Secret Promise

by Marin McGinnis

  “First, though, come meet my new family.” She placed her hand in his and turned to the other two women in the room, whom Edward hadn’t even noticed before. The younger one was squirming with so much anticipation he thought she might fall off the settee.

  Theodora gestured to the older, remarkably attractive woman, perhaps in her late forties, with striking auburn hair. “This is my mother-in-law, Judith Tenwick, Countess of Longley.” Theodora beamed at the countess with what Edward sensed was genuine fondness. She turned toward the squirmy one, a girl of maybe fifteen. “And this is my sister-in-law, Lady Julia. Judith, Julia, this is…” She broke off and turned at the sound of the door opening.

  “And I am her husband,” a man announced as he strode into the room. He placed his arm possessively around Theodora and tried to look down at Edward, but they were the same height. Edward tried hard to look stern, but he was too happy. Inside he felt nearly as wiggly as Lady Julia, but on the outside he stood his ground as Dora’s husband sized him up.

  Theodora seemed amused. “Edward, this is my husband, Jonathan Tenwick. Darling, this is my brother.”

  Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Your long lost brother, Edward? The one you were going to chase down in America if you hadn’t succumbed to my charms?”

  Edward blinked. The sense that he had missed two acts of a play on a stage before him was somewhat overwhelming.

  Theodora swatted her husband playfully. “Yes, the very same.” She ducked out from under her husband’s arm and went to Edward’s side and hugged him again. “Edward, I do have to say it again. Where have you been?”

  “Theodora, dear, why don’t you offer your prodigal brother a drink and a chair?” the countess asked. She came over to him and extended a hand, which he shook.

  Theodora blushed, and it occurred to Edward he probably should have kissed her hand, but apparently he’d been in America too long. The countess just laughed and said, “Please do sit down, Mr. Mason. Theodora has told us quite a bit about you. I am surprised and delighted you are here.” She settled on the settee and patted the seat beside her.

  “Thank you, Lady Longley.” Edward sat next to her. Theodora watched him closely, and when her eyes met his, he winked, just as he’d done when they were children. Theodora started to laugh, and then to cry, collapsing onto the floor in front of him amid great gulping sobs that clearly unnerved her husband. Lady Longley patted her back maternally while Jonathan stood there looking helpless.

  “There, there, my dear. You’ve had a great shock, and you are of course unusually emotional.” She rubbed Theodora’s back in big circles, and Theodora finally calmed down enough to turn weepy eyes on Edward.

  “I thought you were lost. Why did you never write to me, why did my own letters come back? Where have you been?” Her lips trembled in another prelude to tears, so Edward grabbed her hand in both of his own and got down on the floor next to her, holding her close.

  “Ah, Dora, sweet. It’s a very long tale. For now I shall just say that my journey to America did not go as planned, and it took me a long time to make my way back to you. I stopped in London first and was a bit surprised to find a burned out shell of a house where you used to live. A boy named John sends his regards, by the way. Says he learned to read.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Theodora flushed with pleasure, cleverly avoiding the subject of the house, and rested her head on Edward’s shoulder.

  “Then I went to Tynemouth and found another burned shell.”

  Theodora began to cry again in earnest, but it was different this time. These were tears of heartrending grief that chilled Edward to the bone. He kissed the top of her head, held her close until the tears subsided.

  “I’m so sorry, Dora. So sorry that I left you alone.”

  The viscount grunted his opinion of his wife’s first husband. Clearly he was aware of what had happened; undoubtedly he knew much more than Edward. He decided he liked this new brother-in-law.

  Dora was now calm and unnaturally pale, even for her, and her husband bent down and helped her rise. Dora smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek. For a moment the two of them seemed oblivious to everyone else in the room. Edward felt a pang of jealousy.

  “It all turned out well in the end.” Theodora turned to Edward and held out her hand to pull him to his feet. “Especially now that you are here.”

  “Theodora, love,” Lord Caxton said gently. “I think it’s time you retired. You need some rest.” A pleading expression on his handsome face, he turned to Edward. “The excitement of seeing you is too much for her, in her condition. You’ll stay with us, though, won’t you? For a little while? Theodora will want to spend some time with you. As will I,” he said, his gaze turning hard.

  Edward gave a brief bow. “Of course. We’ll talk later, Dora. Get some rest.” He kissed her cheek. She gave him a weak smile through the still falling tears and allowed her husband to lead her away. He watched her leave and sat again, only then remembering there were others in the room. Lady Longley and her daughter were regarding him curiously. The countess gave her daughter a stern look and instructed her to go to bed.

  “But it’s too early!”

  “Well, then, read a book or something.” Lady Longley’s exasperation was apparent in her voice. “I need to speak with your new brother-in-law.”

  Edward rose and bowed to Lady Julia, then returned to his seat as the girl flounced out of the room, glaring at her mother. He rubbed his forehead wearily and ran a hand through his hair. “I believe this day has been rather exciting for me as well. Might I trouble you for the refreshment you offered earlier, Lady Longley?”

  “I’m sure it has.” She chuckled softly and rose to pour his drink.

  He was interested to see that; although his brushes with the upper echelons of the aristocracy were limited, he was fairly certain that countesses did not often fetch drinks for mere…barons. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that.

  His astonishment must have shown on his face, for Lady Longley held a glass of whisky in front of him with some concern. “All you all right, Mr. Mason?”

  “Yes, thank you, my lady. I have just remembered that I am a baron. I keep forgetting.”

  Lady Longley sipped from her own glass. “Ah, yes, that’s right. Theodora did tell me she was the daughter of a baron. You seem rather surprised.”

  “I was in America for a long time, and the Americans have very little interest in titles. And well, when I left, my father was very much alive.” They were both quiet for a moment, comfortable with silence.

  Finally, Edward asked, “Lady Longley, I heard some rather outlandish tales in the pub. Was it really as bad as they say? For Dora, I mean?”

  The countess put down her glass and regarded him seriously. “You’ll need ask her that question, but yes, I believe it was every bit as bad as you probably heard, possibly worse. Lucien Ravensdale was a brutal man. But she is happy now, I think. My son is not perfect, but he is a good man, and he loves her very much.”

  “Did she kill Lucien?”

  “My husband tells me they struggled with the gun and it went off, striking Ravensdale in the chest. She never would have killed him intentionally, though he would have destroyed her in the end. It is a wonder to me that she did not try to escape before she did. Six years is a long time to be a man’s slave.”

  Lady Longley stood then. “Although we do our best to be Theodora’s family, it is good that you are here. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.” She cocked her head and looked at him curiously. “But something tells me that won’t be very long. You have unfinished business in Northumberland. Someone waits for you there?”

  Edward’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

  Lady Longley shrugged and said nothing, a secret smile playing on her lips.

  “I have not yet told Dora, but I learned recently I have a son.”

  Lady Longley’s eyes widened. “I imagine that was a surprise.”

  “Indeed.�
�

  “And the boy’s mother?”

  “She remains unmarried. She’s made a good life for them both, despite the scandal.” He sipped from his glass and stared into the amber liquid as if there might be an answer within it.

  “You worry there is no room for you in that life.”

  He smiled. “You are quite possibly the most intuitive person I’ve ever met, my lady.”

  She chuckled. “I’ve heard that before.” She rose and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Please stay at least through tomorrow. Otherwise Theodora will chase after you, and that is hardly a good idea. She has not had an easy pregnancy.”

  Edward’s heart thumped in his chest. “Will she…”

  “She’ll be fine. And so will you. And your lady, and your son. Good night, Edward. Welcome home.”

  She left the room while he tried to think of something to say in response. He was still thinking, staring into the fire in the hearth, when the butler came in to show him to his room.

  ****

  Edward had tossed and turned for some time, not falling asleep until nearly dawn. He was deep into a dream about Anna on the cliffs when something started to tickle his face. It felt like a feather, and he batted it away. It continued to tickle him, girlishly giggling. It occurred to him that feathers didn’t normally giggle, and his eyes flew open. His sister was perched on the edge of the bed, tickling his chin with a quill. He smiled wryly.

  “Does your husband know you’re here, Dora? It’s most unseemly to be in a gentleman’s chamber at this hour of the night.”

  “It’s almost noon, silly, and you’re my brother, so it hardly matters. I have seen you in your unmentionables more times than I can count.”

  “Well, you’re not going to see them today!” Edward laughed, swatting at the feather. “Go away, Dora. I’ll come down for luncheon.”

  “We’re going to have a picnic, just we two. I wanted you all to myself for a bit.”

  “That sounds lovely, but only if you promise to stop tickling me.”

  Theodora flounced off the bed, or whatever passed for a flounce in a hugely pregnant woman, and turned at the door. “I make no promises if you aren’t downstairs in five minutes.” Then she was gone in a whirlwind of purple muslin, the scent of lavender water all that remained to convince him he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing.

  It was a bit surreal, being back in England, his newly remarried sister pregnant, his parents dead. A son. It had never really occurred to him that things might have changed here during the years he was gone. But the dream was what he had needed to keep him alive. Had he known what had happened when he was prison, he may never have made it out.

  He shook off his musings, rose, and began his morning ablutions. He’d better get dressed. Theodora probably hadn’t been kidding.

  Chapter Nine

  Anna’s guilt kept her awake half the night. That and the feelings Edward had reawakened. Once she had finally fallen asleep, she had an erotic dream so real that when she was startled awake by Zachary, she gasped in shock, afraid he’d see Edward in the bed with her. Unfortunately, she was alone.

  Still alone.

  After getting Zach ready for school, she bundled some scones into a basket and walked over to the shipyards. Instead of Edward, though, she found Weston.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I was waiting for Lord Tisdale, but it appears he is still abed.” Weston looked her up and down, a grimace on his face. Her skin crawled. “Or perhaps not.” She had to force herself not to shudder.

  “Then I suggest you leave the premises, Mr. Weston,” a voice said from behind her, and she whirled around. It was Austin Caldwell, the foreman. He was so large that even Anna, no shrinking violet, felt dwarfed. Most people knew that for all his size he was one of the gentlest men in town. Weston did not appear to be one of those people; either that or he sensed Caldwell wasn’t feeling particularly gentle.

  Weston smiled ingratiatingly at Caldwell, leered at Anna, and left the office without saying a word. Caldwell followed him down the stairs, then returned quickly.

  “Are you all right, Miss Templeton?” Caldwell asked when Weston’s footfalls had receded.

  “I am fine, thank you, Mr. Caldwell.” She held up the basket. “I was looking for Ed…Lord Tisdale. Do you know where he is?”

  “He went to Durham this morning. Said he’d be back tomorrow.”

  Anna gaped at him, her mind racing. Durham? Why? Was he angry with her? She would have been angry, were their situations reversed.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Caldwell asked politely.

  “Uh, no.” She shook her head, then looked down at the basket she held. She gestured with it. “Would you like some scones? Please share them with the others, if you like.”

  Caldwell grinned. “I don’t think there will be any left for them. Ta, Miss Templeton.”

  She smiled and handed him the basket. “You’re welcome.” She started for the door.

  “Should I tell his lordship that you called?” Caldwell asked.

  She stopped and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, thank you. I am sure I will see him the next time he stops in the pub.”

  Caldwell had fished one of the scones out of the basket with one large paw. He took an enormous bite and nodded happily, unaware of Anna’s departure.

  She didn’t know what to make of the fact Edward had left town so soon after arriving, so soon after spending so much time with her—his—son. She stood there in the street, lost in thought, until she was jostled by the umbrella of a passer-by. She hadn’t even noticed it was raining.

  ****

  Theodora led Edward into a walled garden. There were elaborate paths marking off sections filled with colorful blooms. Theodora walked into what appeared to be the center, a grassy area with a rowan tree in the middle, and knelt beside the tree, settling a blanket onto the grass.

  Edward smiled and rubbed his hand along the bark. “A rowan tree. Who is trying to please the fairies?”

  “Judith planted it, years ago. She has a rather whimsical nature.”

  Edward sat beside her and reclined on the blanket, folding his arms behind his head. He gazed up at the cloudless sky for a moment, then turned to regard his sister, who was unpacking a picnic basket onto a blanket.

  “This is a lovely spot, Dora,” he said.

  She smiled. “It’s my favorite place to relax and be alone. I don’t come here very often, though. I seldom feel the need to be alone.”

  He turned away and looked at the sky again. He waited quietly, knowing she would begin when she was ready. She sat beside him and leaned against the tree.

  “Maybe,” she began, “it’s because I spent so much time alone when I was married to Lucien. We had such a wonderful time on our honeymoon. He was so attentive, affectionate. Then we returned to London, and I discovered our parents had died.”

  She sighed. “He refused to let me travel to Northumberland to visit their graves, tend to the estate. He said we’d go together soon, when he was able to get away from chambers again. But the days stretched into weeks. Months. He began to hit me. Just occasionally at first, when he had had a hard day in court, or he was displeased with me about something. But then it became more regular. Every day there was something which displeased him; there was no telling what would set him off. He began to worry that someone would hear, so he dismissed the staff. He forbade me to leave the house. He had accounts with the grocer, the butcher, and ordered everything to be delivered. He required me to cook for him and hit me when the meals weren’t to his liking.”

  Edward’s stomach clenched with anger and not a little guilt. He sat up and faced her, and took her hands into his own. “Theodora, for God’s sake. Why did you stay?”

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I was alone; my family was gone. I had no means to leave, and nowhere to go even if I did. He was a lawyer, Edward, one of the best. Abuse of that sort is not grounds for div
orce, and he would have killed me if I’d tried.”

  “So how did you escape? Did you kill him?”

  She blushed faintly but kept her head high. “I saw an ad in the Times for a cook. On a whim, I decided to answer it, under a false name. You remember Grandmother’s dog?”

  Edward snorted. “Matilda? You named yourself after a bad-tempered dachshund?”

  Dora leaned forward, smiling, and swatted him with one hand. “Don’t laugh! It was the first name that popped into my head.”

  She leaned back against the tree and sobered. “Somehow I was offered the post. I made plans to fake my own death, to throw myself into the Thames and swim away unnoticed.”

  “A sensible plan.” Edward’s heart tightened to think of Dora planning her own death, even if she didn’t intend it to be real.

  She scowled at him. “Stop interrupting, Edward. This is hard enough as it is. Before I could put my plan into action, the kitchen caught fire late one night, and I took advantage of it. I fled to Durham, hoping Lucien would believe me dead in the fire.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Dora,” Edward said softly.

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Lucien found me here. I don’t know how, but he did. He shot Jonathan, tried to take me away at gunpoint. We struggled and the gun went off. He died.”

  Edward suspected there was rather more to it than that but left it alone for the moment. He was trying to decide how to change the subject when Dora said, in a falsely bright tone, “Shall we eat, then?”

  He smiled wryly at her. “If you like.”

  “I do. You will need a full stomach to tell me where the hell you have been for the last seven years, Edward.” She glared at him, and he laughed.

  “Such language!”

  Dora busied herself with plating the chicken, bread, and cheese, and then poured him a glass of wine. She poured herself a small glass as well and sipped it cautiously, as if gathering courage for what Edward was going to tell her. He did the same, and they ate in silence for a few moments.