by Laura Landon
“And makes sure he finds matches for them?” Rachael asked. “Like he made for you?”
Ben met her gaze and held it. “Yes. Like he made for me. But Anne was too young to have a Season, and until she and Winnie have their come-out, we can’t risk anyone discovering what Mother did.”
“How do you think Anne will handle the news when she finds out?” Rachael asked.
“She’ll be devastated. Just like Winnie was.”
“And you?”
Ben leaned forward and braced his forearms on his thighs. He stared at the carpet beneath him, but didn’t really see the pattern. “I know I should hate her,” he admitted, “and most of the time I do.” He turned his head and looked into his wife’s eyes. “But she’s my mother.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “What kind of child hates his mother,” he said in a whispered voice.
Rachael laid her hand on his arm. The touch was soft, yet it offered more strength than he’d imagined any touch could.
“Jealousy is an illness, Ben. It can destroy the good in a person until they are capable of doing terrible things. Never doubt that your mother loved you. She simply loved other things more.”
Ben wasn’t sure how he felt. He’d lived with such guilt, convinced that he should hate his mother for what she’d done, yet unable to for no other reason than that she was his mother.
A tear rolled down his cheek, and Rachel drew him into a fierce hug. He fought for control as her healing arms held him fast. Then her cheek slid across his, taking his tears onto her own.
He drew slightly away, not ready to separate fully, but needing to read her eyes. For months he’d kept the fact that his mother was a murderer a secret from his wife. But now that she knew, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Except that it was replaced by another weight. The uncertainty of how Rachael would react to knowing that she’d married the son of a murderer. He searched her gaze, praying he’d see some sign to give him hope.
What she did gave him more hope than he imagined.
She clasped her small hands on either side of his face and brought him toward her. Then, she pressed her mouth against his and kissed him with as much passion and desire as he’d felt in any of their kisses before.
She opened her mouth atop his and he followed her lead. Their tongues met and battled in a desperate attempt to meld, then mate. He wanted her with a thirst that was unquenchable. He needed her with a desperation that was unbearable.
“Don’t ever keep anything from me again, Ben. No matter what it is.” She pressed her lips to his again. “I want to be there for you,” she said. “Your troubles are my troubles.” Then she kissed him again.
He deepened his kiss, then lifted his mouth. “I won’t,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ll never keep anything from you again.”
The distance to their room seemed miles away. The time it took to climb the steps and close the door behind them seemed an eternity. The effort it took to remove their clothes seemed Herculean.
The hours Ben held Rachael weren’t nearly long enough. Only a lifetime would satisfy his desire to have her in his arms. In his bed.
In his life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It had been a month since she’d found out what Ben’s mother had done. A month since she’d discovered what a cruel, heartless—even insane person the Duchess of Townsend was. During that time, Ben’s sisters had visited several times.
Winnie came alone the first time. She said Anne suffered from a headache and didn’t want to leave Townsend Manor, which Rachael doubted. She thought it was more likely that Anne was still angry with Ben and didn’t want to run the risk of seeing him.
The second time, Anne came with her sister. Rachael was glad. Her presence didn’t necessarily mean she’d forgiven Ben, but at least she wasn’t avoiding him. Perhaps the two could start the healing process now.
After talking to Winnie and Anne, and hearing all the questions Anne had, Rachael agreed with Ben. Anne needed to be told what her mother had done. She needed to know why their father couldn’t allow the duchess to return. It would be a hard pill to swallow, and would no doubt take a long time for Anne to come to terms with her mother’s insanity, but at least she’d understand why her siblings felt as they did about their mother. At least Anne would no longer hold her mother in such high esteem, and think everyone else was being unfair to her. But, until the Duke of Townsend decided his youngest daughter was mature enough to handle the truth, there was nothing anyone could do.
Ben’s father had also come to call on them several times as well. He insisted on seeing Claire each time, but Rachael knew seeing Claire wasn’t his main purpose for visiting. After he spent a certain amount of time fussing over her, he and Ben would closet themselves in Ben’s study, where they’d remain for a short time on some visits, and longer amounts of time on others.
Rachael always knew what information His Grace had discovered, because Ben told her what his father said after every visit.
The news so far wasn’t encouraging. No one had seen a sign of the duchess. It was as if she’d disappeared from England. But Rachael doubted that she had.
Ben was convinced that Anne knew where their mother was hiding, but refused to tell anyone. He was also sure she was sending her mother the pin money she’d saved. How else had their mother been able to survive this long?
The fact that the duchess hadn’t been located was unsettling. The longer she went without contacting anyone, the more desperate Rachael knew she must be.
Rachael was certain His Grace felt the same. Each time Ben’s father called on them, he showed more signs of how his wife’s absence was wearing on him. His lack of sleep was evident, and although he was still a striking figure of a man, he’d lost enough weight that his clothes no longer fit as they had a month earlier.
Rachael made a mental note to invite His Grace and Ben’s sisters for dinner soon. Not only did they need a distraction, but Rachael needed to make sure Ben’s father ate a good meal. She vowed not to let him leave the table until he’d had seconds of everything.
Rachael sat in the garden off the terrace behind the house with Claire in her lap. It was a beautiful day, and Rachael enjoyed the view.
She loved the time she spent alone with Claire. Loved the time when she could be by herself and think about the babe that would join Claire. Today was one of those days, but she’d been outside long enough. The heat of the day was fading, and a chill was starting to cool the air.
Rachael wrapped a blanket around Claire and stood. It was time to take her inside.
“The child looks a lot like Benjamin did at that age.”
Rachael spun in search of the speaker. Her gaze found the woman not far from her.
“I heard Ben’s marriage came complete with my first grandchild.”
Rachael’s heart pounded in her breast. She knew who the stranger was. They didn’t need to be introduced for her to know her identity. And be afraid.
Rachael searched the area. A thick hedge bordered the garden wall, and there was no opening that she was aware of. “How did you get inside?”
The Duchess of Townsend smiled, then took a step toward Rachael. “Meadowmont was one of His Grace’s favorite estates. Over the years, we visited several times. During one of the visits, the groundskeeper showed me several interesting escape routes and secret passageways that were necessary a century or two ago when certain Townsend ancestors needed to escape the king’s soldiers. I doubt they were intended for entering the grounds, only escaping, but I found the hidden openings served my purpose.”
“What do you want?” Rachael took another step away from Ben’s mother. Something about her presence frightened her.
The duchess took another step closer. “To see my grandchild of course. And, to—”
“Stop!” Rachael ordered.
Her Grace held up her hands in compliance. “You would keep me from seeing my first grandchild?”
“You ca
n see her from where you’re standing.” Rachael cast a frantic glance toward the house. If she occupied Her Grace long enough, surely Ben would come out in search of her. Or perhaps one of the servants would come to see if she needed anything.
“You would forbid me from holding her?” the duchess asked.
“Claire doesn’t wish to be held any longer. It’s time to take her inside for a nap.”
The expression on Her Grace’s face hardened. Her eyes blazed with icy hostility that sent shivers down Rachael’s spine.
“I’d heard that you were a kind and agreeable person, but it seems I was misinformed.”
“What do you want?”
“I had hoped that I could rely on you to help convince my son that I’m not as evil as he believes me to be. I’d hoped that I could rely on him to convince his father that what he believes I did is nothing but a misunderstanding.”
“Are you saying that you didn’t murder His Grace’s first wife?” Rachael knew she’d get a reaction. She was curious as to what that reaction would be.
Her Grace’s response was slow in coming. Then, the corners of her lips lifted in a malicious grin. And she laughed.
She laughed.
“Murder is such an ugly word, my dear. Not at all the word I’d use to describe what I did.”
“What word would you use, then, to describe taking an innocent woman’s life?”
The duchess’s features changed. The hostile glare in her eyes hardened, then turned spiteful. “Rebecca was hardly innocent. She did the unthinkable. She stole my most prized possession.” There was a slight pause. “Aren’t you going to ask what that was?”
Rachael shifted Claire in her arms. The babe was getting restless. She was tired and hungry. She needed to be fed and put down for a nap. But Rachael couldn’t take her inside. She needed to keep Ben’s mother here as long as she could.
“I don’t need to ask what you think she stole from you.”
“Then you know why she had to die. Edward was mine before he was hers. I was to be his duchess. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time until he offered for me. And then he met her.”
Her Grace’s eyes narrowed and turned icy with rage. “She was my best friend and she took the man I loved away from me. She made me look the fool. Everywhere I went, people pitied me. They laughed behind my back because I’d lost my chance to be a duchess, and I’d have to settle for a lesser title.” She slashed her hand through the air. “Can you imagine my humiliation?”
She spat the words as if she was reliving that time in her past all over again. As if the woman she’d killed had returned from the grave to pour acid on an open wound.
“After the birth of her son, the pathetic creature went into a fit of depression. When nothing Edward did brought her out of her melancholy, he had the gall to ask me to come to cheer her. Can you imagine? He begged me to help her. Wanted me to be her companion. To be the bitch’s nursemaid!”
Her Grace paced a few angry steps over the grassy area where she’d stood. “I wanted to kill her that first night I came to stay with her. But I couldn’t. Edward was hopelessly in love with her. I knew if I killed her too quickly, he’d never get over her death. Besides…” The corners of her lips lifted again to form a bitter smile. “…she needed to suffer for what she’d done to me. And I enjoyed every second of the pain she endured.”
Her Grace stopped, then focused on Rachael and little Claire. “But enough about that. I’m here because you’re going to help me get back what I’ve lost.”
Rachael gently bounced Claire in her arms. She was fussing with more enthusiasm and it wouldn’t be long before her fussing became more earnest.
“You can’t be serious,” Rachael answered, trying desperately to console Claire, yet keeping Ben’s mother here long enough to be discovered. “I can’t help you. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not after what you did.”
Her Grace took a step toward her. As if Claire realized the threat, she released an angry cry, loud enough to cause the birds in the trees to take flight.
“Oh, I think you will,” the duchess said, taking another step toward her. “Because if you don’t—”
“Rachael, is Claire all right?” Ben asked from behind her.
Rachael turned. She was so thankful to see him her knees weakened beneath her.
He didn’t see his mother at first. Rachael wasn’t sure if he would have if his mother hadn’t spoken. But she cried out before he reached her and Claire.
“Benjamin! Oh, my son.”
Ben stopped. “Mother?”
“Yes. Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“What are you doing? How did you get in here?”
“I’ve come to see you. I need you to help me. You’ve got to make your father see what a mistake he’s made. You’ve got to convince him that I need to return so things can be as they used to be.”
Ben stepped up to Rachael and put himself between Rachael and his mother. Rachael was glad for his protection.
“Nothing can be like it was before, Mother. Not after what you did.”
“But I did it for you. For the girls.”
“Mother,” he said, taking a step toward the woman. “Don’t you realize what you did?”
“Of course I know what I did. I cleared the path so I could become a duchess, and you and Winnifred and Anne could be children of a duke.”
“Mother, you murdered two innocent people and nearly killed a third.”
“Innocent?” the duchess screamed. “I’m sick to death of everyone thinking that bitch was innocent. She stole your father from me. Edward was mine and she took him! Do you hear me? He was mine!”
As if Ben realized how upset his mother was, he held up his hands to calm her. “I know that’s how it seems to you, but that’s not how it seems to Father.”
“Your father just needs time to accustom himself to what I did. In time he’ll realize that what I did was for the best. He’ll realize he was better off with me than with that weak nobody.”
“I don’t think so,” Mother.
The duchess slashed her hand through the air as if dismissing his comment. She paused and her expression turned more bitter. Her eyes filled with loathing. “It’s all her fault, you know. I would have succeeded if she hadn’t discovered what I’d done.”
“Who, Mother?”
“You know who. That witch that Sheffield married.”
“She saved Gideon, Mother. She saved his life.”
“She prevented you from being the future Duke of Townsend.”
“I didn’t want to be the next duke.”
“Of course you did. And she ruined my plans.”
The duchess paced as if out of control.
“She caused all these problems,” she said, turning to face Ben. “No one would have discovered what I’d done if she hadn’t told them. She deserves to pay for what she did.”
Rachael felt a stabbing of fear for Gideon’s wife, Eve. The Duchess of Townsend needed to be stopped or more people would die.
Rachael took a close look at Ben’s mother, at the demented look in her gaze. At the frantic movement of her eyes. Whether Ben realized it or not, his mother was sick. She was unstable and needed help.
“Mother, come with me,” Ben said, taking another step toward her.
“Yes,” the duchess said enthusiastically. “I knew you’d help me. I knew you’d convince your father to take me back.”
The duchess took a step toward them, and Ben took a step to meet her. “Yes, Mother. We’ll go to Father. He’ll know what to do. He’ll help you.”
The duchess stopped. “Help me? I don’t need help. I need to take my rightful place again. I need to go to London. The Season has already begun. I need to be there. I need new gowns. I need to host the annual Townsend ball.”
“No, Mother. You need to rest. You need someone to take care of you. You need—”
“No!” The Duchess of Townsend turned on her son with a vehe
ment look. She took one step back, then another. “You want to lock me away. Your father’s poisoned you against me. You don’t want to help me.”
“Yes I do, Mother. I want to help you but I can’t unless you come with me.”
“No!” The duchess stumbled, then righted herself. She turned as if she considered running, then stopped as if she realized it was impossible to outrun her son. She spun back toward Ben and lifted her arm. She pointed a pistol at the center of Ben’s chest.
Ben stopped.
“Don’t come one step closer, Benjamin.”
“Or you’ll what? Shoot me?”
“If I have to,” his mother shrieked in a loud, demented cry. “I won’t allow your Father to lock me away. I’m the Duchess of Townsend. He can’t treat me like I’m an old shoe to be tossed away. I belong—”
“You need to be where someone can help you,” Ben countered. His words pleaded with emotion.
Rachael could only imagine how difficult this was for him. The woman pointing a gun at him was his mother, after all.
He took another step toward her. “Put the gun down, Mother. You don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Rachael’s heart thundered in her chest. Her blood roared in her ears. Didn’t Ben realize how dangerous his mother was? How desperate?
If he did, it didn’t stop him from approaching her. He mistakenly thought because she was his mother, she wouldn’t harm him. But Rachael knew she would.
“Stop! Or I’ll shoot.”
The Duchess of Townsend’s expression changed, her features turned vile, her eyes glazed with insanity.
“No, Mother. You won’t shoot me.”
The Duchess of Townsend smiled, but the grin on her face was more frightening than any expression Rachael had ever seen.
“You’re right, Benjamin. I could never shoot you.”
The hand holding the gun trembled violently enough that Rachael could see it move. Then, the duchess lowered her hand.
Rachael breathed a sigh of relief. Ben had been able to talk his mother into giving up.