by Bold, Diana
“I know this can’t last,” she whispered. “I’ve always known that. And I want you to know that it’s all right. I’ve enjoyed every moment I’ve spent with you, and I would never try to make you stay.”
He frowned, wishing he could see her eyes. What was she trying to say? Did she want him to leave? For the first time, he wondered if she loved him as much as he loved her. Had he been alone in thinking that they belonged together?
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” This time, he didn’t even try to keep the frustration from his voice. He wanted to ease her fears, but he was suddenly terrified that if he told her how much he cared, he’d find out she didn’t feel the same.
She finally looked back up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “I don’t want anything from you, Luke. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
Her words washed over his heart like acid. He wanted to give her the world, but how could he, when she constantly told him she didn’t need him?
“Maybe I should just go back to my room and get some sleep,” he said stiffly.
She nodded jerkily, her eyes filled with tears. “I think that would be best.”
Ask me to stay. Pride stinging, he hesitated just a moment longer, then stood up, looking down at her, knowing that he’d done everything wrong tonight and promising himself that when he returned, he’d do better.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, then went back to his room alone.
SERENITY STARED, WIDE-eyed, as a fancy coach bearing the Earl of Hawkesmere’s crest came lumbering slowly up the unkempt gravel drive that led to the cottage. Luke had gone to London to take care of some pressing business a few days ago, but he wasn’t supposed to return for another week.
She darted back into the house and checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, frowning as she tucked a few wayward strands of pale hair back into place. She still felt guilty for what had happened between them the night before he left. Even though he’d been sweet and tender when he’d kissed her goodbye the next morning, she hadn’t been able to banish the thought that something had changed irrevocably between them.
Biting her lip nervously, she pressed her hand to her stomach, wishing she hadn’t tried to tell him about her fears. Or maybe she should have tried harder. She was so worried and confused she didn’t know what to do.
“Gemma,” she cried. “There’s someone coming up the drive.” Though she hoped that Luke was returning early, he’d always seemed to prefer riding his horse.
Gemma poked her head out of the parlor, her dark eyes wary, blinking with confusion. “What is the countess doing here?”
Serenity shook her head and bit her lip, suddenly having a bad feeling about this. Before they could discuss the matter further, a loud knock sounded at the door. Gemma moved around Serenity and opened it, revealing a handsome dark-haired footman in blue livery.
“Lady Winters would like to speak to Miss Pratt,” he announced, giving Serenity what could only be described as a sympathetic glance.
Serenity swallowed dryly. “Of course,’ she murmured, wondering why in the world Luke’s mother would want to speak with her. “Please, tell her she’s more than welcome.”
The footman nodded and retreated, returning moments later at the elbow of a lovely blonde woman who didn’t look nearly old enough to have a child of Luke’s age.
“Miss Pratt,” the countess said, as she entered the foyer and looked around haughtily. “May I have a moment of your time?”
“Yes,” Serenity said, giving Gemma a helpless glance. “Please, come into the parlor. Miss Cross will bring us some refreshments.” Being relegated to the role of servant would annoy Gemma, but there really wasn’t anything else she could do. She’d never entertained anyone other than Luke and Gemma and had no idea how to behave in the presence of a countess, especially the mother of her beloved Luke.
As expected, Gemma stomped off with a snippy look on her face. Serenity turned to face Lucien’s mother, the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach blooming to outright nausea when she noticed the woman glaring daggers at her stomach. Though she knew there was no way the countess could know that she was with child, it certainly seemed that she suspected it.
But that was impossible. No one knew. She hadn’t even told Luke yet, though that’s what she’d tried to do before he left. Had he guessed?
“Please,” she murmured. “Make yourself at home.”
The countess turned up her nose at the shabby sitting room and sat on the very edge of the nearest chair, her posture painfully erect. Serenity sat nervously across from her, glad for the distraction of Gemma returning from the kitchen with a tray laden with tea and biscuits.
Once the countess had been served, and Gemma had discretely left the room, Serenity tried once again to ascertain the purpose of her visit. “What may I do for you, my lady?”
The countess took a sip of her tea and then put the chipped porcelain cup down, staring at Serenity like a cat toying with a mouse. “It isn’t what you can do for me, young lady. It’s what I can do for you.”
“Do for me?” Serenity asked nervously.
“Yes. I’m speaking of your... involvement with my son, of course. You see, he’s grown tired of keeping company with you. He’ll begin courting the girl he’s to marry soon. He’s worried that you will cause problems for him, so I’ve come on his behalf to take care of the unpleasant situation before he returns from London.”
Unpleasant situation?
Serenity thought of the last time they’d spoken, how he’d come so frustrated with her. What a fool she’d been. She’d known he’d never marry her, but for him to not even have the courage to break things off in person, to send his mother to do it for him, killed something deep inside her.
“He could have simply told me himself and not bothered you with a trip all the way out to the country. I will be out of the cottage by the end of the day,” Serenity said, her chin lifting, determined to be strong, even though she had no idea where she would go. She wasn’t someone who needed to be taken care of. She’d given her whole heart and soul to Luke, but if he didn’t love her back, she certainly didn’t want his charity.
“You misunderstand me,” the countess said quietly, the steel in her gaze belying her soft voice. “I cannot allow a woman who is carrying the earl’s child to simply walk away. We will provide a place for you, a stipend. We must ensure the child is taken care of. Miss Cross will go with you if you wish it.” As though the matter was settled, she got to her feet, shaking her head. “I pity you, child. You had to have known this wouldn’t end well for you.”
Yes, she’d known. She’d never doubted it, not really. She’d tried to have faith in Luke, to trust him as he’d asked, but this relationship had been doomed from the start. He was simply too high above her. She should never have tried to make such a leap.
Serenity merely bowed her head, refusing to give the woman whatever it was she was looking for.
“Well,” the countess said with a sniff. “I will have another carriage come for you this evening. Make sure you are packed and ready to go.”
The need to know where she was being sent bubbled inside of Serenity, but she didn’t ask. She supposed it didn’t matter. This cottage was the only home she’d ever known. She had no one, except for the child within her, so she didn’t care where she went, as long as she had a roof over her head.
“I will be ready,” she said in resignation. She held her composure until the woman climbed into her coach. Then Serenity ran upstairs to her room and completely broke down, mourning her lost love and dreams.
Chapter Ten
May 1896
Luke took his time eating breakfast, purposely delaying the inevitable conversation with his mother. Though she lived with him, the house was huge, and she never came down for meals unless they had guests. Instead, she chose to spend most of her time in her luxurious bedroom, in the gold sitting room where she received her friends, or out on social calls. In fact, he
’d gone whole weeks without ever crossing paths with her, which was exactly the way they both preferred it.
His head pounded uncomfortably from the amount of bourbon he’d imbibed last night, so he drank another cup of tea, hoping it would pass. He needed all his wits about him for this.
At last, he could put it off no longer, and he went in search of her.
As expected, he found her in the gold sitting room, going through a stack of invitations. She glanced up as he entered the room and gave him a charming smile. Her beauty could be very deceiving and she was still youthful looking, with blond hair and sky blue eyes.
“How are you this morning?” she asked lightly. “Have you found Allison?” Her lack of concern about her fifteen-year-old daughter’s whereabouts immediately set his nerves even further on edge. Though Roger’s note had rattled her a bit, he knew she didn’t truly believe her beloved stepson would ever hurt the girl. In her eyes, Roger could do no wrong.
He’d never understood why she’d showered Roger with affection while withholding it from her true sons. Morgan had once said that he thought they reminded her too much of their father, that she’d loved him passionately, and her heart had died with him. She’d made no secret of the fact that she blamed Adrian for her husband’s death. She’d even told Adrian that she wished he’d died instead of their father. What kind of woman would say such a thing to her own child? Her unnatural hatred of her own flesh and blood had made this conversation a long time coming.
“No, Mother,” he said, going to stand by the window. He stared down at the street below, worry for his little sister still churning in his own gut. “He’s taken her to France. I’m going to have to hire some private detectives to retrieve her and bring her home.”
“France?” She sounded shocked, and he was glad to have finally proven how serious the matter was. “He’s taken her out of the country?”
He ignored her question. He wasn’t here to speak of Allison. “I have something to ask you, Mother. About something that happened a long time ago. And I require complete honesty if we are going to continue to have any sort of relationship at all.”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her lift her teacup to her lips, obviously flustered and stalling for time. “Whatever are you talking about, darling?” she asked after taking a delicate, precise sip.
“Nearly eight years ago, I spent the summer in the country rebuilding Hawkesmere House. Do you remember?”
She swallowed nervously and put her cup aside. “That was a very long time ago. How can you expect me to remember anything that happened back then? I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night.”
He scoffed at that. She was sharp as a tack, and they both knew it. “I’m speaking of Serenity Pratt, Mother.”
“Who?” She gave him a rather convincing blank stare, as though she’d never heard the name before.
“The woman I was in love with. The woman I planned to make my wife.” Though he’d never actually said that word before in relationship to Serenity, he knew as soon as he did that it was right. If Serenity had not disappeared, he would have married her. His mother had somehow known that, which was why she’d done everything in her power to drive them apart.
Having her scarred youngest son marry beneath him had been bad enough in her eyes, but she’d never given a damn about Adrian. However, he knew under no circumstances would she have allowed that from the heir.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, but she couldn’t hold his intense gaze, and her cheek began to twitch.
“How did you know?” he mused, narrowing his eyes. “Did you have Miss Cross spying on us?”
“I couldn’t allow you to be drawn into that little hussy’s trap,” she snapped, abandoning all pretense. “A gamekeeper’s daughter, Lucien? I am appalled.”
“As am I,” he told her. “You snatched her away from me, Mother. Took the one woman who made me happy. And what else did you take? Please tell me you didn’t take anything else!”
She flinched and pushed to her feet, striding for the door. “I don’t have to listen to this nonsense.”
He ran to cut her off, putting himself in her path. “Yes, you do. I am the earl, and you are beholden to me for the very food you put in your mouth. Answer my question, or I swear to God, I will turn you out on the streets.”
She glared at him, her eyes snapping with outrage. Her second husband had left everything to Roger, other than a small cottage in the country. And there was nothing she’d hate more than to be sent away from London. For once in his life, he had the upper hand where she was concerned.
“She was going to birth your bastard!” she admitted at last. “You would have been paying for that child in one way or another for the rest of your life. You should thank me!”
All the air left his lungs in a whoosh as his worst fear was realized. He had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from wrapping them around her neck. “What did you do to my child?”
“Roger saw to it,” she said, with a flick of her hand. “We told the chit the baby died, and he made sure that none of us would ever have to deal with the child again.”
“You told her the baby died?” He thought of the pain and sadness in Serenity’s eyes, and it slayed him. He couldn’t imagine what she’d suffered, having been left to grieve their baby all on her own.
“It was a kindness,” she said, and her complete disregard for her own grandchild shocked him to the core. “If she’d raised it, the child would always have thought itself better than it was. Roger made sure it knows its place in life.”
“It?” he questioned hoarsely. “Don’t you even know if the child was a boy or a girl?
She sniffed. “I didn’t ask. I hardly think that it matters.”
Her cavalier dismissal of the matter turned his heart to stone and killed whatever love he’d still had for her. Knowing he’d get nothing more from her and that Roger probably hadn’t bothered to tell her what he’d done with the child anyway, he stood aside. “Someone will come up shortly and help you pack. You’re leaving London. You can stay at your dower house in the country until I’ve made up my mind what to do with you. For now, I can’t bear to look at you.”
“You can’t do that,” she said, aghast and suddenly concerned by the thought of not being able to continue living in the style to which she’d become accustomed.
He gave her a bitter smile. “Yes, I can.”
Her palpable anger crackled between them, and her eyes flashed with avarice and calculation. She must have thought better of putting any of her plans into motion at the moment, though, because she gave a furious huff and turned away.
Once she’d left the room, he strode to her fine china set and threw it against the wall, feeling only marginally satisfied when it shattered into a thousand pieces. He scrubbed his hand over his face, fury and despair battling within him.
Serenity had been pregnant when his mother had taken her from him. She’d gone through childbirth by herself, then had to suffer alone through the grief of thinking that their child had died. And their baby... somewhere he had a seven-year-old child, living with strangers, in who knew what kind of conditions.
The guilt nearly overwhelmed him. He’d known the consequences Serenity could face because of his desire for her, but he’d always assumed he’d be there to take care of her if such a thing happened. In truth, he’d been so obsessed with her, he hadn’t given the future much thought, so hellbent on having that beautiful summer with her.
He should have looked harder for her. He should have torn the world apart until he’d found her. No wonder she’d left him in Dover. How could he ever expect her to want to be with someone who had failed her so completely?
SERENITY MADE THE BED in the austere little room Gemma had provided her, feeling empty and numb. She’d cried herself to sleep last night but had woken this morning determined not to ever cry over Luke ever again. Her life had changed once again, and she must make the best of it.
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Squaring her shoulders, she traipsed downstairs for breakfast.
“You slept late,” Gemma snapped when Serenity entered the drab little dining room. She was sipping a cup of tea and working on a crossword puzzle. “Browne has already cleared breakfast.”
Serenity blinked, then sat down across from Gemma. The clock on the mantle showed that it was just now seven. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you served breakfast so early. I will be on time tomorrow, I promise.” Her stomach growled, and she put a hand over it in embarrassment, hoping Gemma couldn’t hear.
“See that you are,” Gemma replied, not looking up from her puzzle. “You can’t expect me to create extra work for Browne just because you like to lay abed until noon.”
Serenity sighed, staring at the teapot. “May I have a cup of tea?”
Gemma nodded shortly, and for several minutes, Serenity busied herself with pouring the hot water over the tea leaves and adding two spoons of sugar. She hadn’t eaten yesterday at all, having traveled all day and not wanting to spend any of her meager savings. She actually felt weak with hunger, and the fact that Gemma had obviously decided not to feed her just because she hadn’t woken up at whatever insanely early hour she chose to take breakfast seemed quite unfair.
She had a sinking feeling that this would be just the first of many arbitrary rules Gemma would impose upon her.
Clearing her throat, she gestured to the section of the paper that Gemma was not using. “May I have a look at the classified section? I will try and find a new position quickly, so that I won’t have to impose on you for very long.”
Gemma frowned and finally met her gaze. “I thought we discussed this last night. I told you I’d be quite pleased if you’d stay here, with me, as my companion.”