by Laura Landon
Gabe pushed himself away from the table and stood tall. “Being responsible for another human being’s death is one of the tragedies of war. Every officer I know wishes it could be different, but it’s not.”
He stepped around the table and glared more intently. “If you are certain you have the Earl of Penderly’s grandson and the child won’t come to harm from the earl, you don’t have a choice but to hand him over. Not because you are responsible for Penderly’s son’s death and owe him a replacement. But because it’s the right thing to do.”
Austin stared at his friend for several long seconds. Finally, the meaning behind Gabe’s words hit him with their full weight. He was right. The babe would never replace the son Penderly lost. But Jonathan was Penderly’s flesh and blood and deserved to know his family. He deserved the love only a family could give him.
The fire was out in the grate and there was a slight chill in the room. He welcomed the cold. It settled over him like a cleansing freshness.
The sun was fading and the room had turned darker. Austin lit one of the lamps on the mantle. His hand shook and it took two attempts before the wick caught. “How do you erase their faces?” he asked when the slight glow caused shadows to dance on the walls.
“You don’t. They’ll always be with you. But, thankfully, so will the faces of the hundreds of men and boys who came home alive. We were responsible for their safe homecoming as well.”
Gabe poured a little more whiskey into each of their glasses. “On the way here, I met Frankie Leyward at the Drawn Bucket Inn. Do you remember him?”
Austin thought a moment before recognition dawned. “Yes, the redhead who was so good with horses.”
“That’s him. He’s in charge of the stable at the Bucket.” Gabe gave Austin a look he couldn’t ignore. “I like to think he’s alive because of what we did to help bring a quicker end to the war. He’s married with two redhead toddlers who look just like him.”
Austin had to smile.
“It will be Frankie Leyward I’ll remember when the faces of the soldiers who didn’t survive haunt me,” Gabe said with conviction.
The two men stared at each other. Austin knew there would be times when the men and boys who didn’t survive would haunt his memory, but maybe—just maybe, the happy faces of those who did survive and came home would outnumber those.
Gabe lifted his glass. “Sit down now and tell me what you intend to do. I know you have something in mind.”
Austin walked to the table and sat in his chair. The weight he carried suddenly seemed a little lighter.
Chapter 11
When Sarah finally opened her eyes it was dark outside. Two lamps flickered lazily, forming wavy circles on the ceiling and rough plastered walls. It took her a moment to remember where she was and why her shoulder ached when she moved. Then dread awakened as recollection of Lady Lydia’s words struck her like a splash of icy water thrown in her face.
“When you wake, you can tell me who you really are. Because you’re not Lady Fledgemont.”
Her gaze darted across the room and at first she thought she was alone. Then she saw him.
She expected Lady Lydia would be here, or perhaps one of her maids with instructions to wake her mistress when Sarah woke, but they weren’t. He was here—Austin—standing guard over her like he’d done continuously since he’d first found her. Except he wasn’t standing, he sat in the chair close to her bed with his gaze focused on her.
Her heart increased its steady rhythm. She was unable to see any sign that he knew she wasn’t who she pretended to be.
“How do you feel?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. The gentle rumble of its low timbre settled over her like a warm cover that wrapped protectively around her.
“Better.”
“Are you thirsty? Gabe was always thirsty after I’d given him laudanum.”
She nodded and he filled a glass with water and brought it to the bed. He sat down beside her and slid his arm beneath her shoulders, then lifted her to let her drink. When she finished, he lowered her back against the pillow and straightened the counterpane covering her. But he didn’t move away.
A second wave of fear washed over her. She had to know if he thought the same as his sister, had to know if Lady Lydia had told him what she suspected. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long.”
“Have you spoken with Lady Lydia?”
He shook his head. “She’d gone to bed before I arrived.”
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe—for at least a while longer.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“No, I’m awake now.”
“Good. We need to talk.”
He rested his hand over hers. She should pull her fingers away but she didn’t. She felt so safe when he was near her.
“Are we going to talk?” she asked. “Or are you going to tell me what plans you’ve made for me? And for Jonathan?”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to discuss the options you have available to you, the choices you have if you want to keep your son alive.”
“There is more than one?”
He released a sigh. “No.”
He moved his thumb in slow, lazy circles over her flesh.
“I won’t give Jonathan up,” she said when she could speak.
He lifted her hand and held it to his chest. “You will never have to give up your son. I will never allow that to happen. You have my promise.”
“Then allow me to leave with him.”
“I can’t.”
His refusal was so solid she couldn’t fight him. She turned her face from him. A light spilled into the room and Sarah focused on the open doorway. Lady Lydia and her husband stood there.
“Have you told him yet, my lady?” Lydia said after she entered the room.
Sarah’s heart thundered in her chest. A fear greater than any she’d fought before consumed her. What Austin’s sister suspected could destroy her as completely as facing the Earl of Penderly.
“Don’t you think it’s time he knows your secret?”
Austin placed her hand back on the bed and pulled away from her. Sarah suddenly felt alone—and frightened. A frown covered his face and Sarah saw nothing but mistrust in his expression.
Lady Lydia and the major focused on Sarah. Austin’s narrowed gaze followed. The menacing furrows on his forehead deepened.
“What secret is she talking about, my lady?”
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, praying like a child that when she opened them she and Austin would be alone in the room and he wouldn’t be staring at her with such a stark expression on his face. But that didn’t happen. When she searched the room, Lady Lydia sat in a chair her husband had placed by the bed.
The blood rushed from her face and the room spun in dizzying circles. Sarah knew she didn’t have a choice, knew that once she admitted that she wasn’t Lady Fledgemont, everything would change. Telling him she wasn’t who she claimed to be would destroy any chance she had of keeping Jonathan.
“Tell him,” Lady Lydia said. “He deserves to know.”
Austin rose from the bed and towered over her. His expression changed. A hard, immovable expression settled across his face, as if he was mentally preparing himself for whatever shocking revelation she was going to drop on him. “What does my sister know that I obviously don’t?”
Sarah opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Lydia reached out and grasped her hand.
“Would you like me to tell Austin what I think?” she whispered.
There was nothing malicious in Lady Lydia’s expression, only open kindness and compassion. She gently squeezed Sarah’s fingers in a show of support.
Sarah had no intention of crying. She hadn’t cried but once since the night they’d left Wakemoor and that was the day they’d buried Lady Fledgemont. But suddenly tears sprang to her eyes and one by one they spilled over her lashes. Sarah swiped them away with a determined slash.
When she lifted her gaze, she came face to face with Austin’s unyielding countenance.
“What has my sister discovered about you, my lady?”
Sarah swallowed hard and searched for the courage she needed. She relied on the fragile shreds of inner strength she had left to get her through this ordeal. “Would you help me to sit?” How could she face what was about to happen lying down? She couldn’t.
She waited for Captain Landwell to help her to a sitting position, then squared her shoulders as she prepared for battle. “Your sister doubts my identity, Captain.”
Austin’s confused gaze turned to where his sister sat beside the bed. “Liddy?”
“That’s true, Austin. I don’t believe the woman you know as Lady Fledgemont is who she claims to be.”
“Bloody hell, Liddy. Of course this is Lady Fledgemont. I followed her from Wakemoor to a house in London where she’d taken her son.”
Lady Lydia ignored her brother’s argument and kept her gaze riveted on Sarah. “Do you have papers to prove you are Lady Fledgemont?”
“For Heaven’s sake, Liddy. She doesn’t need papers. Penderly’s met her. He’ll recognize her immediately.”
“Is that true?” Lady Lydia asked. “Have you met Lord Penderly?”
“Of course she has,” Austin Landwell answered. “If you had asked, I would have told you as much.”
“Is that why you’re so desperate to avoid going to London?” Lydia asked. “Because you can’t risk a meeting with Lord Penderly?”
“Liddy, that’s enough,” Austin warned again, but this time Sarah heard the doubt in his voice.
“What about the babe? Do you have papers to prove Jonathan’s legitimacy?”
Austin stepped closer to his sister. “What are you suggesting, Liddy?”
“Austin.” Major Talbot held up his hand. He didn’t raise his voice when he spoke, but the authority in his tone was impossible to ignore. “Just hear Liddy out.”
Austin followed the major’s order. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for his sister to continue.
“I’m not suggesting anything, Austin,” she said. “I’m asking the first question I’m certain Lord Penderly will ask when he’s introduced to his grandson for the first time. He’ll want verification that Collette Flemming and his son married, and that the babe you have is their son. Especially when he meets the woman posing as his daughter-in-law and realizes she’s an imposter.” Liddy refocused her gaze on Sarah. “Do you have papers to prove Jonathan is the Earl of Penderly’s grandson?”
Sarah’s heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. If she refused to produce papers that proved Jonathan’s parentage, she would deny him his birthright and brand him a bastard. If she allowed Austin to take him to London and Penderly proved he wasn’t behind the attempts to kill the babe, Jonathan would be lost to her forever. The most she could ever hope was that the earl would allow her to stay to take care of his grandson until Jonathan no longer needed her.
Sarah pictured Jonathan’s plump arms and legs, his curly blond hair, his happy disposition. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the weight of his little body in her arms, feel his soft skin when he nestled beneath her chin, and hear his soft cooing sounds when he played.
A stabbing of regret seared her heart. She was nearing thirty years, far past the age when any man would want her for the mother of his children. Would it be asking so much of God to let her keep Jonathan? Would it be such a sin to claim him as her own?
A cold sweat covered her flesh as her conscience screamed an objection. Jonathan was Penderly’s heir. How could she live with herself if she kept him from his grandfather?
She lifted her gaze and found Austin watching her. His handsome face held the same features she was used to seeing, except now angry frown lines deepened across his forehead. His lips weren’t soft and slightly curved at the corners, but taut and pressed tightly together. The muscles on either side of his mouth bunched as he gritted his teeth in anger.
He doubted her identity. She prayed he’d believe her over his sister, but she could see he didn’t. His next question confirmed it.
“Do you have such papers, Lady Fledgemont? Or whoever you are?”
His midnight-blue eyes reflected an icy coldness that stole her breath.
Sarah’s conscience screamed a protest that she couldn’t ignore. If she revealed Jonathan’s true identity, she’d no longer have a claim to him. But could she live with herself if she lied? Refusing to produce the papers that proved Jonathan was the Earl of Penderly’s grandson would deprive him of the life he was meant to live. She couldn’t deny an innocent child his rightful place in the world.
“I do,” she whispered, knowing she’d condemned herself to a life without Jonathan. “But before I tell you where they’re hidden, promise me you won’t take him to Penderly until you know for sure who is trying to kill him.”
Austin’s gaze leveled with hers. “You have my promise. I would never risk the babe’s safety. Never.”
Sarah closed her eyes and prayed that showing him the papers was the right thing to do. “The papers are sewn into the hem of my cloak.”
Austin strode across the room and lifted her cloak from the hook on the wall. When he returned, he felt along the hem until he heard the rustle of papers. He opened the seam and a small bundle of neatly tied papers fell out.
A thin yellow ribbon held the documents together and he loosened the ribbon she’d tied around the documents, then opened the first paper and read it. “This is Jonathan’s birth record. He is indeed the son of Gregory Dunstan, Viscount Fledgemont, and Collette Flemming, Viscountess Fledgemont.”
Sarah recognized the flash of relief on Austin’s face. Having proof that Jonathan was the Earl of Penderly’s grandson was a victory in his battle with her. Or, maybe knowing that he’d be able to present Penderly with an heir was all that was important.
He handed Jonathan’s birth record over for his sister and Major Talbot to read, then unfolded the next sheet—the one that would convict her to a life alone.
“This is the marriage certificate that proves Collette Flemming and Gregory Dunstan were legally married.”
He read the paper again, then handed it to his sister. When Lady Lydia read the document, she calmly placed the paper in her lap and folded her hands over it. Her gaze slowly lifted. “Would you like to say something here,” she asked, “or do you intend to keep up this charade until the Earl of Penderly exposes you?”
Sarah thought she might be ill. She opened her mouth to speak but found it was impossible to utter any words. Nothing she said would allow her to keep Jonathan. She pressed her fist against the pain in her stomach.
A long uncomfortable silence stretched on. The sun had risen in the sky, but its rays that streamed through the window were not bright enough to reach her heart. From this day on her world would forever be a dark, lonely place.
Austin’s voice broke the silence. “What’s my sister talking about, Lady Fledgemont?”
She couldn’t breathe. She took in one huge gasp after another but there didn’t seem to be enough air to fill her lungs.
Austin reached for the papers on his sister’s lap and held them up. “Is this you? Are you Collette Flemming?”
His gaze narrowed and his jaw clenched. Muscles on either side of his face bunched with fury. Her deception was at an end. He was finally going to see her for the fraud she was—and he’d be unable to forgive her for making a fool of him.
Her eyes burned but she wouldn’t cry in front of him. If she started, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop. Her dreams were about to end. She was about to lose Jonathan.
He leveled her with an unrelenting glare that shot arrows barbed with loss through her.
“Is it?” he asked again.
The anger in his voice should have frightened her, but she wasn’t afraid of him. He wasn’t a violent man. Even when she’d pressed him to the limit of his patience, he’d been understandi
ng. He hadn’t raised his voice—until now.
“Are you?”
Sarah didn’t drop her gaze from his even though the frigid blue of his eyes pierced hers like shards of ice. When she could endure his hostile glare no longer, she uttered the only response she could.
“No.”
Chapter 12
Sarah stared at his retreating back as he walked away from her. The sun was well up now. Glowing rays of brilliant sunlight streamed through the window, turning his hair a vibrant gold that glimmered as if on fire.
Even angry he was still one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. His tall, broad-shouldered physique filled the window from side to side, exemplifying the strength and commanding presence on which she’d come to rely. He’d walked away from her to show her he was physically and emotionally separating himself from her. She knew she deserved his anger, but a part of her ached so much from her own loss she couldn’t find it within herself to understand how he might be feeling. Or care.
Because of Austin Landwell and the intense loyalty he felt to the Earl of Penderly, she’d lost Jonathan.
She waited for him to face her. When he did, she wished he hadn’t. Gone was the soft gentleness she’d once seen in his eyes. Gone was the warmth. In its place, the glaring hardness told her he wouldn’t allow her close to him again. The chill in his voice reinforced that assumption.
“Who are you?”
She faced him with all the confidence she could muster. “Sarah Bentley.”
“Lady Fledgemont’s maid?”
Sarah stiffened her resolve. “Yes, Captain. The maid.”
“Sarah,” Lady Lydia said in a tone more gentle than the clipped words her brother had used. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”