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His Scandalous Kiss: Secrets at Thorncliff Manor: 6

Page 24

by Sophie Barnes


  “Here is another option for you to consider,” Lady Oakland said as she handed Mary what had to be the hundredth fashion plate. “The gown will take at least two weeks to complete so it is imperative that you make your decision today so there can also be time for a fitting.”

  Seated to her right, Richard said nothing as he turned the page of his newspaper. He was almost completely hidden away behind it, leaving Mary with the trying task of dealing with his overexcited mother and siblings. Annoying man. Which was probably why she couldn’t help herself from saying, “While I truly appreciate your suggestions, Lady Oakland, there is a very good chance that I will not be requiring a new gown.”

  Lady Oakland’s eyes widened with apparent dismay, as did her daughters’. Beside Mary, Richard stilled. Clearly he had not been so engrossed in his paper as to miss out on the conversation. “What on earth do you mean?” Lady Oakland asked. “Of course you must have a new gown for your wedding. It is certainly not an expense that Richard would be unwilling to spend. Is it, Richard?”

  “Not at all, Mama,” Richard said, lowering his paper.

  “Then it is settled,” Lady Oakland declared.

  Turning to Richard, Mary gave him a beseeching look. His mouth tightened a little around the corners but then he reached for Mary’s hand and nodded before addressing his mother. “If I may make a suggestion, I think it might be wise to postpone any further wedding preparations until we are sure that there will in fact be a wedding.”

  Silence fell upon the room, followed by a collective, “What?” from Lady Oakland and her daughters.

  Richard cleared his throat. “Three weeks seems like an eternity, Mama, so I have taken it upon myself to request a special license. We plan to marry as soon as it arrives, which will likely be long before any gown you plan on ordering for Mary could be ready.”

  “But . . .” Lady Oakland looked from Richard to Mary and then back again.

  Eventually Fiona made her opinion on the matter known by saying, “First Chloe and now you, Richard. How utterly disappointing.”

  “I apologize,” he said, “but one day you will understand.”

  “And when exactly were you planning on sharing this decision with us?” Emily inquired, crossing her arms in protest.

  “As soon as the special license was in hand,” Richard said, glancing at Mary with some disapproval.

  She responded with a shrug.

  “Well,” Rachel said, speaking up for the first time, “One cannot fault you for your efficiency.”

  Biting their lips, Laura, Chloe and Emily dropped their gazes to the floor. If Mary wasn’t mistaken, the sisters were doing their best to refrain from laughing. Lady Oakland, however, looked quite appalled, but rather than comment on Rachel’s indelicate remark, she asked Mary, “Is your aunt aware of this decision of yours?”

  “Not yet,” Mary admitted, “but I do believe that her eagerness to see me settled will offset any misgivings that she may have about a hasty marriage.”

  “I see,” Lady Oakland said. She studied Mary and Richard for a long, almost awkward moment, before finally slumping back against her seat with a sigh. “Well, I suppose it is your decision.” She punctuated her statement with an elaborate wave of her hand. “Shall we ring for some more tea?”

  Mary blinked. This conversation had certainly gone a lot better than she had expected and with far less resistance.

  “I think I would prefer a glass of brandy,” Richard said. Rising, he went to ring for a maid before making his way over to the sideboard. The order for a fresh pot of tea was placed moments later, arriving shortly after that.

  “You ought to be relieved, Mama,” Richard’s sister, the Duchess of Stonegate, said as she reached for a sweetmeat. “To arrange one wedding is a task, but to arrange three? If you ask me, you are fortunate to have a daughter and a son who are willing to forego such planning not to mention the expense.”

  Lady Oakland barely had time to respond to that remark before a knock sounded at the door. The Thorncliff butler, Mr. Caine, entered the room. “Please excuse the intrusion,” he said, “but a gentleman has just arrived.” He looked toward Mary. “He claims to be your brother, Lady Mary. Shall I show him in?”

  “Oh, by all means, please do,” she said with unhindered excitement. As foolish as Andrew could be, he was still her brother after all. They had grown up together and she loved him with all her heart—even if it was clear that he had taken advantage of her kindness over the years. But all of that would change now the moment she got married. Richard would help Andrew become a better man and all would be well.

  She reached for Richard’s hand as she rose to her feet. He got up as well, standing solidly by her side as the door opened again and Andrew entered the room.

  The moment he saw Mary, a broad smile lit up his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief just as she remembered. Releasing Richard’s hand, she hurried over to her brother. “I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have come.”

  Taking her hands in his, he bowed his head to kiss her knuckles. “How can I stay away when you intend to wed? I cannot possibly allow you to do such a thing without making the acquaintance of the lucky man who has won your heart.”

  Stepping back from Andrew, Mary turned to face the Heartlys, their expressions warm and welcoming—all except for Richard’s. His features were set in rigid lines, his mouth drawn tight and his eyes like two angry storm clouds bearing down on Andrew. “You,” was all he said.

  Looking toward Richard, Andrew dropped Mary’s hands, his face as pale as new fallen snow. He shook his head. “No,” he said, his eyes going wide. “You cannot be here. It is not possible.”

  “And why is that?” Richard asked, moving toward him like a panther out on the prowl. “Because I am supposed to be dead?”

  Andrew shook his head, his mouth opening as if he meant to say something, but not a single word escaped him.

  Halting his progress, Richard glared at him. “Because, if I am alive, then you can no longer claim to have acted as heroically as you allegedly did?” With cold detachment, he slowly asked, “Because I know the truth about you, Lord Carthright?”

  An icy shiver trickled down Mary’s spine. “What are you talking about?” It wasn’t a question she wished to know the answer to, but one that had to be asked.

  Richard’s jaw clenched, tightening the rippling skin that marred the left side of his face. Sharply, he turned his head in her direction, the warmth with which he’d looked at her a short while earlier completely gone. Instead, incomprehension and deep anguish filled his eyes. “I would never have considered a friendship with you, let alone something more than that, if I had known that you were related to him.” The words cut deep, as they were no doubt meant to do.

  Lady Oakland took a step forward. “Heartly—”

  “How could I not have discovered this?” He shook his head. “I do not understand. You do not have the same surname!”

  Swallowing the painful knot in her throat, Mary said, “My brother and I do not share the same father.”

  Richard grimaced, his shoulders slumping as if the entire weight of the world now rested upon them. “Of course.”

  “Heartly, I—”

  “Not a word,” Richard clipped, cutting off Andrew. His eyes remained on Mary. “Do you have any idea of what your brother has done?” She shook her head, unable to speak as Richard raised his hand to the scarred flesh marring his cheek. “This is because of him, because he was too great a coward to do his duty and because he would rather run and hide, leaving me to face the enemy alone.”

  It was a grave accusation, one that Mary could not quite believe. Still, she looked to Andrew, hoping he might deny it. Instead he said, “You got your vengeance though. Did you not?”

  “What I took from you will never erase your actions at Waterloo. We had a plan, Carthright, but when I needed you, I found you gone.” He paused for a moment before saying, “And then you took credit for what I had managed to accompl
ish before being captured. You gained a title that you did not even deserve—land too.”

  “Until you took it all away from me,” Andrew practically shouted.

  Unified gasps filled the room. “Dear God,” Mary murmured as she pieced it all together.

  “And I enjoyed every moment of it,” Richard told Andrew. “Since you were foolish enough to stake it all at cards—”

  “There is no honor in fleecing a foxed man,” Mary said, “no matter what he may have done.” The situation that was presently unfolding in the bright and sunny parlor was an absolute nightmare.

  “Foxed?” Richard snorted. “You think he was foxed when he boasted at the gaming table that he would easily double his money?” He took a steady step in Mary’s direction, his eyes sparking with repressed fury. “Oh no, my lady. Your brother had his wits about him when he chose to risk it all, of that there is no doubt since my sources have confirmed it. So if he has told you otherwise . . . well, all things considered, I would not be the least bit surprised.”

  Stepping aside, Mary distanced herself from her brother. From Richard too, since it would seem that there was a large part of him that she did not know at all. Recalling what her aunt had said, Mary couldn’t help but ask Andrew, “Did you really spend your entire fortune on repairing Carthright House?”

  “The repairs I spoke of were made,” Andrew assured her, “and the staff has always been paid on time.”

  “Tell her the truth,” Richard clipped.

  A lengthy pause followed before Carthright spoke again. “Admittedly, the cost of running Carthright House was not as great as I wanted the world to believe.”

  “What he means to say,” Richard grit out, “is that he made some risky wagers and that he lost.”

  “And the investments you spoke of?” Mary asked, preventing Andrew from responding to Richard’s accusation. When Andrew shook his head, her heart fell. “You were supposed to use the money I gave you to regain control of your life . . . it was supposed to cover your expenses and help secure a stable income . . . but instead, you lied to me. You gambled it all away,” she said, addressing Andrew as if he were a stranger, “and Heartly won it.”

  “Ironically, I had meant to gift the estate to you,” Richard told Mary, “but after this, I wonder if there will even be a wedding.”

  She found that she could scarcely look at him, or her brother for that matter. “Were you ever going to tell me about this?” she asked Richard.

  “I did not think it would be necessary,” he said. His eyes had grown vacant, adding further distance between them. “In fact, I had hoped to put it behind me, but it seems that will no longer be possible.”

  A painful sob escaped Mary. “This cannot be happening. It simply cannot.” Retreating, she moved toward the door.

  “Mary,” Richard said, the sound of her name reflecting the heartache that she was feeling.

  She shook her head. “I need to think.” She swallowed convulsively. “Your actions aside, you have said some things just now that I cannot easily forget.”

  “Mary,” Richard repeated, taking a step in her direction.

  Refusing to listen, she turned away from him and left the room. There simply wasn’t enough space indoors for all of her emotions.

  Chapter 18

  Sunlight spilled over Mary as she stepped out onto the terrace with leaden feet. The air out here was fresh, and yet it felt as though she was suffocating. Blindly, she made her way toward the steps and down onto the path below. How could this be? How could she have been so filled with joy no more than half an hour earlier, only to find herself burdened by grief now—her heart, no longer weightless, but like a dull rock, heavy inside her chest.

  Ignoring the sound of her name being called, she continued in the direction of the lake, toward a vacant spot where she could be alone. As she went, she thought of Andrew, of how dishonorable he’d been if what Richard said was true. She did not want to believe it, but Andrew had failed to deny the accusation.

  Shoulders slumping beneath the weight of this discovery, she considered Richard and how happy he’d made her. Still, there was no escaping the fact that he’d kept a very large part of his life from her. In a way, she understood. He’d wanted to put the past behind him and move on—had not believed there was any chance of her ever finding out about what he’d done. But his words! Lord, how they hurt!

  Pausing, she tried to look at the situation objectively. Richard had spoken in anger. She knew that. Doing her best to move past the pain in her chest, she considered an important question: had Andrew not been her brother, would she have approved of Richard’s actions then? Did he not deserve some form of compensation for what he had lost and all that he had suffered?

  Deep in her heart, she knew that he did—she knew that what Andrew had done was wrong, even if she did not know the specifics.

  “Mary.” The sound of her name was closer this time. Turning, she saw that it was Sarah, her pale blonde hair curling softly against her cheek.

  “I called to you from across the lawn, but you must not have heard me,” Sarah said. Frowning slightly, she moved a little closer. “Are you all right, Mary?”

  Unable to speak for fear that she might start crying, Mary managed a solid nod.

  “Clearly that is not the case.” Sarah’s eyes filled with concern. “You look as though you have just received some troubling news. Is it your parents? Are they not well?”

  Shaking her head, Mary looked away, her eyes fixed on the soft surface of the water which occasionally rippled as mayflies darted across it. “As far as I know, my parents are both well.” She took a quivering breath. “Do you know what it feels like to have your heart torn from your chest?”

  There was a small pause, and then, “I am familiar with the sensation. Yes.” The confession surprised Mary. For a second she didn’t quite know what to say. As it turned out, she didn’t have to say anything at all since Sarah continued by adding, “Spencer and I had a few difficulties before we decided to marry. I kept something from him—something terribly important—and he judged me for it once he found out.”

  “What stopped you from telling him?”

  “Fear, I suppose.” Moving off toward the right side of the lake, Sarah waited for Mary to fall into step beside her before saying, “I did not think that he and I would ever be able to be together, and so I chose not to mention the one thing that could ruin his good opinion of me forever.”

  “But he found out anyway.”

  Sarah nodded. “The truth has a funny way of surfacing at the most inopportune moment.”

  “Perhaps you should have been honest with him from the start,” Mary suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Sarah agreed. She was silent for a while before saying, “We all keep secrets, some greater than others. I daresay you have your own fair share of them.”

  The comment brought Mary up short. “What do you mean?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Nothing, other than that it is rare for a young lady to be venturing about outside on her own during the early hours of the morning. If you will recall, Spencer and I crossed paths with you a couple of weeks ago when we were returning from a walk.”

  “I remember it well, even though I am not prepared to tell you the reason for it. I hope you can understand.”

  “Of course.”

  “But Mr. Heartly knows the truth.” Mary couldn’t stop her voice from rising. “I shared my secrets with him as soon as it became clear that our friendship was developing into something more.”

  Nodding, Sarah seemed to ponder that. “So you feel betrayed?”

  “I . . . I do not know exactly what I feel, other than that I wish I would have discovered the relationship he has to my brother a lot sooner than I did.”

  “Mr. Heartly is a friend of his?”

  A snort was all Mary could manage. “Not in the least.”

  “I see.” Following the path to the right, they allowed it to lead them around some flowerbeds and back in the direction
of the house. “That does complicate matters. I trust that you are fond of your brother?”

  “Of course I am,” Mary said. “He is my family!”

  “That is true,” Sarah agreed, “but being related by blood is not always enough. Character counts as well, and although I do not know the reason for Mr. Heartly’s dislike of your brother, I am certain that it must be justified, in which case you may want to consider which of the two deserves your loyalty the most.”

  “I fear that Mr. Heartly will no longer wish to have anything to do with me,” Mary said. “The look in his eyes when he saw my brother and the things he said . . . I believe he will want to distance himself as much from him as possible, even if that means cutting all ties with me.”

  “You cannot be certain of that. Talk to him, Mary—if you still wish to spend your life with Mr. Heartly, that is. But be prepared to turn your back on your brother if need be.”

  “How can I possibly do that?”

  “By asking yourself if he is worth sacrificing your future happiness for.”

  It wasn’t a question that Mary wished to consider, and yet she knew that she had to. Andrew—the carefree boy she’d grown up with. He’d always been prone to laughter, always ready with a smile to cheer her up. But he was selfish. Undeniably so. And Richard had paid a great price for that. Didn’t he deserve her support?

  “I cannot think of what to do right now,” she murmured, more to herself than to Sarah. On one hand, she wanted to run into Richard’s arms, but on the other, she feared the power that he wielded over her. “He showed no consideration for my feelings at all, and in not doing so, he shattered my heart. How can I trust that he will not do so again?”

  “I cannot answer that question for you, but perhaps if you speak with him—”

  A distressed laugh pushed its way past Mary’s lips. “There is nothing for me to say.” He hated her for being Andrew’s sister. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d told her that he never would have associated with her if he’d known. “Nothing at all.” Turning away from Sarah, Mary headed for the house, one foot stepping in front of the other, moving her forward until she eventually found her brother. To his credit, his expression was somber as she reentered the room from which she’d fled a short while earlier. He was the only one present now, abandoned by the Heartlys, it would seem.

 

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