Then tell me what happened. All of it, this time.’
Regina saw no other choice. She steeled herself and then faced Dalton. ‘The night when I was attacked, I let you believe that Papa broke the door down to save me. That...wasn’t entirely what happened.’
Her hands began to shake, and her courage faltered. He would truly think the worst of her after this. The blood pulsed within her veins, quickening her fears. ‘Our footman, Frederick, had gone to find another key after Mallencourt locked us inside. He didn’t hear me scream, because the baron had shoved a handkerchief in my mouth.’
Just speaking of that night brought back terrible memories. She remembered her dry mouth, the blend of fear and rage rising inside her as she had tried to fight back. A part of her had remained alert during the attempted rape, and she had pretended to lose her balance.
‘I—suspected that Lord Mallencourt would rape me before anyone could help, and I had to find a way to stop him. He forced me up against the wall, and I was not strong enough to push him away. So, I let my weight fall towards the hearth.’
Dalton was listening to her, his gaze intent and focused. She didn’t know what he thought of her, but she continued. ‘When he tried to pull me back, I seized a fireplace poker and struck him in the head. He lost his balance and fell backwards.’ Bile rose up in her throat, and she struggled to keep back the nausea. ‘H-he cracked his skull against the stone hearth.’
Even now, she was haunted by the blood spreading out upon the white marble. At the time, she’d believed he was merely unconscious. But after Mallencourt didn’t move again, she realised what she had done. He was dead, and she was at fault for it. The paralysing guilt had haunted her ever since, and it was a burden she could never surrender.
‘My father did break down the door. But when he came inside, Mallencourt was already dead. I killed him.’
Her tears did fall now, but Dalton was staring at her as if she were a stranger. There was a blend of horror and disbelief in his expression...which was exactly why she had not spoken of it before.
She waited for him to speak, but he simply stared at her as if she were a stranger. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.
‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’ he asked quietly. His voice held a chill, and after what he’d just learned about her, no doubt he was furious.
‘I didn’t want to see you looking at me the way you are now,’ she answered softly. ‘I didn’t want you to despise me for what I did.’
She waited for him to deny it, but his face hardened with anger. ‘I am your husband in every way that matters, Regina. There was no reason to hide all this. Not from me.’
‘If you had known that I killed Mallencourt, you never would have wanted to marry me.’ She was quite certain of that. ‘I cannot change what I did. But I can keep my past from hurting you.’
‘Is that why you didn’t want to marry me in Scotland?’ he guessed. ‘Because you didn’t think I was strong enough to protect you?’
‘What man wants to wed a murderer?’ she countered. ‘I didn’t want you tangled up in any of this. It wasn’t fair to you.’
‘But it was all right to share my bed, to risk a child?’ he shot back. ‘Why would you use me in that way?’
His words struck her cold, for that was exactly what she had done. She had never thought of it that way, but she had used him to overcome her fears. He had taught her that the union between a man and a woman could be beautiful...but she had never intended it to be permanent between them.
Her heart ached, and tears rose to her eyes. ‘Dalton, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’
He was pacing, his restlessness evident. Then he paused a moment and studied her. ‘You were planning to run away, weren’t you? That’s why you’ve been so distant.’
She nodded. ‘When you told me the Bow Street Runner was coming here, I suspected he had learned the truth. I didn’t see a choice but to leave.’
The bleakness in his eyes nearly shredded her heart. ‘Did you never once believe that I would want to protect you?’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘You gave up on our marriage before it even had a chance.’
‘I thought I was protecting you,’ she answered dully. ‘If you weren’t truly my husband, then your family name would not be dragged into scandal.’ Though it was in his nature, wanting to guard her, there were consequences for her actions. While some might agree that it was an accidental death from self-defence, others might call her a murderer. She didn’t want Dalton to be whispered about in drawing rooms for the rest of his life. He deserved better.
‘It’s far too late for that, Regina. Everyone saw us married in London. Even if they realise it was not a true marriage, they will speak poorly of us.’ He stopped and regarded her. ‘And if I am not legally your husband, if any charges are brought against you, then I can do nothing.’
She shook her head. ‘I never wanted you to be caught up in this, Dalton.’ It wasn’t fair or right. Inwardly, she was trembling with fear.
‘Because you have no faith in me?’
‘No. It’s because I deserve whatever happens to me.’ A shudder crossed over her as she thought of the hangman’s noose. ‘I was young, I was reckless, and I caused a man to die.’ The guilt filled her up inside, drowning her with the knowledge that she could never undo those sins.
‘It wasn’t your fault!’ he insisted. ‘You are not to blame for it.’
‘They will say it was my fault,’ she said quietly. ‘After all, I allowed him to pay a call upon me so late at night. A true lady would never do such a thing. They will say that I encouraged him, that I made him promises. And then they will say that I killed him.’
‘It was an accident,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You know this.’
She did, but she was also realistic about how society would see her. They would be delighted at the idea of her wrongdoing.
‘My father and our footman helped to dispose of his body. What we did was wrong.’ At the time, they had all feared the worst. Her father had been determined to keep anyone from learning the truth, and Frederick had agreed to help.
‘What Mallencourt did was wrong, also.’ His words weighed upon her, though she didn’t truly believe they were comparable. The baron had attacked her, and she had taken his life.
‘I’ve always known I might have to face the consequences for what I did,’ she admitted. ‘It’s why I wanted to disappear in Scotland.’
He stared at her for a time. ‘Are you really giving up on us, Regina? Or are you simply afraid?’
A hard lump caught in her throat, her heart aching. ‘I’m sorry, Dalton. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. If you want me to take my father and leave, I will understand.’ She didn’t want him to share this burden—not when there was no good outcome.
‘And what if I want to help you?’ he asked quietly.
She closed her eyes. ‘I think it would be better if you just let me go.’
* * *
Dalton couldn’t believe what she was saying. He moved in close, taking her waist in his hands. ‘So, none of this was real? You came to Scotland to escape your past, and you won’t allow me to protect you. I’ve said that I love you, but that means nothing.’
Her eyes were filled with tears, but she took his hands and stepped back. ‘I never wanted to involve you in
this.’
It burned him that she had no faith, no trust in him. But worse came the realisation that she didn’t love him in return. He had done everything he could for her, and it wasn’t enough. A darkness unfurled inside with frustration at himself.
He was responsible for bringing her into danger. By hiring the Bow Street Runner, Mr Sidney had reopened the investigation and learned the truth about Mallencourt’s death. If Dalton had not interfered, she might not be in this situation.
‘I’m trying to do the right thing, Dalton,’ she whispered. ‘I’m setting you free to live the life you deserve.’
But he didn’t want to be free. For just once in his life, he wanted to be enough.
He released her from his grasp, feeling as if their makeshift marriage had shattered. Instead, she would walk away, abandoning everything they had built together.
The door closed behind her, and he sank into a chair. Would she truly rather run away than allow him to help her? Did he mean that little to her? His mind was numb, his insides churning.
She wanted him to let her face this disaster alone. But he refused to remain passive. Whether or not they were married by law, he had agreed to take care of her for better or for worse. She needed him, even if she didn’t want his help.
She was his wife in body and spirit, if not legally. Dalton didn’t care that she had pushed him away. He intended to do everything in his power to help her—no matter what it took. Even if she didn’t love him, he would stand by her side and defend her.
He decided to speak to Lord Havershire, to find out what could be done. And he also intended to confront Lady Anne, to discover why she had turned against her friend. While neither the earl, nor Regina, could visit London, there was nothing to prevent him from doing so.
Dalton left the room and saw one of the housemaids tidying up the parlour. ‘Have you seen Lord Havershire?’
The girl’s face turned confused. ‘He left, my lord.’
‘What do you mean, he left?’ Dalton’s mood tightened, for the earl ought to be here. Had he turned coward and run? He crossed to the window and saw Mr Sidney’s coach departing but no one else.
‘He went with the man who came calling,’ the maid answered. ‘He didna pack any clothes, but he just...went away.’
‘Did you hear him say anything? Did he speak to anyone?’
‘He only said that he had to leave, to help his daughter.’ Then a moment later, she added, ‘He did go to see Lady Camford before he left. And he seemed sad after he said goodbye.’
Havershire was clearly planning something, but what? A coldness caught Dalton as he mulled it over. If Havershire returned to London, everything could unravel. The earl was already unstable after he’d tried to kill Miss Goodson. God help him if the man was going after Lady Anne.
Or there was another possibility. Dalton knew what he would do, if he were in the man’s place. The earl was dying of consumption, and everyone knew it. If Havershire went willingly to the authorities and confessed to murder, Regina would never face charges. But more than that, the earl could risk losing everything.
Dalton bit back a foul curse. Why had Mr Sidney agreed to take the earl with him? After everything they had discussed, why take the risk?
‘Tell MacLachor to pack my belongings for London. I’m leaving immediately.’ Havershire would need someone to intervene and pull him back to reality.
Dalton’s mind was spinning with all that needed to be done, but as he focused his thoughts, he recognised that he ought to seek help from his father. As a peer, Lord Brevershire held a great deal of influence.
He won’t want to help you, his brain warned. When had his father ever noticed him or even treated him like a son? John blamed him for Brandon’s death. He had always been disappointed or indifferent to Dalton’s efforts to please him.
But if it was necessary to humble himself before the earl, to save Regina and her family, he would do it without question.
* * *
Regina had never felt so alone in all her life. Over the past week, she could hardly bear it, worrying about Dalton and her father. Papa hadn’t said much about why he was leaving, but he’d confessed that he missed Arabella and wanted to see her.
She suspected he was planning more than that, from what he’d promised Dalton. Her fears had only doubled as she questioned what her father would do. But how could she argue with him, if he wanted to see Mother again?
She was so grateful that Dalton had gone after him. If anyone could keep Ned out of trouble, it was him. Even so, she could not relinquish her apprehensions. At night, she had slept in Dalton’s bed, wishing he were still there. Although she didn’t regret revealing the truth to him, it had changed their relationship. And she didn’t know if it could be rebuilt after she had kept secrets from him for so long.
Regina tried not to think of the emptiness stretching out between them. Dalton had tried to give her a good life, a good marriage. For a time, she had hoped she could abandon the past and reach for the future she wanted. It had almost seemed possible, until now.
You’re feeling sorry for yourself, her inner voice chided. Stop moping about like a wallflower.
The worst had happened, and he now knew everything. She could either bemoan her fate, or she could take steps to improve her circumstances. It was time to cast off the chains of the past and stand up for what she wanted.
Or who she wanted. And in this case, it was most definitely Dalton St George.
She realised now, that it had been a mistake to offer him his freedom. What kind of a coward was she, suggesting that she take her father and go? At the time, she’d been caught up in her fog of misery, feeling as if she had entangled Dalton in a trap.
His words haunted her now.
I’ve said that I love you, but that means nothing.
That wasn’t true at all. He meant everything to her. And it was her fear and panic clouding her judgement, making it impossible to find the right words. She’d been terrified that Mr Sidney had come to arrest her for murder.
But he’d only come to warn her. She’d been given a second chance at life, as long as she remained in Scotland. Perhaps it was time to stop being a victim and start taking command of herself and her life. Then she could find a way to rebuild her marriage.
Regina decided to pay a call on his grandfather to learn more about him. The older man had become dear to her, and what better way to brighten her day than to climb aboard a sailing vessel bound to imaginary India? She smiled at the thought.
MacLachor was kind enough to bring Arthur and the leather lead so she could take him on a walk with her. The puppy was thrilled to be out in the sunshine, and she had to hold him back to keep him from running.
‘Will you be wanting me to accompany you to meet the Earl of Cairnross, my lady?’ the footman asked.
‘No, thank you. I will simply walk to his house and perhaps I might coax Lord Cairnross to walk back with me. I should be home within a few hours.’
‘As you will, then.’
Regina breathed in the fresh air, letting it lift away her melancholy. The air was growing cooler, and she was glad she had worn a pelisse with her gown. The dog was barking, straining at the lead, and she tried to keep her grip firm but gentle.
She slowed her pace while the puppy sniffed at the ground, and a sudden sadness washed over her with the realisation that she truly couldn’t return to London any more.
But her mother would never live anywhere else...and Ned was sick. When her father eventually died, Regina couldn’t imagine Arabella coming to live here. It made her wonder if she would ever see them again.
In the distance, she saw Lord Cairnross standing outside his house. His pallor was grey, and there was a solemnity to his demeanour. The housekeeper was speaking to him, but he waved her off. Regina wondered if this was not a good day, after all.
‘Goo
d morning, Lord Cairnross,’ she said when she reached his side. ‘How are you feeling today?’
His stare was vacant, but he did perk up when Arthur jumped up, resting his paws on the earl’s knees.
‘I’ll stay with him,’ she told Mrs Howard.
The housekeeper nodded. ‘I’ll put on tea and biscuits, then.’
Regina waited to see if the earl would speak, and when he did not, she enquired, ‘Would you like to go for a walk with Arthur and me?’
Again, he said nothing. The only sign that he heard anything was when he reached down to pet the dog’s head. Something had pulled him deep into memory, and Regina decided to confide in him.
‘Dalton has gone to London, to bring back my father. He left after we received some troubling news.’ She felt a slight chill and said, ‘If you still have your ship, I wouldn’t mind it if you sailed me to an island somewhere. As long as you bring Dalton along.’
It still pained her to remember the way he had looked at her when he’d learned that she had killed Mallencourt. As if she were some horrifying creature. A dark pain caught her with the fear that he wouldn’t want her any more.
Don’t think in that way, she warned herself. Find a way to win him back.
‘My sailing days are over, I fear, lassie,’ Lord Cairnross said.
‘Why do you say that?’ She studied his face carefully, and there did seem to be lucidity in his eyes.
‘I am weary. I miss my wife. I’m an old man, not good for much of anything any more. And some days, what is left of my mind goes wandering.’
‘I met you on one of those days, and I liked you very much,’ Regina said. ‘Come and walk with me. Tell me about Dalton when he was younger. How did he and Brandon get on?’ She touched his arm gently, and at last, he offered it. With the lead in one hand and her other hand resting on the crook of his arm, they began a slow walk.
‘Brandon was the perfect son; Dalton was the very devil. I liked them both, but my daughter much preferred her angel. Her heart broke when Brandon died, and it turned her husband against Dalton, too.
The Highlander and the Wallflower Page 19