She should have trusted him as her heart had demanded. Her vision blurred. “I wish I’d thought of it.” Her voice caught.
He looked up. “Ellie, don’t, please. Let me finish. With Napoleon imprisoned on Elba, I thought the war was over. It was time to put my personal affairs in order.”
“But why were you so set on recovering the letter, if you thought it proved your guilt?”
This was the moment Garrick had feared most. He could not draw back. He had committed to telling her everything.
He hung his head. He’d thought revenge would ease the pain. All it had done was make things worse between him and Ellie.
“I sought you out with the express purpose of finding the letter and accusing your brother of protecting a murderer.” He could not stay his short, hard laugh. “I would get my punishment, and he’d go to jail. The perfect Le Clere revenge. I knew your brother would accept the blame rather than see you punished.” Bile rose in his throat as he heard himself utter the words. He forced himself to continue.
“Everything William did, he did to protect his family. But that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted him to suffer because he took you from me, even if it hurt you, too.”
She laid her hand on his. He stared at her small bandaged fingers resting on his large tanned hand. He had almost been the cause of her death tonight, her and the babe. Only her courage and wit had saved the day.
He put a hand on top of hers, encasing the cold, icy skin. Thank God she didn’t pull away in disgust. Somehow feeling her hand beneath his gave him the courage to go on. He smoothed it gently.
“I even went so far as to involve your sister, pretending I would ruin her, to lure you in. I used you. When you agreed to marry me, I couldn’t believe it.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It was hell on earth. I had my orders. I had to be back in France the next day. Yet I couldn’t resist. It was all I ever wanted. You. A family…” His voice broke. “I never meant to give you a child. Before I met you, I intended never to marry. To never pass on the Le Clere curse. You trusted me and I let you down.” A lump in his throat made further speech impossible.
The truth lay between them, ugly and raw. Now she knew he was just as bad as Le Clere. Worse. She knew he’d planned her beloved twin’s downfall.
She didn’t move or speak, just stared at him with her grey eyes huge in her pale oval face. The face he saw every night in his dreams.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’ll not force you to stay with me. I am not fit for human company. All I ask is a role with our child. That somehow we find a way not to destroy another life with bitterness and hate.”
He could not look at her. He heard her get up. She would leave now. He would not beg her to stay. He’d begged once before and she had sent him away. And rightly so. It was for the best.
The silence between them seemed endless.
The rustle of silks as she knelt beside him whispered of hope. “I don’t believe in curses.”
Ah, Ellie—even now she would try to take his part. He could not let her be fooled. “Chérie, the Le Clere tempers are legendary, it shows up in history books.”
Ellie couldn’t bear the sorrow-edged guilt in his voice, the defeated slump of his shoulders. “Name one person you have hurt in a rage. Yes, you have a temper. But so do I. And like everyone else you control it.”
He lifted his gaze to her face, his eyes wide. “Don’t be blind, Ellie. Look what Le Clere did to your older brother, to my mother. Looked what I planned for your brother.”
“Le Clere is a bad man. But he did nothing in a rage. He planned it. All of it. And he made you, a small boy, believe you were evil.” She shook her head. “You had every right to be angry at William, but you never followed through with your plans. Think back, Garrick. Even when you had me at your mercy, when you discovered I was Lady Moonlight, you were furious. But you did nothing but help me. You were kind to me.”
“That was different, chérie. I had other plans for you.”
The words struck a chord low in her belly and with it came flutters of desire, sparks of heat. She thought she might go up in flames. She fought to keep her voice full of reason, not passion. “People get angry and they do exactly what you do. They control it.”
The crease between his brows deepened. “Not always. I once came very close to murdering a man.” His fists clenched. “I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t been stopped. It was what decided me to join the army.”
The starkness in his expression cut her to the quick. She had the feeling that if she showed the slightest doubt, he would leave, that she would never see him again. She had never feared him. Not for one moment. “Tell me what happened.”
His lips thinned. “I caught him beating a child. I lost all reason and attacked in a blind rage.”
“This man, he was a scrawny fellow, begging for mercy while you attacked him, I suppose.”
“God, no. He was a bruiser. Could have killed the boy with one blow. It took two fellows to hold him down after Harry pulled me off.”
“Fisticuffs, then, between two equals. It sounds as if he deserved a taste of his own medicine. And yet you didn’t kill him.”
“Don’t make light of it, Ellie. What if I hurt you? Or our child? How can I know for certain? You are better off without me.”
Her heart gave a little hop. Was this the reason for his withdrawal? Not his anger at being forced into marriage?
“I know,” she said firmly. She put a hand under his chin, drew his gaze up to meet hers. “I know you. I trust you.”
A smile dawned slowly. A smile full of hope as well as love. A smile that made her stomach tumble and her heart leap. “So, you are willing to take a chance on me?”
“Of course.” She put her heart and her soul into the words. “I love you.”
He leaned forwards and nibbled her neck. “Are you sure?”
The flutters tightened into yearning and arousal.
“Absolutely certain.” She punched his shoulder. “Take me to bed.”
“Ouch!” He leapt up. “No more of this abuse, beloved. And no more sitting in this freezing room. You have a child to consider. My child.” The pride in his voice, and the joy in his face, sent a sweet pang to her heart.
He gazed into her eyes. “I know a place where you and I could be warm together. Will you come with me, my one and only love?” He held out his hand and stood, hesitant, waiting for her reply.
Eleanor’s eyes misted. His love. At last he had called her his love.
“Oh, Garrick. If only I had said yes, instead of sending you away, none of this would have happened.” She blinked and swallowed the sob that threatened to choke her. “I was a coward. Afraid of making another mistake.”
He reached out and touched her cheek, catching, with his finger, one of the wayward tears. “You are the most courageous woman I know.”
So many things had got in the way of their love, her pride as well as his, but even as that regretful thought saddened her, a new enlightenment followed.
He would never be the wicked careless young man she had fallen for that summer so long ago, but it was this man, this battle-weary, hard man who now had the courage to bare his heart whom she loved. He was her own true love and the man she and her child needed, and in this man she was truly blessed.
She opened her arms. “Oh, Garrick, I love you so much, I always have. When I thought you were dead, if it hadn’t been for the child I would have died, too.”
“Thank God for that, then,” he said hoarsely. “Come with me, Ellie, wherever life takes us from this day forth.” He enfolded her in his arms.
“Yes, my love,” she whispered against his lips.
He crushed her to him and kissed her mouth, the beat of his heart a rapid tattoo against her ribs. She melted against him and heard his deep sigh of relief as he picked her up and started for the staircase.
“Welcome home, my wicked Marquess,” she whispered.
ISBN: 978-1-426
8-5532-0
WICKED RAKE, DEFIANT MISTRESS
Copyright © 2009 by Michèle Ann Young
First North American Publication 2010
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com
Wicked Rake, Defiant Mistress Page 24