‘You have a visitor, my lord.’
He rested his forearms on his thighs and stared at the carpet, a twisted mess of greens and blues. Did he really want company? Friends to drag him into St James’s where they’d drink and wench and laugh until they couldn’t stand and finish the night in some whore’s bed.
He shuddered. ‘Not tonight,’ he called out. He forced himself to his feet. Tomorrow. He’d go out tomorrow. Or later in the week. He didn’t have the heart for it tonight.
Loss was best suffered in private.
Yet he couldn’t just sit here staring at the walls. The papers on his desk caught his eye. Work. There was always lots of work in the management of an estate. He wanted it in tiptop shape for Christopher. Or Christopher’s son.
A pang shot through his chest. Regret. For the child he might have had? Not possible, surely?
He’d always known he wouldn’t have a child.
And yet he couldn’t help wondering what kind of babe he and Rosabella would have made together.
He sat down in front of the pile of papers and read his steward’s note about the tenant who couldn’t pay his rent.
The door opened.
He cursed. ‘I’m busy.’
It closed again.
The tenant wasn’t lazy, he’d had bad luck.
Whoever had entered hadn’t left. He could hear them breathing. With a sigh he lifted his head.
He shot to his feet. ‘Rosabella?’
She stood in the gloom and for a moment he thought he was seeing things. She looked pale and drawn and exceedingly nervous.
His heart ached for the pain he saw on her face.
‘Why are you here?’ Now there was a welcome. He came around the desk. ‘Please, sit down.’
She clasped her reticule in front of her like a shield. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting your work.’
She looked ready to flee.
‘Not at all. I am glad of the break. Can I offer you some wine?’
She shook her head and perched on the edge of a sofa. Clearly whatever it was she had come to say, she didn’t plan to stay long. He blinked again, just to make sure the wine hadn’t caused her apparition.
He sat beside her. Not touching her, though he wanted to, but near enough to smell the scent of jasmine, to see the rapid beat of the pulse at her temple. She swallowed as if she was afraid. Perhaps she thought he’d ravish her. Again. Hell, he really had treated her badly.
‘How can I be of service?’
‘Your mother came to see me this afternoon.’
Cold filled his veins. He tried hard not to care, but his little nun had burrowed deep into his heart, and knowing what his mother would have told her made him feel sick. Ashamed.
‘So you know I’m a bastard.’ He slapped the words down in front of her to prove he didn’t care.
‘Oh, Garth, I’m so sorry.’
‘You are sorry? The accident of my birth has nothing to do with you.’
‘No, I mean I’m so sorry about what I said.’ Her low voice trembled, her words were jerky.
He must be misunderstanding her meaning. He frowned. ‘You said nothing that wasn’t true.’
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes, the gold and the brown melding together. She struggled to speak.
His chest ached at the sight of her sadness. ‘Please, Rosabella, don’t cry. It was wrong of me not to tell you. It is good that you know. You were right about me. I cannot give you the love you deserve.’
The tears welled over, running down her cheeks. She gasped for breath. ‘Oh, Garth, no.’
He took her hands. ‘I am so sorry, Rosabella. I did you a terrible wrong. I should never have laid a finger on you. I knew right from the beginning you were different. Too good for me. I am an evil rotten bastard.’ He gave a short painful laugh, an attempt to lighten the moment. ‘In every way.’
Her fingers curled around his. ‘No. You are not evil. I was cruel to say what I did.’
He still didn’t understand. ‘You were right. I don’t have a heart. Never have had.’
But the longer she stayed, the more aware he was of her perfume and her delectable body, and the memories of strawberries by the fire. Next he’d be throwing her on the floor and kissing her until she forgot who he was.
‘You are not listening.’
Listening. He was barely breathing. He got up and moved to the hearth. He forced a smile. ‘You shouldn’t have come, but I thank you. You have a kind heart and deserve a good man.’
Her chin wobbled. ‘How can you say I am kind when I said such awful things? All your life you have lived without love and yet you said you loved me. I was so busy thinking about myself, I didn’t hear you.’
Something in his chest ached. The heart he denied having, he presumed. An oddly sweet feeling he recalled from his boyhood, when his grandmother was kind. Was that also love?
If so, he wasn’t sure what to do with this version of it either. He came back and took both of her hands in his, looking down into her lovely face, wishing he could make her feel better. ‘Please, Rosabella, you have no reason to blame yourself. You found the will and have rescued your sisters. I am sure you will soon find the right man, too. Please, love, no more tears.’
Love. God, had he said it again? Hopefully she wouldn’t notice.
She sniffled. ‘I have something I need to say.’
‘No more tonight.’ He really couldn’t stand to see her so anguished. Over him. Over his heartlessness.
‘You need to go home. We can’t have you ruining your reputation, now can we?’
She pulled her hand free of his. He felt the loss keenly. Her face turned serious. Once more she looked like a Madonna, cool and calm and untouchable. A smile tugged at his lips at the memory. It was the face he’d adored the moment he saw her. Something too big swelled up in his chest, making it difficult to breathe, a tenderness so vast he couldn’t contain it. So this was love, too.
If only he’d discovered it earlier.
But no. He was the wrong man for her. He’d never be able to get it right. Love her as she deserved.
‘May I escort you home?’
‘I have something I want to say.’ She went down on one knee, like a supplicant at an altar.
Shocked, he stared at her. ‘What are you doing? Get up.’ He reached out to bring her to her feet.
She grabbed one of his hands in both of hers.
The touch jolted through him.
Rosabella stared up at him. So darkly handsome. So lean and tall. His eyes were shadowed with concern, his frown deepening by the moment.
He had no idea why she’d come here tonight or what she was trying to tell him. It might even be too late. All his life he’d been denied love. And she, who professed she loved him in her heart, who thought she knew all about love, had thrown his words in his face.
He’d accepted her rejection, because he really hadn’t expected her to love him back.
She prayed she wasn’t too late.
‘Garth Evernden, I love you. Will you marry me?’
His expression turned wary and puzzled. ‘Rosabella, no,’ he said softly. ‘You do not need to do this.’
‘I do,’ she said, her voice catching. ‘You see, I was too cowardly to take the risk of believing you when you said it. I feared you didn’t mean it.’
His head came up, comprehension slowly dawning on his face.
‘And when you gave up so easily,’ she whispered, ‘I believed it confirmed my suspicions that you were saying it to get your own way. Only I was wrong. You gave up, because you didn’t believe anyone could love you. And, Garth, I do, I really do.’ She gripped his hand hard. ‘You must believe me.’
His mouth kicked up at one corner. Devils danced in his eyes. He pulled her up to her feet. ‘This poor fool has been believing you every time you opened your lovely mouth.’
‘Then you’ll have me back?’
‘Will I?’ He swooped in to kiss her. A dizzying warm loving kiss that came to an end all too so
on. He raised his head. ‘But, Rosabella, are you sure? I couldn’t bear it if you changed your mind.’
‘Love doesn’t change its mind. For better or worse, I love you, Garth.’
His eyes glittered with moisture and then he laughed, albeit a little thickly. ‘I love you, too, little nun.’
‘I’m hardly little. And definitely not a nun.’
‘Ah, but you are my kind of nun.’ He covered her mouth with his and swept her up in a tide of desire.
This was right. This was true. She could feel the love when he held her.
This was where she belonged. In his arms.
‘I need to sit down,’ he said with a rueful smile after a while. ‘My knees feel a little weak.’
‘Mine, too. With relief. I wasn’t sure you would take me back.’
‘Oh, Rosabella. How could you doubt it?’
He sat on the sofa and settled her on his lap, cradling her head against his chest as if she was more precious than jewels. They sat quietly for a moment, their hearts beating in unison. It felt so comfortable, as if she’d come home. But before she could settle, she had one more thing to say. ‘Garth, about children.’ She felt his body shift, his mouth open. She touched a finger to his lips. ‘I can understand now why you might not wish for children of your own. As long as we are together, it will be enough.’
He kissed her fingertip and captured her hand in his. ‘Your generosity unmans me. I know how much store you set by a child.’
‘My sisters are sure to have children. I will be a wonderful aunt.’
He huffed out a breath. ‘I have to tell you, I had grave doubts about my suitability for fatherhood, but it is not the only reason for not wanting them.’
‘Tell me.’
‘You know my situation. You know I have a younger brother. Lord Evernden’s true son. I made a promise that my brother or his son would one day inherit the title that should have been his.’
The man had depths of generosity she’d never realised. ‘I should have known your intentions were honourable.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘It is not something I like bruited abroad.’
‘You are a good man, Garth. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’
‘If we had made a child…’ His voice cracked a little and he took a quick breath. ‘If it had come to pass, I’m sure I would have loved it.’
‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘And I love you for that, too.’
A soft sadness filled the room. A bittersweet regret tempered by their love. The mist of tears filled her vision. He kissed her cheek softly.
She sighed and nestled into his neck, content to sit quietly and hold him.
A door crashed open behind them. Garth put her aside and rose to his feet.
A tall fair-haired gentlemen stood grinning on the threshold. ‘Garth, you dog. I might have guessed why your man didn’t want to let me in.’
Garth pulled Rosabella to her feet and held her close in a move that was all about protection. ‘Kit, this is Lady Rosabella, my future wife.’
The young man’s open face looked comically shocked. ‘Not you, too, and after all you said about me and Mark?’
‘Rosabella, this is my younger brother, Christopher Evernden.’ He peered over his brother’s shoulder. ‘And out in the hallway, pretending not to see us, is his wife, Sylvia.’
A lovely blonde with a babe in her arms squeezed past his brother’s wide shoulders.
The Duke’s daughter. Rosabella dipped a deep curtsy. ‘My lady.’
‘Ah, I see you have been fully educated by my mama-in-law,’ the young woman said quietly. ‘I suppose she failed to tell you that my mother was a courtesan.’
Rosa’s jaw dropped. She glanced at Garth, who grinned and nodded. Then his face turned sombre. ‘What brought you home, little brother? Not trouble, I hope?’
‘No trouble,’ the young man said, hugging his wife and tickling the baby’s chin with the other hand. ‘I made a fortune over there. Lots of opportunity for a man who has a mind to work. But Sylvia’s father left her an estate in Hampshire. A nice-sized piece of ground. With this young fellow coming along so well and Sylvia missing her brother, the Duke, you know—’ his hazel eyes twinkled ‘—we thought we’d come home to live.’
Garth clasped his brother’s hand. ‘Welcome home.’
‘It is good to be here. May I greet my future sister-in-law with a brotherly kiss?’
‘On the hand,’ Garth said, half laughing, half serious.
The love between these two brothers was clear and bright as they grinned at each other.
Garth peered down at his nephew, fair and with blue eyes like his parents. ‘A true Evernden.’
‘Hold him,’ Sylvia said, placing the child in his arms.
His expression went from comical dismay as he took the bundle to one of adoration. ‘He’s a fine little man.’
‘Isn’t he, though?’ Christopher said with smug satisfaction. He smiled at Rosa. ‘No doubt you’ll be equally blessed in time.’
Rosabella flinched. Garth looked at her face and thrust the child back at his brother. ‘Damn,’ he said softly.
Christopher frowned. ‘What have I said?’
Garth shrugged. ‘Rosabella has agreed—the title is to come back to you, or to your son.’
‘Oh,’ Lady Sylvia said, with concern in her eyes as she looked at her husband.
Christopher’s lips thinned. ‘Mother told me about your decision.’
‘I knew she would,’ Garth said.
His brother raised a brow at his wife and she nodded. Clearly they’d talked about this, and Rosa, seeing the pain in Garth’s eyes, wondered if this was the right time to discuss such a sensitive matter.
Christopher must have sensed it, too, because there was compassion in his eyes when he spoke. ‘When Mother wrote to me, I can’t deny I was pleased. It felt just. Fair. I admired you for it. Not that I ever envied you the title, you know. I never realised you were…’
‘A bastard.’ Garth’s voice was harsh, his face like granite, but Rosa could feel the rawness of the wound he was desperately trying to hide. She wanted to hold him, but knew his pride would rebel at any sign of sympathy.
Christopher gave a quick shake of his head. ‘Garth, I hated the way they treated you, but I didn’t much care for the way you acted with Mother either.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought, given your chosen style of life, it might be for the best.’ He gazed down into the face of his sleeping son. ‘I can’t do it, Garth. I can’t deny you the joy I felt when this little fellow was placed in my arms. Really, I can’t.’ He leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek. ‘The title. The land. They mean nothing by comparison. You made a great older brother. You’ll be a good father. Don’t deny yourself something as wonderful as this, because of what our parents did.’
Garth swallowed hard. ‘Kit, no.’ He swallowed again.
‘It would be a greater wrong than anything Mother did, my dear fellow. You deserve this as much as anyone. If not more.’
Rosa’s heart contracted at the sight of the sadness leaving her beloved’s face. It was as if she could see the weight of guilt leave his shoulders. She squeezed his hand, because she couldn’t speak a word.
‘I made a promise,’ Garth said, still hesitating. ‘I’d be going back on my word.’
‘You’ll be relieving me of a burden. One estate to manage along with my business interests are all that I need. Provide my son here with a cousin. Remember the fun we had as lads. You and me. I want that for my son and yours.’
The expression on Garth’s face was like a boy who had found the best present of all.
‘Thank you,’ Garth said. He reached out and his brother took his hand, then pulled him in for a brief hug.
The baby squeaked a protest and the two men parted.
A tear ran down Rosa’s cheek and she dashed it away. Tears when she felt so happy. How ridiculous.
Taking the baby, Sylvia beamed. ‘When is the wedding?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Garth said. ‘At Mark’s house. If he is still willing.’
‘Oh, no,’ Sylvia said, laughing. ‘The famous ladies’ man is caught and he thinks he is sneaking off to some private affair? Mais non.’
Only now did Rosabella realize her future sister-in-law had a faint French accent. How interesting.
‘Have mercy, woman,’ Garth said, shaking his head.
‘Not at all, mon cher. You will be married at St George’s or I will know the reason why.’
It sounded wonderful to Rosa. With time to put all her affairs in order, her sisters could join them. Garth must have seen the hope on her face because he held up his hands in defeat. ‘Whatever your heart desires, my love.’
His love.
‘Oh, Garth, thank you.’
The church was full, but Rosa only had eyes for three people as she walked down the aisle on Mark’s arm.
Her sisters, Meg with her arm around the smaller Sam, sitting in the pew beside Sylvia and the baby. Their hazel eyes were bright like their futures. And then there was the tall figure dressed in black at the altar. Garth standing beside his brother, waiting.
He smiled as their gazes locked. Not the mocking smile of old, but a smile of pleasure. He looked so handsome and happy, her eyes misted with gladness.
Feeling as if she was floating, she walked towards her bridegroom. He strode up the aisle to meet her halfway and took possession of her arm. Mark relinquished her with an admonishing shake of his head and followed them to the altar rail.
‘Are you sure?’ Garth whispered as they approached the waiting vicar. ‘It isn’t too late to change your mind.’
It might take years for him to understand the constancy of her love, but they had years and years. She smiled up at him. ‘I love you, Garth.’
He let go a breath, as if he had really feared she’d change her mind.
He leaned closer. ‘Little nun, you honour me. You make me a better man. I love you.’
She gazed deep into his eyes and shining back at her was the truth of his love.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459220867
Copyright © 2011 by Michèle Ann Young
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
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