by Laura Landon
“You must,” he said, paying special attention to her reaction. “Henley said you’d been out since shortly after I left. What did you do all that time?”
He told himself that he may have imagined that her face lost color. But he couldn’t tell himself that he imagined the tightening of her grip on his arm. She was hiding something, but he warned himself not to draw any conclusions before he listened to her explanation.
“Nothing,” she said with a hesitancy in her voice. “I usually sit by the pond and watch the ducks swim by. There’s always a child or two who feed them pieces of bread.”
“And what else?” he asked, hoping she’d tell him that today they’d hired a hansom cab to go shopping. Except neither she nor Milly carried any packages.
“Nothing else,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered.
Her fingers dug deeper into his arm with each word of her lie.
“I just sat on a bench and enjoyed the beautiful weather.”
“It was beautiful,” he agreed, and walked the rest of the way in silence.
His heart was heavy by the time they arrived home. A gnawing anger simmered inside him.
Rachael went to her room, and he closeted himself in his study. There were several projects his father wanted him to look into within the next few weeks, and several decisions he had to make regarding fields they were going to plant into barley for the coming year, versus fields they were going to use for grazing, but Ben couldn’t think about any of those things. All he could concentrate on was seeing his wife dismount from a hansom cab, then assuring him that she’d been in the park all afternoon.
Several questions nagged at his brain. Several unwanted possibilities refused to go away: Where had she been, because she certainly hadn’t been where she said she’d been?
And, who had she been with?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Are you sure you want to go out again today, my lady,” Milly asked as Rachael gathered her things.
“I have to. Last night Lord Benjamin mentioned that we might not stay in London as long as he’d originally thought. I’m not sure how many more times I might be able to leave, or how long it will be before we return.”
“You’re taking a terrible chance, my lady. Lord Benjamin is likely to realize you’ve left the house nearly every day this week.”
Rachael tried to shove that thought from her mind. Unless Henley had told him, how would he know? She’d been sure to return home every day before he did. After the day he’d came upon her and Milly soon after they’d dismounted from the hansom cab, she’d taken more care to hide the fact that she hadn’t just gone for a walk through the park. But had traveled to King Street.
She pushed aside the risk she was taking, and opened the top drawer on her dressing table. She reached inside and took out a long, velvet box. “Put this in my reticule, too,” she said, handing the box to Milly.
Milly pulled her hand back. “No, my lady. I can’t let you give up the necklace. Your mother gave you those pearls the night of your come-out.”
“The necklace will bring a substantial sum, should it need to be sold.”
“You can’t give it up, my lady. Your mother said it was a family heirloom.”
“Put the necklace in, Milly,” Rachael said firmly. “I don’t want him to go without.”
Milly looked at the box in Rachael’s hand, then reluctantly put it in the reticule along with the rest of the jewels and trinkets Rachael intended to hand over. It was the least she could do to make sure he had plenty.
“Will Lord Benjamin be gone all afternoon?” Milly asked as she put the last of the jewels in the reticule and pulled the drawstring closed.
“Yes. He said he had another meeting with his father and he likely wouldn’t be home until late. I’ll be able to spend the entire day there.”
“Oh, my lady. I hope you don’t get caught.”
“I won’t Milly. We’ll be back in plenty of time.”
Milly shook her head, then gathered the last of the things Rachael wanted to take with her, and they left her rooms. She walked down the stairs with Milly close behind her. Henley was waiting at the door with her cloak in his hands.
“It’s a good day for a walk,” he said as he placed her cloak around her shoulders.
“Yes, Henley. A perfect day.”
“Will you and the master be dining in?” he asked as he opened the door.
“Yes. His lordship said he might be late, but I’ll wait until he arrives before we eat.”
“Very good, my lady.”
Rachael walked through the open door into the bright sunshine. She walked across the portico, down the four steps, then over the short walk that led to the street. She couldn’t wait to reach King Street.
When they reached St. James Park, she took the shortest path across the lush lawns, then Milly hailed a hansom cab and they drove off.
When they arrived, Rachael dismounted, then nearly ran up the short walk to the house.
Henry McDonald opened the door, then stepped back. Rachael rushed inside and raced across the room as the door closed behind her.
. . .
Gnarled fingers reached inside his chest and gripped his heart with a painful clench. This is what he’d feared when he’d seen her dismount from the hansom cab a week earlier. Since then, he’d followed her each time she’d left the park. He’d lost her trail the first time, but was more successful the next. Today, however, was the first time he’d gotten a glimpse of the man she’d come here to meet.
He was tall, with a lean build and dark hair. Ben couldn’t see the man’s features clearly enough to know if he was handsome or not, but that didn’t matter. What he noticed was how eager Rachael had been to enter the house. How enthusiastically she’d rushed to meet her lover.
Ben clenched his hands into tight fists. He wanted to kill the man his wife had come here to meet. Then, he wanted to kill her.
Were all women evil deceivers? Were all women as incapable of being trusted as his mother had been? As his wife obviously was.
He thought of his mother. She’d poisoned Gideon’s mother while pretending to be her best friend. All because she was desperate to be the future Duchess of Townsend. And, to keep from being exposed, she’d killed the doctor when he discovered what she’d done.
Then, she was slowly poisoning her husband’s heir, the future Duke of Townsend. All because she wanted her own son―him―to be the next duke. And she would have killed anyone who stood in her way.
All the while she was committing these heinous murders, she played the part of the loving wife and mother. And she would have continued in her deceitful role if Gideon’s wife hadn’t discovered that Gideon was being poisoned, and saved him.
Ben looked at the house his wife had entered. Looked at the closed door and thought of the man she’d run to meet.
How could she do this? How could she take the vows she had on their wedding day, when all along her lover lived a short distance away from her? How could she demand that Ben promise to be faithful to her, when she had no intention of being faithful to him?
His temper rose to an uncontrollable level, and before he could tamp down his anger, he dismounted from his horse and stormed toward the house. His angry footsteps ate up the distance across the cobbled street with the determination of a regiment of foot soldiers going into battle.
By the time he reached the door, he was livid. He had no intention of knocking. No intention of giving them any warning. He didn’t want them to be able to hide, or pretend that nothing was going on. He wanted to catch his wife in the act of adultery. He didn’t intend for her to have an escape from her crime.
If she thought she’d suffered because of her previous scandal, what she’d endured was nothing compared to the public humiliation he’d force her to bear. He’d ruin her. He’d ruin her sisters. Her parents. Everyone who’d overlooked what had happened before. This time there would be nothing left for her but banishment.
He reached out
his hand and clamped his fingers around the knob. With a mighty turn, then a push, he kicked the door. It flew open with such force that the wood crashed against the wall with the sound of a gunshot.
He searched the room, expecting to catch his wife in the arms of her lover. What he saw punched him in the gut with the force of a battering ram.
The man he thought his wife had come to meet stood on the opposite side of the room. There was a child of about three in his arms. He held the frightened little girl closer to him when Ben barged into the room and wrapped his other arm protectively around the shoulders of a woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to Rachael’s maid, Milly.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the man said, handing the child to the woman, then stepping in front of his wife and child to protect them. He stood up to Ben with a bravery Ben had to admire.
But Ben couldn’t force an answer from his mouth. He was too dazed from the sight of his wife cradling a babe in her arms. A babe that looked nothing like her, but neither did the golden-haired babe look anything like the dark-haired husband and wife facing him, or their dark-haired children.
“Rachael?” he whispered.
Her face was void of color. Her wide-open eyes were filled with fright. She was terrified. Of him. Of what he’d discovered.
He took a deep breath and tried to repair the damage he’d done when he’d barged into a stranger’s house and frightened an innocent family to death. He turned to face the man still holding his wife―his very pregnant wife.
“I extend my apologies, Mister…”
“McDonald, my lord. Henry McDonald.”
“Mr. McDonald.” He followed his greeting with a bow. “And I am Lord Benjamin Waverley. Lady Rachael’s husband.”
“Yes, my lord,” Henry McDonald said with a smile on his face. “We gathered as much.”
“As you might imagine, I was… um…taken by surprise, to see my wife enter a stranger’s house.”
“Especially when a strange man opened the door to let her in,” Mr. McDonald added.
Ben couldn’t help but feel sheepish at that statement. “Yes. That did strike me as odd.” Ben turned to look at the front door he’d kicked open.
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have been home,” Henry McDonald said. But I was given a half-day off as my employer didn’t need me this afternoon. I have a position with the Earl of Rudland. I’m a secretary.”
“I’m familiar with Lord Rudland.”
“I’ve been in his employ for nearly ten years.”
“That speaks well of you. Rudland is a demanding man.”
McDonald smiled. “He can be. He can also be very generous.”
The man studied Ben for a moment, then turned his gaze to where Rachael stood with the babe in her hands. “But, I’m sure you didn’t come to visit me or my family, but your wife. My family and I will go to another part of the house so you can have some privacy. Or, perhaps you’d like to go to the garden. It’s quite secluded.”
“Thank you, Mr. McDonald,” Ben said.
Henry McDonald escorted his family from the room and Milly followed. But first she walked to where Rachael stood with the child and held out her hands to take her.
“No,” he said. “The child will stay.”
Milly bobbed a curtsy and followed the McDonalds out of the room. But not before she gave her mistress a look filled with concern.
He studied Rachael and the babe in her arms for several moments before he could find the words to speak. “I take it you know your way to the garden,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. Struggling to keep the anger from his tone. Striving―and failing―to keep the frustration from surfacing.
She nodded, and gathered up a blanket, then wrapped it around the babe. She turned and walked down a long hallway, then entered a small study, then exited a side door. The door led to a neatly tended flower garden, surrounded by a stone wall.
Ben followed Rachael down a narrow path. She stopped when she reached a cement bench at the side of the path. She lifted her gaze and he motioned for her to sit.
When she’d settled the babe in her lap, he glared at her with more pent up annoyance than he thought it was possible for a person to experience. A hundred questions flashed through his mind, but only one answer seemed important.
He turned away from her and locked his hands behind his back. Then, in a low, dangerous tone, he asked the questions he knew would change his world. The answers to which would leave him feeling as if he’d fought a battle–and lost.
“Am I correct in assuming the babe is yours?” he asked.
Her answer wasn’t immediate, nor was her response unexpected. “Yes.”
He turned slowly until he faced her. Then, he asked the question he most wanted to remain unanswered. “Who is the babe’s father?”
This answer was slower in coming than the first had been. And her reply was totally unexpected.
“I don’t know.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rachael saw the surprise on his face. Watched deep furrows etch across his brow. Noticed the hands at his side tighten to knotted fists.
“What did you say?”
Rachael wanted to lower her head and avoid looking at him, but she forced herself to keep her gaze locked with his. “I don’t know the father’s identity.”
“Don’t know? Or refuse to divulge his identity?”
“Does it matter?”
At first she thought he was going to demand a response, but he didn’t. Instead he asked, “What’s her name?”
Rachael lowered her gaze and brushed the backs of her fingers down little Claire’s cheeks. “Claire. Claire Marie.”
Rachael wanted to gather Claire close to her to protect her, but the babe was so fascinated by the man towering before her that she refused to look away from him. When he spoke, his deep, rich voice excited her and she squirmed in Rachael’s lap. She waved her tiny hands as if she wanted to draw his attention. When that didn’t have the desired result, she blew messy bubbles and bounced up and down on Rachael’s lap. She was as animated as Rachael had ever seen her.
Ben watched her with interest, but his face remained impassive. Expressionless.
“When were you going to tell me about her?”
There was a dangerous calmness to his question.
“Or weren’t you?”
She heard the savage intake of his breath when he realized that perhaps she hadn’t intended to tell him about Claire. If he had violent tendencies, she might be afraid of him. But he didn’t. He was angry at her for deceiving him, but he’d never harm her. Or the child.
He took a step closer to her. His nearness forced her to lift her chin in order to look at him.
“Didn’t your father think I’d want to know you had a child before I married you? Or was he so afraid I’d back out of our agreement if I found out that he kept it from me?”
She lowered her gaze. “He doesn’t know,” she whispered. “Neither does my mother. No one knows except Milly.”
“Bloody hell,” he rasped. “How did you manage to keep it from them?”
Rachael brushed Claire’s soft, downy hair from her forehead, then shifted the babe in her lap. “I couldn’t have done it without Milly’s help. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mother. She’d suffered enough already.
“I’d become a pariah. Invitations had stopped, not only for me and my sisters. But for my parents as well. All anyone could talk about was what had happened at Julia Bentley’s house party, and speculate on who had ruined me.
“When I realized I was… going to have a baby, I couldn’t tell her.”
She thought his expression had softened the slightest, but knew it was wishful hoping on her part. He turned away from her and locked his hands behind his back. He didn’t speak for several long moments.
“What did you do?” he finally asked.
“I left.”
He turned to face her. “You left? Alone?”
“I went with Milly.”
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Ben walked toward her and sat down on the bench next to her, Claire squirmed until she was facing him. She was enthralled with him, watched every move he made.
“Go on,” he demanded.
“Milly invented an elderly relative that had fallen ill and needed care. She said she had no choice but to go to her. I convinced Mother that it would be best if I went with her, although it didn’t take much convincing. She and Father were all too glad to send me away.”
“Where did you go?”
“We went to the Lake District in Cumbria. We rented a small cottage outside of Penrith.”
“You traveled all that way alone?”
He sounded angry, as if what she’d done was terribly foolish. “We had to. I couldn’t risk being seen by anyone who might recognize me.”
“How long were you there?”
“A little more than six months. Until Claire was born and I was well enough to travel. We brought Claire here, to live with Milly’s sister. She’s been here ever since.”
Claire struggled to get closer to him. She was fascinated with him and wanted to touch him. It was as if she needed to make sure he was real.
Ben studied Claire the same, as if she was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.
“How old is she?”
“She’s eight months old.”
Claire lunged toward Ben. Rachael lost her hold and the babe grabbed a fistful of Ben’s jacket sleeve. She held on for all she was worth.
Rachael pulled the material free from her grasp, but once she knew it was within her reach, she refused to give up. The more Rachael restrained her, the harder she fought. And the angrier she became.
Rachael knew Claire was ready to voice her disgust in a loud unladylike manner. Just as she was ready to scream, Ben scooped her into his arms. He crossed his left ankle of his right knee and placed her on his thigh. Rachael was as surprised by his actions as Claire was.
Claire looked at him with open confusion, then reached up to touch his cheek.
Such familiarity was a little too much to expect Ben to tolerate the first time he’d met Claire. He held her tiny little hand in his and removed it.