by Bold, Diana
Serenity clenched her fists beneath the table. “That’s very kind of you, Gemma. But I couldn’t possibly. I know money is tight for you.”
“Well, I won’t be paying you a wage,” Gemma said with a roll of her eyes. “Room and board should be sufficient; don’t you think?”
“Of course,” Serenity answered helplessly. The thought of being trapped in this small house with Gemma, totally dependent upon her for every little thing, having no money or control of her circumstances, made her feel even more weak and dizzy. The fact that Gemma expected her do so made her completely reexamine their friendship. Had Gemma felt this sort of bitterness and helplessness when she’d acted as Serenity’s companion? Had Serenity ever treated Gemma the way she was treating her now? She didn’t think so, but she’d been so enamored of Luke, so lost in him, she hardly remembered Gemma even being there.
She suddenly deeply regretted running away from Luke. Was living with Gemma any different than taking Luke’s offer of charity? At least if she’d gone back to the cottage, she’d have had some privacy and be able to decide what time she’d take her own breakfast.
She stared longingly at the newspaper and resolved to get her hands on it as soon as possible. Somehow, she would find herself another position. Though she owed Gemma a lot and was extremely grateful that she’d taken her in last night, she could already tell that life with her old companion was going to be unbearable.
Chapter Eleven
After speaking to his mother, Luke had spent an hour closeted with a private investigator, explaining the situation with Roger and impressing upon him the necessity of finding Allison and bringing her home as soon as possible. He’d also asked the man to question Roger about the baby, paying him extra for utter secrecy about the matter. The man had been ex-military, sharp, cool, and capable, and he felt a little better knowing that someone was now on Roger’s trail.
Now, however, he must deal with another troubling situation. Luke knocked on his brother Morgan’s front door, anxiety churning in his gut. Anne’s memorial service would be held later this afternoon, but Morgan still refused to talk to anyone. According to the note his butler had sent earlier this morning, Morgan had closeted himself in the study with his wife’s coffin, refusing anyone entrance.
Would his grieving little brother even allow them to bury Anne?
The butler answered the door, relief washing over his usually impassive face. “Thank God you’re here, my lord. We are all so concerned about him.”
Luke nodded and strode inside, handing the butler his cloak. “I am so sorry it took me so long to get over here. I’ve had a lot to deal with during the last two days.”
“Of course, my lord,” the man replied, the slightest hint of censure in his tone.
Guilt overwhelmed Luke because he knew he deserved it. He should have been here for Morgan. How could he have let forty-eight hours pass without coming to check on him? The weight of his responsibilities had never weighed heavier upon him. He simply had too many people relying on him, too many duties pulling him in different directions. How could he choose between his kidnapped sister and his grieving brother? And even now, his gut was telling him to abandon them both and find Serenity.
As usual, he had no answers. All he could do was try to comfort Morgan the best he could.
The butler led him to Morgan’s study and handed him a key. “He’ll listen to you, my lord. I know he will.”
Luke was far less confident in his own abilities as he let himself into the room and stared in dismay at the shell of a man his vibrant younger brother had become. Morgan sat in a chair beside Anne’s open coffin, looking utterly shattered. Morgan did not appear to have turned to drink as he or Adrian had done when faced with such a loss. Instead, an array of half-finished canvases lay strewn about, and Morgan was splattered with paint.
The paintings showed horrifying, hellish images. Fire and blood.
“I didn’t know you were painting again,” Luke said quietly.
Morgan flinched but didn’t respond.
Luke walked farther into the room, his gaze drawn to his lovely sister-in-law’s pale, perfect face. She looked so peaceful; it seemed a travesty. Impossible to believe that she would never open her laughing blue eyes again, never see her children grow up.
“I can’t do this,” Morgan whispered at last. “I don’t know how to go on without her.”
Luke turned and knelt beside him, drawing him into a fierce embrace. “I’m so sorry, Morgan. I’m sorry this happened, sorry I haven’t been here for you. I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You can’t fix this,” Morgan said, his voice trembling. “Some things just can’t be fixed.”
Then he began to cry, harsh wrenching sobs that shook them both. Luke just held on, letting him cry, hoping this was the first step to healing.
AFTER MORGAN HAD CRIED until he had no tears left to shed, Luke finally managed to get his little brother into a hot bath while the servants cleaned up the study and moved Anne’s coffin into the parlor where the memorial would be held.
Luke and Adrian stood by Morgan’s side as the guests offered their condolences, and to Luke’s relief, Morgan’s anger at his twin seemed to have dissipated. Morgan would get through this, Luke realized. His brother was strong. However, he knew the pain of living without the one you loved. Morgan would be grieving Anne for a very long time.
He finally left Morgan’s house near midnight, leaving his brother reading to his two older children. He still needed to address the other issue, of the baby who remained at the orphanage with Fiona, but that could wait.
For now, he just wanted to get home, where he could think about his own lost love and child.
He entered his foyer, waving away the tired footman and taking off his own cloak. As he passed the table where the invitations and mail were placed, a name on the envelope on top caught his eye.
Gemma Cross.
It was addressed to his mother, but given Miss Cross’ connection to Serenity, and his suspicion that she had been the one providing information to his mother back when she had been Serenity’s companion, he didn’t hesitate to rip it open.
My Lady,
The ‘inheritance’ you provided me with has dwindled, and I thought perhaps you might want to meet with me, regarding new information about Miss Pratt and your son, in exchange for a new arrangement. If you are so inclined, please contact me at your earliest convenience.
Gemma Cross
Inheritance? Had his mother paid the woman for her assistance in stealing Serenity and his child away from him? Anger churned in his gut, and his first instinct was to go rouse the woman from her bed and demand answers.
However, it was very late, and he probably would not get what he wanted if he arrived angry in the middle of the night. No, he would have to call upon her at a reasonable hour and charm the information out of her. Money was apparently her motivating factor, and he had plenty of that. He would offer to match or beat what his mother had paid her if she would give her information to him instead.
As he strode up to his room and prepared for bed, a little of the stress and sorrow of the day dissipated. Gemma had to know where Serenity was. Why else would she be contacting his mother after all these years?
The thought of having her in his arms again, of putting the past behind them and beginning again, soothed a bit of the pain churning inside him.
Please. Let her be safe.
Chapter Twelve
Serenity was sitting in the parlor with Gemma when someone pounded loudly on the front door. The women exchanged concerned looks as Browne went to answer it. After only two days, Serenity had already gathered that Gemma didn’t have many guests, and the voice that drifted down the hall sounded decidedly male and very angry.
A few moments later, Browne arrived at the parlor door, her face a bit pale. “Miss Cross, the Earl of Hawkesmere is here to see you.”
What is he doing here?
Serenity rose from her chair in a p
anic. “Don’t tell him I’m here,” she pleaded. “See what he wants, but don’t tell him I’m here.”
Gemma nodded but looked strangely nervous herself. “Send him in,” she instructed Browne.
Serenity hurried across the room to the door that connected the parlor to the dining room, ducking out of sight against the wall on the other side, her heart thundering in her chest. How had he found her so quickly? How had he possibly known where to look? She hadn’t thought he’d have kept track of Gemma.
“Good afternoon, Miss Cross. Forgive me for dropping by so unexpectedly.” Luke’s deep voice had its usual effect on Serenity’s frayed nerves, and she pressed harder against the wall, forcing herself to stay put instead of running back to him, as she wanted so badly to do. Why did she still love him so?
Gemma cleared her throat. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, my lord. It’s been many years. Please, have a seat.”
“I won’t be staying long,” Luke said, still sounding angry, despite his politeness. “I’ve come about this.”
Serenity wanted to peer around the corner to see what he was referring to but couldn’t risk it.
“How did you get that letter?” Gemma asked nervously.
“I’ve sent my mother away,” he said. “But when I saw your name on this letter, when I have been looking so hard for Serenity Pratt, I decided to read it. Imagine my surprise when you mentioned the previous financial arrangement you’d had with my mother, and your attempts to gain more money for the new information you have about myself and Miss Pratt.”
Had Gemma written to the countess? Tears burned Serenity’s eyes when she realized this hadn’t been the first time. She should have realized Gemma had been the one who’d alerted the countess of her relationship with Luke. The one person she’d thought she could trust had been the one to destroy her.
Tears stinging her eyes, rage welling up in her throat, Serenity abandoned her hiding place and entered the parlor once more. Luke’s blue gaze immediately met hers, and the relief and happiness she saw there banished the last of her doubts. If the choice was between taking his charity or Gemma’s, she would always choose him.
“How could you?” she asked Gemma, her voice rising wildly. “How could you write to the countess about me? I trusted you.”
Gemma’s dark eyes flashed with sudden anger of her own. “You expected me to just take you in? I hardly have any money left. I needed the countess to give me more, so that I could maintain my household.”
“I told you I only needed to impose upon you for a few days! You were the one who asked me to stay permanently!” Serenity cried.
Luke crossed the room to her side and took her hand in his. “That’s not all she’s done,” he said quietly. “I’ve spoken to my mother. It’s worse than you could possibly imagine.”
Gemma paled, her righteous indignation vanishing as she wrung her hands, obviously understanding what he was about to reveal. “I had no choice. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Especially not you, Serenity. I do care for you. I do.”
Luke squeezed Serenity’s hand, as if to give her strength, and sickness bloomed in her stomach once again. “I never told my mother to send you away, Serenity. You were my entire world, and I was devastated, because I thought you’d left me. It wasn’t until we met again that I realized what my mother had done. When I confronted her, she revealed some horrible truths.”
He turned to Gemma. “You were the one who told my mother that Serenity was with child.”
Gemma closed her eyes and swallowed, then opened them again and nodded.
“But how did you know?” Serenity cried, thrown completely off balance at the knowledge that Gemma had been the one to betray her, and worse yet, that Luke now knew her secret. “I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t even certain myself.”
“I was your servant! Who do you think made your bed and washed your clothes?” Gemma cried. “Of course, I noticed when you missed your monthly flow.”
Serenity blinked, stunned and embarrassed. She hadn’t realized Gemma had paid that much attention to the most private workings of her body. She’d never intended for her to feel that she was a servant, but when she’d arrived, she’d just taken over. Serenity had just assumed that’s what companions did.
Luke cupped her face in his hands. “I wish I would have known. About the baby. I would have been there for you, angel. I would have been there for you every minute.”
Tears overfilled her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry that I lost our baby.” Tears wracked her body and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. Sharing this pain with him, after all this time, was surprisingly cathartic. She’d needed to share this with him for so long, and even though it was horrible, she was glad he finally knew what had happened.
“Tell me, Gemma,” he said, his voice anguished. “Tell me what happened to our child.”
“The baby died,” Gemma said, her voice strangled.
“No!” Luke yelled, his arms tightening around Serenity even more. “My mother admitted it to me. You and Roger told Serenity the baby died, but it didn’t. What did you do with our baby?”
“What?” Serenity cried, jerking away to look wildly between Gemma and Luke, who were locked in a battle of wills. She stumbled back, her ears filling with a rushing sound as the impact of what he’d just said sunk in. Seven years! Her baby would be seven years old, and if the child wasn’t dead, then she’d been without her mother all this time.
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on her knees as the world spun around her. Luke glanced over at her, his eyes widening. He lunged toward her as her world went dark.
LUKE CAUGHT SERENITY just as she collapsed, sweeping her up in his arms, her heart breaking for her. He hadn’t meant for her to find out this way. He’d wanted to break it to her in the kindest, gentlest way possible.
“Oh, my Lord,” Gemma breathed, hurrying forward and pressing her hand to Serenity’s pale cheek. “Is she all right?”
“What do you care?” Luke snapped, turning around and laying her down gently on the sofa. “You took her child from her and betrayed her at every turn, all while pretending to be her friend.”
Gemma sank back into her chair, tears streaming down her face. “I had to. Don’t you see? Your mother made me! She threatened to cut me off if I didn’t! I had no choice.”
Luke sank to his knees beside Serenity, holding her hand as he finally met Gemma’s shattered gaze. He shook his head in resignation, realizing that she was not the villain here. He knew Gemma well enough to know how powerless she’d always felt. His mother had given her the opportunity to have a home of her own, to have some semblance of control of her life. All he had to do was give her a chance to do the right thing this time.
“Miss Cross, name your price. I will give you whatever you want. All you need do is tell me the entire story. I want to find my child. I want to undo the harm my mother has caused.” He gave her the gentlest smile he could summon. “Please. Help me undo the pain we’ve all caused Serenity and this innocent child.”
Gemma closed her eyes, wringing her hands together as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t know where the girl is, Lucien. I swear I don’t. All I know is that after she was born, Lord Winters took her to a brothel he owned. Miss Hawley’s Gentleman’s Club.”
“A brothel? Dead God. Are you telling me that my baby girl is being raised in a whorehouse? That she could be—” He bit the thought off, horrified to even imagine what his little girl could be enduring at this very moment. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around that, on top of everything else. How could he have failed his child this completely?
Then he remembered something else, something even more troubling. Disguised as Prometheus, his brother Adrian had burned Miss Hawley’s Gentleman’s Club to the ground several months ago. How would he ever find out what he needed to know when the only place he knew to look was gone?
He scrubbed his hand over his face and forced hims
elf to stand, instead of launching himself across the room and strangling Gemma with his bare hands for her part in this. “Thank you, Miss Cross. I will make sure that you are provided for. Please gather Miss Pratt’s things. I’m taking her with me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Serenity woke to find herself cradled in Luke’s arms, bouncing along in a well-sprung coach as the London streets flashed by the windows. She stiffened, the events of the past hour overwhelming her.
“It’s all right,” Luke told her softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. “Relax, angel. Just let me hold you. We’ll sort it all out. We’ll find our daughter.”
She drew in a shuddering breath, then let it out in a sob. “She’s out there all alone. My baby.”
“Our baby,” he corrected. “She’s my daughter, too, though everyone seems to have seen fit to rob me of that. And I promise I will move heaven and earth to find her.”
“I believe you,” she whispered, tears still streaming down her face, choking her. “I believe you will bring her back to me.” In truth, she didn’t. Not really. How could they ever find their child after all this time? But she wasn’t alone anymore, and that was something. Luke was here with her, and no matter the result of their search, at least she would no longer have to go through this pain and grief all alone.
“I am not sure I deserve your trust, but it means so much to me to hear it. When I woke in Dover and found myself alone, when I thought I had lost you again... I just need to know that you’ll stay with me this time, Serenity. No matter what the future holds, just promise me that you’ll never run off that way again. Not without telling me where you’re going. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fisting her hands in his shirt. “You’re right. I won’t. I thought our daughter was dead, I didn’t think there was anything that could be done, and I wanted to spare you that. But now... to be told that she’s out there, that we might be able to find her... I’m so afraid to hope for that. Afraid to even believe it’s true.”