The Sweetest Sin

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The Sweetest Sin Page 6

by Kelly Boyce


  Alex shrugged and swallowed the bacon, reaching for another piece. “Well, he was an ass.”

  “And Walkerton? What is your objection to him?”

  Alex stumbled over an answer. Or rather the first answer that jumped to mind as it seemed a rather silly one and yet it was the only one that came to him. “He does not love her.”

  James barked out a laugh. “This coming from you? The man who believes marriage to be a business transaction and nothing more? Did you love Ruth?”

  Alex fell silent for a moment and James jumped in before he could answer. “Forgive me. That was unkind. Of course, you did.”

  And he had. At least in the beginning, before the vows were spoken and her true nature revealed. Even then, he thought her beauty and poise would make up for her insecurities and neediness. But after Edward died, everything changed. It was as if all the feelings Alex possessed were buried with his son, wrapped around his tiny body to keep him warm. To let him know that even though he was here but a short time, he’d been loved. As a result, Alex had nothing left for Ruth. She’d begged for his affection for a little while, but eventually she had stopped. He’d been grateful for the reprieve, until he’d discovered the reason why.

  Alex shook his head. “By the end, I was not capable of loving anyone, least of all Ruth. And so she found someone who did.”

  “Do you truly believe the late Lord Hawksmoor loved her? I don’t think the man was capable of such soft emotion. Or any emotion, unless conquest could be counted as one. Everything was a contest to him and he was willing to win at any cost.”

  Alex nodded and an empty pit opened up in his stomach. “She was nothing more than a prize to him, though she seemed blind to this fact. I wonder at the end, when he tired of her…stole the life from her, if she understood the truth of this. I almost hope she didn’t.”

  They both fell silent. Most members of the ton believed Ruth’s death to have been a tragic accident. Perhaps a few entertained the notion that she may have taken her own life, despondent over the loss of her son. But only a small handful knew the true cause—she had been murdered.

  “Either way, perhaps now she has found some peace and is with Edward,” James said, cutting through the pall their conversation had cast over the breakfast room.

  Was it wrong that instead of peace at such an image, Alex felt only envy?

  “Regardless, I suppose you will soon have yourself a brother.”

  James flashed him a false smile but Alex only managed a grimace in return. The idea of Lady Henrietta’s potential impending marriage did not sit right with him, though why, he could not say, exactly, as he had no sword in this fight.

  Chapter Five

  “Good afternoon, Goodwin,” Alex said, handing off his gloves and hat to his father’s butler.

  The older man nodded. “My lord.” If the butler was surprised to see him, he covered it with far more success than Alex’s stepmother.

  “Alexander? Whatever are you doing here?”

  Alex looked up to where his stepmother, Laura, stood at the top of the stairwell that led up from the front hall to the main floor. “It’s good to see you as well, my lady.”

  “Oh, pish. You know I am quite happy to see you. We simply had no idea you were coming to London. Why did you not send word? I would have arranged a dinner. A party. Something.”

  “Which is exactly why I did not send word. Is my father about?”

  “He stepped out. He’ll be back shortly.” Laura looked past him and confusion filled her pretty visage. For a woman leaning against fifty, she still retained much of the loveliness from her youth, save for a few lines around the eyes and the beginning of grooves near her mouth. None of which detracted from her overall beauty.

  “Where is little Margaret? Have you not brought her with you?”

  Alex had been prepared for the question but braced himself as he answered just the same, knowing it would cause disappointment and potentially resentment when his reasons for Margaret’s absence were revealed. “I have. She will be staying at Harrow House for the time being.”

  Laura took a step back as if he’d slapped her. “At Harrow House? Why, whatever for?”

  “Because I have deemed it so. Are we going to continue this conversation with the staircase between us or are you going to invite me to the receiving room?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Alexander. This is your home as much as mine. You do not require an invitation to go anywhere. Come,” she motioned for him to come upstairs. He took the stairs at a sedate pace, not looking forward to the forthcoming conversation. Laura led the way to her small, private salon that overlooked the street below. Father had suggested she might prefer a view of the gardens, but Alex’s stepmother eschewed the idea, indicating she liked to see what was going on and with whom, as one never knew when such information might be useful.

  Whether such was still the case now that Laura seemed determined to redeem herself from the self-serving woman she had once been, Alex had no idea. Nor did he care. He didn’t yet trust the new version of Lady Franklyn as a permanent one. She had always been a changeable sort, affectionate one moment, then cold and remote the next. As a young boy, he never knew which version of his stepmother would appear at any given time and so he had kept a wide berth, preferring distance to uncertainty.

  Alex waited for Laura to be seated on the sofa before he took a seat opposite her in one of the softly cushioned chairs. A bad choice. He sank so deeply into it, he may need to vault himself forward if he had any hope of a fast escape in the event Laura’s irritation with him got the best of her and a messy scene ensued. He did so despise such displays.

  “Now, what is this nonsense about leaving Lady Margaret with the Harrows?”

  Now that Alex sat but ten feet from his stepmother, he noted she appeared tired, as if she had not slept well for several nights. Then again, it was the beginning of the Season and late nights were a regular occurrence.

  “It is not nonsense. I simply believe the atmosphere at Harrow House, and the influence of Lady Dalridge and Lady Henrietta in particular, will be a more positive influence on her.”

  “Positive influence? Is such required?”

  Alex let out a heavy breath. He disliked admitting his failure in this regard, but there was little to be done about it. Lady Margaret’s bad behavior was evidenced by his return to London to find a new nanny yet again. “We have lost yet another nanny and I tire of this constant upheaval in my household. It is my hope that Lady Henrietta’s calm and positive influence might help teach Lady Margaret a different way.” Despite his dislike of Lady Henrietta pointing out his own shortcomings when it came to Lady Margaret, he could not deny his daughter appeared to take a strong liking to James’s sister.

  As he’d expected, Laura did not take the news of his decision well. Her eyes flashed with anger and Alex braced himself for what might come. “In what way would Lady Henrietta prove a more positive influence than myself or your father?”

  Alex gave his stepmother a pointed look. “It is not necessarily your or Father’s influence I am concerned with.” The name he hadn’t mentioned hung heavy in the air between them. It was no secret he held little fondness for his half sister, nor she for him.

  His stepmother’s anger deflated and when she spoke, her voice was laden with guilt. “I have spoken to Lady Susan with respect to her behavior toward Lady Henrietta.”

  “Then your words have had little effect.” And why would they, given the daughter merely parroted the mother’s past conduct. Though his sister had taken such behavior to a whole new level. “Are you aware of what occurred at Lord and Lady Beresford party?”

  Laura’s cheeks burned a guilty red, emphasizing a hint of gauntness that took him by surprise. The back of Alex’s neck prickled.

  “I only just learned about that particular instance the other day, when Lady Dalridge came to pay a call. I have offered to apologize to Lady Henrietta, but the viscountess suggested it was too little too late.�


  “And she would be correct in her claim. The damage has already been done. Susan’s harsh treatment left Lady Henrietta hurt and humiliated. As if she has not suffered enough in her short life.” Anger crept up slowly as he spoke then sprinted to the finish.

  Despite their rather rocky re-introduction to one another, he loathed that Lady Henrietta had been subjected to such behavior over something she could not control. Nor could he wrest the image from his mind of her burned and battered body as he kept watch over her, fearful she would succumb to her injuries before her brother arrived.

  James was right. Lady Henrietta deserved a better life than the one she had. She deserved a life filled with happiness and love and whatever else her heart desired. Others may look upon her scars as ugly or think her damaged, but when Alex saw them, they only served to remind him of a young girl of remarkable spirit who had overcome obstacles that would have felled a far stronger man.

  Perhaps if he’d possessed even half of the internal fortitude as Lady Henrietta, he would have come through his own trials and tribulations far more intact, instead of bitter and broken inside.

  “I will not allow Susan’s behavior to continue. I am going to have a discussion with Father on the matter and take it in hand once and for all.”

  “Please, do not bother your father with such trivialities,” Laura said, a hand worrying the jewel hanging around her neck. Was she thinner than upon his last visit? The prickling at the back of his neck increased, demanding his attention.

  “Are you well?” The words were out of his mouth before he could call them back. They did not have the type of relationship where he inquired about her health as if such was of importance to him. It wasn’t that he wished her ill, just that…well, they were not close, despite her recent overtures to change that. Trust was not a bridge built swiftly with him.

  Laura stammered out a reply as if taken off guard by the inquiry. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m fine. And you?”

  “I am well.” He narrowed his gaze. Laura fidgeted beneath his scrutiny. Odd for a woman who could give lessons in poise and inscrutability. The prickling skipped down his spine and wheedled its way into his gut. Something wasn’t right. “Where was it you said Father had gotten off to?”

  Laura waved a hand. “Business of some sort. I don’t pay attention to such things.”

  Except that she did. His stepmother was in firm possession of a sharp and sound mind. Where many women did not bother with that aspect of their husband’s lives, Laura was an anomaly. She not only involved herself in it but, according to his father, gave her opinion on matters of business freely and without provocation, her insight often proving of benefit to him.

  “And Father is well?”

  Laura’s gaze skidded away and landed on the fire burning in the hearth off to her right. When she looked back to him, her smile was fixed firmly in place. “He’s fit as a fiddle.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows. Now there was an expression he’d never heard his stepmother issue before. “Is he?”

  “Indeed.” Her smile stretched farther but never reached her eyes. In her eyes he saw only fear. Alex’s guts began to churn.

  “Laura, what the deuce is going on?” Alex stressed her name. He rarely used it when he referred to her directly. It implied a closeness they did not share. Still, in this case, he felt it warranted. “What is it you are not telling me?”

  “My boy! Goodwin said you were here, but I thought for certain the man had to be hallucinating.”

  Alex stood as the sound of his father’s boisterous voice filled the room. He appeared as robust as usual, but something around the edges caught Alex’s heightened attention. The gregariousness sounded…forced. And when had his father taken to using a cane? What the bloody hell was going on here?

  “My trip was unplanned,” Alex said, turning in full to face his father. He motioned toward the cane. “Have you hurt yourself?”

  His father waved him off. “Oh, just an old injury acting up. Nothing to worry yourself over. Should be right as rain in a week or two. Now where is that beautiful granddaughter of mine?”

  Before Alex could answer or inquire further over his father’s supposed injury, his stepmother cut in. “Alexander has determined she is to stay with the Harrows.”

  The great Duke of Franklyn straightened to his full height, which was several inches below that of Alex’s six feet, yet still managed to exude authority. “With Ridgemont? Whatever for?”

  Again Alex’s stepmother beat him to the punch. “He apparently feels Lady Henrietta to be a better influence on her.”

  His father’s shoulders slumped and Alex had the sudden sensation that it was more from the fatigue of holding himself upright than the news his only son thought Franklyn House an unsuitable environment for Lady Margaret.

  “Sit down, Father.” Alex motioned to the chair next to him and his father made his way over to it without argument. Were his steps slower than usual, or was Alex’s worry playing tricks on him?

  Once situated, his father addressed the matter. “Now what is this nonsense about Lady Margaret being kept under any other roof but this one?”

  Alex took a deep breath. He didn’t wish to upset his father. “I have been informed of Susan’s behavior toward Lady Henrietta. Until my sister learns to curb her spitefulness, I have no wish for Lady Margaret to be around her. I have my hands full enough as it is.”

  His father’s mouth twitched. “Is she still giving you a tough go then?”

  Why did everyone else find Lady Margaret’s behavior amusing save for him? And, of course, Lord and Lady Ottley, but that was another matter and not one he cared to give any credence to.

  “She has scared off yet another nanny,” Alex admitted. “I am at my wit’s end with her. And given she appears quite taken with Lady Henrietta, I am hopeful the young woman’s good nature imprints itself on Margaret to the benefit of us all.”

  “The girl is a little spirited, Alexander. There is nothing wrong with that,” Laura said.

  Alex gritted his teeth. He grew tired of everyone trying to tell him what he should and should not worry about when it came to Lady Margaret. They did not have to live with her. She was beyond spirited. It was as if she made it her mission in life to bring him grief. “You will excuse me, my lady, if I do not take your counsel on the matter, given your own daughter’s behavior has been nothing short of abominable.”

  Laura’s face tightened at his harsh words but she did not argue his claim.

  “Alexander,” his father warned.

  Alex sat back in his chair and said nothing more on the matter, but nor did he apologize for the truth of his statement.

  “Regardless,” Laura said, breaking the tension. “I would think Lady Henrietta would be too busy with the Season to have time for Lady Margaret. Rumor has it that the viscountess and Lord Ridgemont are determined to see her married this Season.”

  A hint of anger colored his stepmother’s words. But why? What possible reason would she have to care about any plan to see Lady Henrietta married? After all, wasn’t that the goal of anyone with an unwed female of marriageable age under their roof? “Is that so? And who has been spreading these rumors?”

  Laura straightened her skirts and pressed her hands against the expensive silk. “One hears things. Though I understand they may have reached an early success in this regard.”

  “In what way?”

  “Young Walkerton,” his father answered. “It appears he plans to court the young lady proper with, one can only assume, the purpose of proposing soon thereafter.”

  The news took Alex aback. Walkerton had only just been to see James earlier in the day. How could news have traveled so quickly? And if they knew, who else had been informed? If word got out that Lady Henrietta had sent Walkerton a letter of proposal, she would be ruined. Even if Walkerton agreed to a marriage in the end to save them both the scandal, it would cast a pall over the union and cause Lady Henrietta even more humiliation.

 
; “How did you come by this information?”

  “From Lord Walkerton himself,” Laura said. “Miles—Lord Walkerton—has become a friend of sorts.”

  Alex’s eyebrows lifted until he felt the strain of holding them there. Given his stepmother’s former penchant for selecting young men of the ton as her paramours, he did not care for this news, nor would James. Though such an idea was at odds with Walkerton’s reputation as a man who avoided scandal as if it was the plague.

  “And how did this friendship come about?” Alex’s father had spoken to him briefly following the death of the previous Lord Walkerton the year before, and the man’s connection to Laura years previous to this, though he did so with broad strokes and Alex was left with the impression there was much more to the story than his father told. Regardless, given what little he did know, it surprised him that Laura would associate with the man’s son.

  Laura picked at the floral embroidery on the skirt of her dress. “He came by not too long ago to apologize for his father’s past…behavior. I thought it quite brave of him, even if wholly unnecessary, but I appreciated it, nonetheless.”

  “We both did,” his father chimed in. “Walkerton is a good man. I will not hold the sins of the father against the son. Young Walkerton is doing his best to make amends, to do good works in order to wipe away the stain left behind by his father. I am much impressed by him.”

  Alex would not be surprised if by the end of this conversation his father and stepmother did not anoint Walkerton with sainthood. “Is that so?”

  He did not particularly find anything about the new Lord Walkerton overly interesting. Yes, he was a far sight better than his reprehensible sire, but his active avoidance of anything even remotely scandalous made him a bit dull in Alex’s estimation. Not that he would want the man courting scandal if he was also courting Lady Henrietta, but it was as if Walkerton had never had a chance to live a little before tying himself down to a staid and proper life. Not that Alex was one to talk, given he was but one and twenty when he married Ruth. Would things have been different had he taken the time to sow a few more wild oats?

 

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