Inconvenient Affair

by Kruger, Mary

  Gillian stumbled and fell, and Thea reached her side, dropping to the ground and gathering her into her arms. “Gillian. Honey, are you hurt—”

  “I—saw you,” Gillian gasped, her small hands, balled into fists, beating at Thea’s shoulders. “I saw you.”

  “Yes, honey. You saw me do what?”

  “I saw what the horse did. You almost fell!”

  “Shh. Shh.” Thea tightened her embrace, rocking back and forth as Gillian’s voice rose. “But I didn’t, honey, and I’m not hurt. I’m all right.”

  “But—I saw you. The horse—the horse reared and you went back—just like Mother, and—”

  “Gillian.” Thea pulled away, putting her hands on the girl’s shoulders, “look at me. Look at me. There, that’s better.” With gentle fingers, she reached out and brushed a tangled strand of hair away from Gillian’s eyes. “I’m not hurt. I promise you.”

  “You do?” Gillian’s eyes searched hers. “But when my mother’s horse did that, she fell and she died—”

  “Merciful heavens!” Thea exclaimed. “Gillian, were you there when your mother died?”

  “Yes! And it’s my fault, my fault.” She threw herself onto Thea’s chest, sobbing in an agony of remorse and long-suppressed pain. “I made it happen.”

  “No, honey, surely not.” Dear lord, no wonder the poor child feared horses. “Honey, how did you cause it? Did you startle the horse?”

  “No, no! Mother wouldn’t let me near it!”

  “Then how, honey?”

  “Because I wanted it to happen! Because she called me ugly and said I should have been a boy and I hated her, I hated her. And I wanted something bad to happen to her, but not that. Not ever that.” Gillian stared up at her, the tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t.”

  “No, lovey. I know it. I know.” Thea pulled her close and rocked her back and forth while she cried, her mind awhirl. Merciful heavens. The child had carried the guilt of this for three years. It was a wonder she was as sweet and natural as she was, with such a burden. “Gillian. Gillian, hush now,” she said, after a few minutes, when Gillian’s sobs had turned to hiccups. “Hush and listen to me.” Gillian pulled back, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Are you listening?” Gillian nodded. “This is very important, honey, and I want you to believe I’m telling you the truth. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

  “But I wished it! I did!”

  “Yes, I’m sure you did. Your mother hurt you, honey, and when someone hurts you, the first thing you want to do is hurt back. But if every time someone wished another person harm, that wish came true, there wouldn’t be many people left.” She smoothed Gillian’s hair back from her face. “Everyone does it, honey. That doesn’t mean it’s right, and it certainly doesn’t mean someone actually gets hurt that way.” Thea sat back, her eyes holding Gillian’s. “What happened to your mother was an accident. You didn’t cause it.”

  “But I did—”

  “No. You didn’t. Honey, do you think I would lie to you?”

  Gillian considered that for a moment, and then shook her head. “No.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. And your father would tell you the same thing.”

  “You won’t tell him!”

  “No, not if you don’t want me to. Gillian, just because you wish for something doesn’t mean it will come true. Surely you know that?”

  “I wished for a kitten,” she said in a low voice, her head bent, and Thea smiled. “And I wish you could be my new mother, instead of Miss Powell.”

  “Oh, Gillian—”

  “She’s like my mother. She doesn’t like me, either.”

  Thea sat back on her heels, feeling helpless. The poor child, suffering for years under a burden of guilt she didn’t deserve, and now saddled with a selfish woman as stepmother. She couldn’t deny Gillian’s words; she’d promised not to lie. “I’d like to be your mother, too, honey,” she said, and Gillian raised her head sharply, her eyes filling with hope. “But it can’t be that way.”

  “But I want you to! It’s not fair.”

  “I know. But I promise that I will always be your friend. All right?”

  “All right,” Gillian said, after a moment.

  “Good.” Thea got briskly to her feet, before she burst into tears like a child herself. “Wait here, I’ll get Maggie and we can go home together.”

  “Aren’t you scared?” Gillian’s eyes were huge as she scrambled to her feet.

  “Of Maggie? Of course not. It’s not the first time I’ve had that happen. And it wouldn’t have been the first time I fell.” Thea unlooped the reins and led the horse toward Gillian. “In fact, if you weren’t here, I’d ride home.”

  “You would?” Gillian’s face was thoughtful as she fell into step beside Thea, their hands linked. “Thea? Would you teach me to ride?”

  Thea stopped and looked down at her in amazement. “Of course I will, kitten,” she said, striving to sound calm. “Come, let’s go home.”

  Jeremy met them in the hall as they came in, laughing and breathless from having raced up the drive. A slow smile lighted his face as he watched Thea struggle to regain her composure. “Running, Mrs. Jameson? How very unsuitable for a lady.”

  “If I weren’t a lady I’d stick my tongue out at you,” she retorted, forgetting, in the stress of what had just happened, her own misery.

  “That might be interesting,” he said, and gave her such a long, considering look that she turned red.

  “Daddy, Thea almost fell off Maggie,” Gillian said.

  Jeremy’s eyes went swiftly to Thea, and he took an impulsive step forward. “You’re not hurt?”

  “Of course not, Jeremy. I’m fine,” Thea said, surprised. Was he actually concerned? But then, it was perfectly proper to be concerned about a friend.

  “It was awful, Daddy,” Gillian said, her eyes large and round.

  “I’m all right, and so is Maggie.” Thea smiled down at Gillian and ruffled her hair. “I must go change. I’ll see you at dinner, Jeremy.”

  “Yes. Thea.”

  She turned from the stairs. “Yes?”

  He shook his head, an odd little smile upon his face. “Nothing,” he said, and Thea continued on her way. She loved him. Oh, how she loved him, and he would never be hers.

  “Miss Powell! Hold up, there!”

  Evadne, strolling through the garden, turned and saw Francis, on the other side of the hedge. She started to smile, to raise her hand in welcome, but then a little imp of mischief caught her and she began to run instead. This was fun! Much better than staying in that stuffy old house and listening to Mama prose on about her responsibilities once she married. As to her fiancé, she rarely saw him, which didn’t bother her. He treated her as a child, not the woman she knew she was.

  “Evadne!” Francis called. Evadne let out a giggle and lifted her skirts, giving him an entrancing sight of a neatly-turned ankle as she ran. She could hear him pounding along behind her, and almost imperceptibly she slowed her steps. It was quite thrilling when he suddenly caught at her arm, bringing her to a halt.

  “I say!” He stared down at her. “Whatever made you run like that?”

  “Oh, it’s you, sir!” she exclaimed, opening her eyes very wide.

  “Yes, who did you think?”

  “I didn’t know.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “La, sir, you gave me such a start!”

  Francis made a sudden move toward her, as if to comfort her, and then the corners of his lips twitched. They twitched again, and suddenly, he was laughing. Evadne stared at him a moment in chagrin, but his laugh was infectious. She joined in, her eyes sparkling up at him. “You, miss, are a minx,” Francis said with mock severity as he took her arm firmly in his. “I see through you, you know.”

  “I know,” she said as they strolled along, wondering why she wasn’t displeased. No one had ever seen through her before. It should have been disconcerting. “You are ever so much nicer
than Stanton about it. He just frowns at me, or ignores me.”

  “And which is worse, I wonder?”

  “Oh, ignoring me, by all means. Something I am persuaded you would never do, sir.”

  “No. Evadne.” He stopped, grasping her shoulders and turning her to face him. “What do you see in him?”

  “In Stanton?” Evadne tilted her head to the side, pretending to consider. “Why, he is wonderfully handsome, sir, do you not think so? And, of course, he is a viscount,” she went on, ignoring his gathering frown. “I know he’s not wealthy, precisely, else he wouldn’t be marrying me, but he does have all those lovely estates—”

  “Stop it.” Francis gave her a little shake, and she stared up at him, her eyes genuinely wide now. “He doesn’t love you. What does all that matter, against that?”

  Evadne tossed her head. “As I don’t love him, I expect we shall suit very well.”

  “Stop it,” he said again, and pulled her ruthlessly against him, smothering her words with his lips. Evadne made a little sound, of protest, of compliance, but she didn’t struggle.

  “Why, Mr. Thorne!” She stared up at him when he at last released her. “Such a thing to do!” And she threw her arms enthusiastically around his neck. Francis was not about to refuse such an ardent invitation, and they stood, entwined, for what felt like eternity.

  “You’ll marry me,” he said, when at last they separated and she was standing with her head resting on his shoulder.

  “I will?” She pulled back, the light of mischief dancing in her eyes again. “Have I any say in the matter?”

  “No.” Francis tightened his grip, so that she could barely breathe. “None.”

  “You have no money and no prospects,” she pointed out.

  “Damn, don’t you think I realize that? But if I could find someone to sponsor me I’d gladly stand for Parliament, and make something of my life.”

  Evadne’s eyes brightened. “Oh, do you enjoy politics, sir? I’ve tried to talk to Stanton about it once or twice, but he ignores me.”

  “You would like to be a political wife, Evadne?”

  “Perhaps.” Her smile was tantalizing, filled with the headiness of the moment. He was hers, and she couldn’t resist teasing him just a little, goading him to say the one thing he had yet to say. “Perhaps I prefer Stanton.”

  Francis’s face darkened. “You don’t.”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps I do.”

  “Damn it, Evadne!” He released her so fast that she stumbled backwards. “What game is this you play with me?’

  “Oh, Francis!” She held out her hand, but his back was to her, and he didn’t see. “No game. I merely want you to—”

  “Have a title and a great deal of money,” he said, bitterly.

  “Well, they would be nice,” she said, candidly, and he gave her such a hard look that she hurried on. “But they don’t matter to me anymore, Francis, really they don’t! I have piles of money, and as for a title—”

  “You want to be a lady. By God, I thought I knew you.” He stared at her, breathing heavily. “I thought there was more to you than you let anyone see, and now I’m beginning to wonder. Was I wrong?”

  “No! Francis, there is more to me, but you don’t understand. I’m betrothed to Stanton, and—”

  “And is that the way you want it?”

  Joy shot through Evadne; she knew what he was saying. He was hers! Giddy with happiness, again she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, and Francis drew himself up.

  “That won’t do,” he said, sternly. “I want an answer from you, Evadne.”

  “Well, he is a viscount—”

  “That tears it,” he said, and turned on his heel.

  “Francis!” She picked up her skirts and ran after him, alarmed now. Too late she realized she’d gone too far. “I didn’t mean it—”

  “Go marry your viscount, Evadne,” he said, not breaking his stride. “I see I was wrong about you, after all.”

  “No! Francis!” she cried. Of course she would marry him. She loved him. He paused for a moment, but then continued on, walking away from her, walking out of her life.

  Evadne sank down to the ground on knees no longer strong enough to support her, watching him until he had disappeared around the corner of the house. “But you never said you love me,” she said, and burst into tears.

  Jeremy was just coming down the stairs into the hallway some mornings later when the front door opened, and Thea came in. “I’ll just see if your father’s busy—oh. Jeremy. There you are.”

  “Yes.” He crossed to her, smiling. Something had happened in his house in the last few days. Evadne, pleading a headache, was keeping to her room in a perpetual sulk; Francis went around with a dark look on his face, hardly speaking to anyone; and, worst of all, Thea avoided him completely. Evadne and Francis weren’t his concern, but Thea was. If he could not get her to stay with him for more than a few moments, how could he tell her how he felt? And how could he possibly do it in such a way so that she realized that he was not again trying to entice her into an affaire? He would have to break it off with Evadne, he thought suddenly, raising his chin. No matter the scandal, no matter the stain on his honor. Better that than to marry her, and make so many people unhappy.

  “I haven’t seen much of you the last few days,” he said, stopping in front of her and smiling.

  “Yes, well, I’ve been busy.” Thea’s tone was unconvincing as she looked down, her fingers pleating the skirt of her gown. “I’ve something to show you, though, outside. Have you a moment?”

  “For you, Thea, I have more than a moment.” She gave him a startled look as he took her arm, escorting her out the door. “In fact, if you would come inside afterwards and talk with me—”

  “Perhaps,” Thea broke in, pulling away from him. “This is important. Pay attention, mind.”

  “Yes, Thea. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

  “Stand right there.” She moved away, stopping on the bottom stair, and Jeremy looked around, seeing only the lawn and a milky-white sky. “All right, Gillian! We’re ready.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Gillian?” Jeremy frowned as he heard hoofbeats. He looked in their direction, and there, around the corner of the house, came Gillian, riding her pony at a sedate trot. Follett was beside her on his own mount, watching her with a sharp eye, but she apparently needed no such supervision. Gillian sat straight and tall, and her every movement bespoke confidence. She was riding. “My God,” he murmured. “My God, I didn’t think you’d do it.”

  “Gillian did most of it,” Thea said, softly, so as not to distract her. “She’s a very brave little girl.”

  “My God,” he said again, not taking his eyes from his daughter. “She was so scared. Did you ever find out why?”

  Thea stole a quick look at him. “Yes. She saw the accident that killed her mother.”

  Jeremy drew in his breath sharply. “Good God.” At that, he at last looked at Thea. She had done it. Thea, her face glowing with love and pride as she watched his daughter; Thea, who was made to be a mother but who, by a cruel irony of fate, never would be. He hadn’t forgotten the look on her face at Rochester when she had told him she couldn’t have a child. It didn’t matter. More than anything, he wanted her as his wife. “Good God, you did it.”

  “Yes,” Thea said, and her voice sounded flat, now that Gillian had rounded a curve in the drive and disappeared from sight. She could let her guard down and admit to some of the other feelings Gillian’s accomplishment had brought her. She had ostensibly come to Moulton to teach Gillian to ride. Now she had, and she no longer had an excuse for staying. It was time to go. It was time to leave Jeremy.

  “I did it, Daddy, did you see?” Gillian cried, running toward them. Jeremy stepped onto the drive, swinging her up into his arms. Thea, watching, swallowed past a lump in her throat. Father and daughter. For a time she had pretended that Gillian was hers, and
that she would stay at Moulton forever, with Jeremy. Now that pretense was over. Jeremy would marry someone else, and she would be out of his life.

  It hurt. Oh, how it hurt, more than it had when his engagement first had been announced. Now her last hopes had been shattered. She was nothing to Jeremy, nothing, not even his mistress. He’d made that clear. The irony was that, should he suggest it again, she would gladly become his mistress, in spite of her ideals, in spite of her child. Such was what she was reduced to. She loved him so much that she would take him on any terms whatsoever. It was not right, it would not even be particularly satisfying, but it was all she would have of him, and all she could ever expect.

  Jeremy, his eyes sparkling with happiness, turned toward her as he set Gillian down. “Thea. I don’t know how to thank you.” He took her hand, and though she tried to pull free, he would not release her. “You’ve given me my daughter back.”

  Thea smiled, acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on hers. Even this brief contact was welcome, sweet torture though it was. “She’s a lovely girl, Jeremy. You should be proud of her.”

  “I am. And of you.”

  “Daddy,” Gillian called, and Jeremy turned, at last releasing Thea’s hand. “Will you ride with me?”

  “Yes, poppet.” He turned back to Thea. “We’ll talk more later.”

  “Yes,” Thea said, and through a haze of tears watched father and daughter walk away. Her time here was done. Tomorrow she would leave, and when she next saw Jeremy, he would be married. The thought was too painful to bear.

  Francis came out to stand next to her on the step. “Stanton must be pleased with you. Even Evadne is impressed.”

  Thea blinked several times before turning to face him. “Evadne?”

  “Excuse me. Miss Powell.”

  “Mm-hm.” Thea turned to go back into the house. “I shall be leaving tomorrow, Fran. Will you escort me?” She would tell Francis the truth when they were away from Moulton. If she were to carry her charade off, she would need his help.