Let Love Find You

by Johanna Lindsey

  “I already told her that. It sparked her compassion, which is why she might think she’s in love with me, too. I need to help her to see the difference.”

  “The only thing that’s going to happen if you come back here is I’m going to shoot you. Don’t ever get within sight of Amanda again!”

  Raphael wound his way through the guests looking for his sister. Again, she wasn’t among them. He spotted his wife and headed to her side instead.

  “Is she still hiding in her room?”

  “If you mean Mandy, yes, I do believe so. And why do you appear so . . . angry about it?”

  He sighed. “I thought I was hiding it quite well.”

  Ophelia patted his cheek. “You are, just not from me. So—why?”

  “She’s not going to get herself married if she doesn’t get her arse down here. Did you find out why she’s barricaded herself?”

  “She doesn’t want to talk about it, whatever it is. But you’re closer to her than the rest of us are. Why haven’t you asked her?”

  He mumbled, “Because she bit my head off when I tried yesterday. She’s not upset, she’s furious.”

  “Well, I have to disagree with that conclusion, since I found her crying.”

  Raphael groaned. “A bundle of emotions? Well, now that I know why—”

  “Wait just a moment. What do you mean that you know why? You were just asking me why! What just rang your bell?”

  “Baldwin did. Mandy thinks she’s in love—with the wrong man. I need to go tell her why she’s not. Relieve her mind, et cetera.”

  “Good luck with that!” Ophelia called after him.

  Did she have to sound so amused? Raphael gritted his teeth and went straight upstairs to pound on Mandy’s door, but all he heard from inside was exactly what she’d said the last three times he’d knocked: “Go away.”

  “Not this time, m’dear. Open the door now, or I’ll have to go to Father with what Baldwin just told me.”

  The door swung open wide. “Devin’s come back?”

  She tried to get past him, to go find the man. Raphael held her back and closed the door behind him. “A dozen men are downstairs hounding us with ‘Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?’ and I mention Cupid and you want to fly downstairs? Why is that?”

  Her chin jutted out mulishly. “I don’t want to discuss him. Now let me out of here.”

  “So you can go discuss him with—him? Sorry, but he didn’t stay, he’s—good God, don’t cry!

  “I am not crying!” Amanda said furiously, but she swung around to hide it.

  Raphael winced. He couldn’t abide tears, they quite undid him, but Amanda’s were usually fake. These weren’t. He started to put his hands on her shoulders but winced again when he heard the sniffle and stepped back with a sigh.

  “Blister it, if you love him, then—”

  “I don’t, I hate him.”

  Raphael raised a brow, recognizing a whopper when he heard one. “He told me that he compromised you.” He heard her gasp. “Tell me he has some different definition for that than I do.”

  She quickly wiped her eyes before she glanced back at him. “You mean he was just seen in my room and nothing else?”

  “Yes!”

  “No.” She turned around to stare at him. “It was something that just got out of hand. It was a mistake. It won’t be repeated. No one else has to know about it. I will not marry a man who doesn’t want me.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I could shoot him right now. Yes, I’m quite sure.”

  “No, I meant that he doesn’t want you? Seems to me that he does.”

  She drew in her breath. “What exactly did he tell you to give you that impression?”

  “He thinks you’re mistaking compassion for something else. He said he’d return to help you figure that out. He only stopped by on his way to London, something about going to meet his father.”

  “He found out who the man is?”

  “Apparently. Wouldn’t say who, not that it matters. Whether his father is a pauper or a lord, he’s still a bastard.”

  “So? Don’t you dare think that would matter to me if I loved him.”

  “But it does make you feel sorry for him, doesn’t it? Admit it, you’ve let pity—”

  “Don’t be absurd. I merely understand him better now that I know about this secret of his. He’s let it affect his entire life. He’s let it make him feel unworthy. I think it’s ridiculous for a person to shoulder the blame for something that was done before he was even born. And you know very well Father wouldn’t turn him away because of that if I loved him.”

  Raphael grinned. “You’re stressing that if an awful lot, m’dear. But buck up. He’ll probably return tomorrow and you can shoot him or tell him you love him. You might want to figure out which course of action you’ll take before then.”

  She stabbed a finger toward the door.

  “I’m going.” Yet he still paused to add, “If you want him, you can have him. You do know that, right? Wouldn’t be the first time the groom arrives at the altar with a gun at his back.”

  She glared at him. “Wouldn’t be the first time a bride runs like hell in the opposite direction, either. I won’t have a man who doesn’t love me, Rafe. I won’t.”

  “He said this is killing him. Doesn’t sound like a man who’s not in love.”

  Raphael closed the door behind him. She yanked it back open and shouted down the corridor at him, “He said that?!”

  He didn’t stop, just started whistling a happy tune. He wasn’t going to say what she needed to hear. He wouldn’t have wanted to hear from someone else that Ophelia was in love with him. Amanda needed to hear it from the man himself. It was her feelings about Baldwin that had concerned him, and he had his answer to that.

  She was still standing just outside her door waiting for him to answer her though. He stopped at the top of the stairs and yelled back at her, “I’ll have my pistol sent up to you, just in case.”

  She didn’t appreciate his teasing. “Careful I don’t use it on you instead!”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  IT WAS A MANSION, the Caswell town house in the fashionable upper end of town. It took Devin half the day to find it, so it was nearing dusk when he knocked on the door. He was delayed because the house didn’t actually belong to the Culley family but was an inheritance from the Caswell side, left specifically to their last descendant, Garth Culley.

  Rich, obviously, even a marble floor in the foyer and a silk-upholstered bench for visitors who didn’t get any farther than that. The butler, impeccably dressed, was gracious when he informed Devin that Lord Garth wasn’t receiving. So Devin felt bad to tell the man, “I’m not leaving until I see him. Inform him that Elaine Baldwin’s son demands his presence.” Rather harsh, but it made his point.

  The butler was surprisingly not perturbed, though, and merely nodded. “Very well, m’lord, you can wait here while I deliver your message.” The man moved off down the hall to mount the grand stairs in the center of it.

  Now that Devin was actually here and about to meet his father for the first time, he would have thought some nervousness might show up. It didn’t. The anger was there, just barely under the surface. Eagerness was there, to have what had haunted him his whole life finally resolved. But he felt an odd calmness, too, despite knowing he was probably going to have to kill the man, or maybe because of it. He had a pistol in his pocket to do so. It would be like cutting out a cankerous sore—or putting down a mad dog.

  The anger took precedence when the butler appeared at the top of the stairs instead of Garth. So he’d refused to see him? Or was he loading his own pistol? Devin braced himself. But the butler actually beckoned him forward and, when Devin reached him, led him down the corridor to open a door for him at the end of it.

  He still braced himself. The man could be insane enough to shoot him in his own house. And Devin couldn’t stop him immediately. The bedroom was well lit and lavi
shly furnished in early-century French extravagance more suited to a woman’s tastes. As if his mind had been read, he heard, “I’ve never changed anything in this house. This was my maternal grandmother’s room.”

  Devin’s eyes were drawn to the bed, the last place he expected to find his father. He felt at a disadvantage now because he stood there in plain view, giving Garth time to take his measure, while he had to approach the large four-poster bed to do the same.

  The first thing obvious to Devin was that Garth Culley looked so much older than his fifties. His hair was prematurely gray and thinning. If his eyes had ever been amber, they were just a dull light brown now, bloodshot, sunken. His face was gaunt, the skin loose as if he’d lost a lot of weight. There wasn’t much left of the man under the covers, certainly not one healthy enough to be running around the woods taking shots at Devin. But he was rich. He could afford to hire as many killers as he needed.

  Garth was still taking in every inch of his son avidly. Devin went straight for the jugular with his question. “Why are you trying to kill me, Father?”

  The question shocked the man, it was unmistakable. The confusion wasn’t just in his expression but in his voice, surprisingly still strong for a man who looked so sickly. “Why would I kill my heir?”

  Now Devin was shocked, but he recovered more quickly. “You really are crazy, aren’t you? Your heir? When you don’t even know me, never wanted to know me?!”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve had people spying on you all of your life. I even visited your school, talked to your teachers, watched you from afar. You fascinated me. You faced life with such courage.”

  “Liar,” Devin snarled. “You would have introduced yourself if that were so!”

  “No, the time for that was long gone. I’d made the decision early. I didn’t want you to know what sort of man had sired you. I understand your mother didn’t want you to know either. How is it you know now, when she’s been dead all these years?”

  Devin’s anger was so strong now it was choking him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It made no sense. If the man really was as interested in Devin as he was claiming, he would have met him at some point, even if under pretense, without revealing who he really was. But he’d never done that.

  Devin wasn’t sure how he managed to produce an even tone to say, “She left me a letter. I only just found it.”

  “Sweet Elaine, what did she think to accomplish by that?” Garth said, truly perplexed.

  “She entertained the thought that someday you might change and be worth knowing.”

  “Foolish girl, she should have known better. I don’t remember most of the women I’ve wronged, but I never forgot Elaine. I was fond of her in my own way, which is why I was interested in you, I suppose. More’n my legitimate children, if truth be known.”

  It actually hurt to hear that. What the hell, did he want to believe it? He needed to sit down to get control of the emotions flaying him, but there was no chair beside the bed. Did no one ever visit the man? He did appear to be bedridden.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked bluntly. “With your health?”

  “The better question would be, what isn’t wrong with me,” Garth said wryly. “You can’t lead a life like I have and not pay the price.”

  “You’re dying?”

  “Indeed. They wonder why I haven’t drawn my last breath yet. I wonder the same thing. Too many whores, too many diseases, have taken their toll. But I’m told it’s consumption that’s actually killing me.”

  Oh, God, where was the satisfaction in hating a dying man? This—meeting—was not going as expected. Not as hoped for. Not as ever imagined. Devin could at least say the words.

  “I’ve hated you my whole life, even when I thought you were someone else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you denied me. Because you weren’t there for me. Because you wanted no part of me. And because you ruined my mother!”

  Garth nodded. That might even have been something of a smile that twisted his lips. “Good reasons to hate, I suppose. But you would have hated me much much more if I had let you know me. Your mother, however, could have salvaged her life, could have still married well, even with a child. She was that beautiful. What did she do instead?”

  Devin’s fists clenched. “Went from loving one married man to another, yes, I know. Her taste in men was abhorrent.”

  “Nonsense. Wolseley worshipped her. He would have left his family for her, you know.” At Devin’s indrawn breath, Garth added, “You didn’t know? It’s true. But she wouldn’t let him create a scandal for her. She was protecting you. Just as I was protecting you, in not giving in to the urge to be part of your life.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It was only a brief moment of madness, to entertain the notion of divorce and living a normal life with you and Elaine. It was a selfish notion. Nothing good would have come of it. Believe me, I’m not trying to make you see me in a better light. None exists.”

  “Good.” Devin hit his chest. “Because I’ve lived with this hate so long, nothing you can do or say will remove it.”

  “Then you should be pleased to know that I’ve lost everyone in my life, everyone that I had the slightest care for. My wife died long ago, though she meant nothing to me. The son she gave me died in an accident, though he was as worthless of character as I was, exactly what I tried to keep you from becoming by denying myself access to you. The daughter she gave me died in childbirth, my only grandchild with her. My mother died before I reached adulthood. My father long ago disowned me and rightly so. Even the few friends I had have long since washed their hands of me.”

  “As you deserve?”

  That twist of the lips that resembled a smile came again. “Why make that a question? Of course I deserve no better. And yet I have all this wealth, left to me by my maternal grandmother. She died when I was still a child, or she probably would have disowned me, too. Instead I get the immense wealth from her side of the family, to do with as I please. Didn’t find that out, though, until after my father kicked me out of his life. I’m not sure he even knew. Probably stuck in his craw, to learn that his disowning me wasn’t going to hurt as much as he’d thought, that I ended up richer than he is.”

  “He was petty that way?”

  “No. It’s a weakness of mine, to think everyone is as despicable as I am when I know they aren’t, my father least of all. He’s a good man. I am his greatest disappointment.”

  “He still lives?” But Devin answered his own question. “Owen Culley is your father, isn’t he? A man I actually like?”

  “I’m not surprised you’d like him. And, yes, he’s your grandfather.”

  Devin felt an odd gladness, the very last thing he expected to feel in this house. “Then why didn’t he tell me about you when I asked him?”

  “What exactly did you ask him?”

  “I told him I was looking for distant cousins with eyes like mine.”

  “Of course he wouldn’t think of me.”

  “Then he doesn’t know I’m his grandson?”

  “He might suspect, if his eyesight is still good. You do resemble the younger me somewhat, after all. And I’m sure he assumes I have bastards all over England. But he hasn’t spoken to me or seen me in over thirty years.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him I am your son? At least he could have been part of my life!”

  “That would have been a decent thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Garth said drily.

  “And you’ve never done a single decent thing in your life?”

  “Just one—I made sure you never met me. Fie on your mother for ruining that. But I do actually have a letter prepared for him, to be delivered upon my death, that mentions you. It wouldn’t matter if he knows, after I’m gone. I wouldn’t tell him sooner. It would have led you to me, and we were never supposed to meet. But now that we have, I suppose I can have the letter dispatched tonight. No need for you to be burden
ed with the task of telling him you two are related.”

  “He’ll probably prefer it coming from me.”

  “So? I have never taken the opinion of others into account, why would I start now?”

  “Fine. Do as you please!”

  “This is how I’ve led this wretched life, Devin, doing whatever takes my fancy—no matter who it hurts. Did we not agree, you have every reason to hate me, and none to forgive? That you’re my heir is only a matter of default.”

  Devin frowned. Why did that suddenly not have the ring of truth? Was his father making sure Devin continued to hate him? Not wanting him or anyone else to know that he might be trying to redeem himself in the last days of his life? Oh, God, he would be the biggest fool alive if he tried to see anything decent in this man.

  Garth continued, “I thought it was ironic, that I would be doing something to please my father after I’m gone, and never doubt, he will be pleased with you. You’ve turned out to be everything that I wasn’t. You’ve tried to be hard, to remain aloof, and now I understand why, but—”

  “You don’t know me!”

  “On the contrary, I have trunks filled with reports on you, from your servants, your mother’s servants—no, don’t look stricken, your friends and family would never betray you. It’s so obvious that you care about everyone in your life. You’re a good man, Devin. By making sure I didn’t tarnish your life, you’ve grown into a man any father would be proud of. And this is why you’re my heir. My only other choice isn’t worth mentioning.”

  “Someone is trying to kill me. If not you—is it because of you? Because you’ve named me your heir?”

  Garth looked stricken. “He wouldn’t dare!”

  “Who?”

  “This needs investigat—”

  “Who?”

  “You can’t intimidate a dead man, Devin. I will see to this for you, my last act of kindness.”

  “I want nothing from you, no inheritance, no favors. Just give me his bloody name! He’s not waiting until I’m alone to shoot at me from the shadows. He could have hurt Amanda!”

  “So you love her? I wasn’t sure—there you go, looking surprised again. My spies are very good, they just can’t read your mind.”