A Dangerous Man

by Janmarie Anello

  She stared at him through wide, defiant eyes, as if daring him to do it. It would be so easy. In a matter of minutes, he could be free of her forever. He wanted it so badly, had wanted it for so long. She was the plague of his life and he was sick unto death of her and her torments. If it weren't for her trickery, he would never have betrayed Eric. If it weren't for her maliciousness, he would never have lost Leah.

  His skin grew cold, his breathing harsh. As he stared into the eyes of the woman who had made his life a misery for so long, a stunning revelation hit Richard with ruthless brutal ity, as if a wall crumbled, revealing a part of himself he had never seen.

  Rachel was evil, there was no doubt about that, but it was not her fault that he had lost Leah. It was his own fear that had driven Leah away. Fear that she would reject him once she learned his secrets. Fear that he would come to love her.

  Love made a man vulnerable. Love hurt.

  So he had pushed her away, but it hadn't stopped the pain, because it was too late. He already loved her.

  With a growl, he shoved Rachel off the bed before he added murder to the litany of his sins. "Get out of here-and never think to try this again. Or next time, I will kill you."

  She grabbed her dressing gown from the floor.

  As she flew from the room, Richard stumbled to his feet, collapsed onto a chair near the hearth. He buried his face in his hands. Good God, how he loved her. With every breath he drew, with every beat of his heart, he ached for the comfort only Leah could give. She was everything that was good and decent in his life and out of fear, he had sent her away.

  His breathing grew ragged, his chest ached, as his fears lashed out at him, stripping his will, urging him back into the darkness, but he thrust them away. So what if Rachel told the world that Alison was his daughter? He loved Alison more than life itself and longed to claim her for his own. Yes, it would cause a scandal, but they would survive. Life would go on, perhaps even better than before, once the truth came out.

  And he had not betrayed his brother. Never in a conscious word or deed had he betrayed his brother.

  His guilt and shame had nearly destroyed him, but now he could see the truth. Eric had understood that, had loved him until the end. Never had he blamed Richard, nor condemned him in any way. He'd even taken Alison into his heart and claimed her as his own to protect her from the world.

  A vision of Leah's lovely face rose before his eyes and Richard saw the truth with stunning clarity. He could tell her everything. About Eric. About Rachel. Even about Alison, and she would understand. Because she loved him.

  And she loved Alison. She would never condemn the child, nor love her any less because she was Richard's natural daughter.

  Why had it taken him so long to understand? Why had he made their lives so miserable? Wasted so much time?

  He rose from the chair, staggered into his room, rang for his valet. New fears struck out at him, weakened his will, warned him it was too late, but he would not listen.

  Only one thing remained to be done.

  To go to Cornwall and reclaim his wife.

  "Those clouds look sure to rain, Your Grace. Perhaps we should return to the house"

  "In a moment, Marielle," Leah said, watching a falcon fly against the wind, its high-pitched kaw frightening the smaller birds from their nests amongst the cliffs.

  The violent churning of the waves crashing into the rocks below sent a foamy spray high over the ledge. The salt-spiced air tasted tangy in her mouth.

  The rising wind whipped her hair from its pins, and she laughed. She slipped her hands inside her cloak, rubbed her palms over her belly, and smiled as she felt the rolling movement of her babe beneath her skin. She had no clear memories of her journey into Cornwall, only vague impressions of long, tedious days, followed by long, tedious nights. The scenery along the route should have entranced her, but she passed it by without notice, a nondescript blur in her misery.

  At first, she had felt as if she'd died inside while her body continued to live. Left with no choice, she rose every day, donned her dress, combed her hair, and went through the motions of her day. But as one month melted into two, and two dissolved into three, a miracle happened. Her child moved within her.

  At first, it felt as wispy as effervescent bubbles lightly tickling her skin, but with each passing day, the movement grew stronger as she grew bigger, filling her with joy and hope for the future. Now she had grown too big and bulky to hazard the most treacherous heights of the cliffs, but she loved to sit on this lower ledge and watch the sea batter the shore.

  The dark, churning water was so drugging, so intense, it was like staring into Richard's eyes.

  Her skin grew warm despite the brisk November wind as shame swept in along with her memories of their last confrontation.

  She could not comprehend what had possessed her to give in to Rachel's malicious taunting, to issue her husband an ultimatum he was bound to reject. She truly hadn't believed any of Rachel's words. She knew Richard despised his sister-inlaw with a passion she was only now beginning to understand.

  But he was a proud and forceful man. His response had stemmed from wounded pride and male ego. No one was going to tell him how to live his life, including his wife. So she'd found herself banished to the furthermost recesses of Cornwall.

  God, how she missed him, but she had her pride, too.

  Her stubborn will refused to allow her to write to him, to plead for forgiveness, to beg to come home. But stubborn will and stupid pride made for cold and lonely company when she was alone in her bed with only her memories to sustain her.

  Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she had merely latched on to Rachel as a convenient excuse when what she'd really wanted, truly wanted, was his total surrender. His avowal of love.

  Whatever the reason, she knew she had to write Richard soon.

  He had a right to know he was about to become a father, but every time she picked up her pen, fear stayed her hand, convinced her she could wait until tomorrow, and for the tomorrow after that, and so her letter remained unwritten.

  She tried not to think of where he was, of what he was doing, of with whom he was passing his time. Such torturous thoughts only made her pulse race, her heart beat madly, and she needed to remain calm for her babe.

  Rachel's insidious words rose unbidden to Leah's mind.

  Once Richard gets his heir on you, his secrets will be safe ... he will cast you aside ... he will leave you....

  As much as her common sense told Leah that Rachel was a liar who had bent the truth to fit her own designs, her vicious words preyed on Leah's deepest insecurities. While fear of losing Richard tormented Leah day and night, she could not allow her child to be used to satisfy her father's evil schemes.

  With a sigh, she pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter about her neck. Either way, she had to write to Richard soon.

  She had to tell him about the babe.

  Leah pushed herself up from her seat upon the rocks, then linked her arm through her maid's. They followed the winding path back to the house, their pace slowed by damp patches of slippery moss growing atop the rocks.

  The butler met them at the door. "You have a visitor, Your Grace"

  Leah smiled. "A visitor? How mysterious, Harris. Is it the vicar? I thought we weren't meeting until tomorrow."

  "Leah" A voice, low and deep and achingly familiar, coming from the shadows in the crimson drawing room.

  A form materialized in the doorway, slowly took the shape of a man. Broad shoulders encased in burgundy wool. Long legs wrapped in buff pantaloons, cut so exquisitely, every muscle from shin to thigh was outlined in precise detail. He leaned one hand against the jamb. The other, he held stiff by his side.

  "Richard" She was not sure if she said the word, or if she even breathed. She clutched her cloak at the neck.

  The thick, fur-lined wool covered her body from shoulder to toe and provided some protection from the chill shivering through her bones. Her feet felt frozen to the mar
ble floor while her stunned brain registered the fact that he was well and truly here, and by the hard line of his jaw and the rigid slant of his eyes, he was none too pleased about it.

  She had often fantasized about seeing him again. She had imagined herself on her knees, begging his forgiveness for her rash words. She had imagined him on his knees, begging her forgiveness for sending her away. But never had she imagined he would still be angry.

  What if he wanted to put an end to their marriage?

  For the sake of her babe, Leah knew she had to control her wild emotions, but her racing heart sent her blood rushing through her veins. A spasm clenched her belly, wrapped around her spine until she nearly doubled over from the pain, but she drew a deep breath, gathered the skirts of her cloak and dress into her hands and walked up the stairs with as much dignity as she could manage. She knew he followed because she could hear his boot heels on the marble steps.

  She could not let him see how vulnerable she was. She could not let him see how much she still loved him.

  With the wet weather and rutted roads, the journey from London had taken Richard over a sennight. He'd had time aplenty to rehearse what he wanted to say, what he needed to say.

  Now that the moment was here, he could not remember a word.

  She walked to the windows, as if needing to put distance between them. He stood by the fire, hands clutched behind his back to keep from pulling her into his arms.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her hair windswept and curling wildly around her face. Never had she appeared more beautiful, or more vulnerable. He wanted to drag her into his arms and shout out his love, but his tongue felt thick and swollen and wouldn't form the words. Her eyes, which had gleamed as she'd greeted Harris, had turned dull and flat when she realized Richard had arrived. The crushing sensation in the center of his chest grew heavier still.

  "You look ... well," he said, then silently cursed the sudden nervousness that had him stammering like a child.

  Her eyes were wide, her gaze shifting away, then coming back to meet his, as if she were afraid. She clutched her hands to her throat, her cheeks suddenly pale against the dark fur of her cloak. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice soft, choked.

  He took a step toward her, as if pulled by an invisible hand. He shook with his need to touch her, to draw her into his arms, to bury his lips against her hair.

  "I have come here for you," he said, though the words held no hint of the emotions clenching his gut.

  Her chin titled down, her brows drew together, as she tried to discern his meaning. Her eyes brimming with moisture, she opened her mouth, as if to speak, but he held up his hand.

  "Please, do not" He pushed his fingers through his hair, an awkward, stumbling clod out to win his lady's heart, a lady who must surely hate him now. "Please, listen to what I have come here to say."

  He crossed the room, took her hand in his. Her skin felt cold, fragile against his palm. He heard her sharp gasp, watched confusion and fear cloud her expression.

  She pulled her hand from his grasp, laced her fingers at her waist, as if to keep him from reaching for her again, as if his touch caused her pain.

  A fist-sized knot formed at the base of his throat, choking him. He pulled off his cravat, dropped it to the floor.

  "I know I have wronged you," he finally managed. "I know I have hurt you, but I have come here to ask-no, to plead your forgiveness. And to beg you, please, take me back. Flawed that I am, it is all I can offer you"

  He watched her eyes fill with shimmering tears.

  Desperately, he searched for the words. He knew he could hold nothing back, even if it meant baring his soul before her until he stood naked beneath her gaze. The time for halftruths was past. "You are God's gift to this sinner, and even though I do not deserve you, I will never give you up. I have lived in darkness for so long, it took me time to understand. I need you, Leah. I want you beside me every day for the rest of my life. But most of all.. ."

  He raised his hand, palm up. "Leah, I love you"

  Eyes shut, breath locked in his throat, he waited, the silence in the room agonizing in its intensity.

  A heartbeat passed. Then another. Each painful thump sent a trembling through his hand as he waited. He was aware of her wispy, uneven breathing, her shuddering sigh, then the soft, tingling slide of her palm covering his.

  He groaned as he dragged her into his arms. His thoughts scattered, his breath hitched. He dropped to his knees, flung open the folds of her mantle.

  "Oh ... my ... God"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  "Oh, my, God," he said again, because he could think of nothing else to say. His brain had stopped working as he knelt before her and stared at her belly thrusting against her paisley frock, her big, round belly, heavy with his child.

  His breath rushed from his lungs, and he realized he had forgotten to breathe. No wonder she'd seemed so afraid.

  He surged to his feet, nearly lost his balance as his blood rushed from his head. "Why did you not tell me?"

  She pressed her fist to her lips, her hand shaking as badly as his legs.

  The swelling in his throat grew larger until he thought he might choke. "You should have told me ""

  "I wanted to tell you. I tried-" She choked on a sob, but she lifted her chin, faced him with her unwavering gaze, wet with her tears. "I searched the house for you. You were in the conservatory with Rachel. After you left, Rachel told me of my father's perfidy. I couldn't tell you, then. I could not let my babe be used as a weapon between you and my father .. ."

  Her voice dropped so low he had to strain to hear her words. "I could not ask you to let me stay, knowing how you must despise me ""

  I did not bed you because of my bargain with your father," he ground out through his teeth, his guilt and his anguish churning a hole in his stomach. "If you believe nothing else I tell you, please believe this. From the first moment I met you. You were a beacon of light in my black world, and I wanted you"

  Like an opium eater, he could not get enough.

  He would never get enough. He shook from the power she held over him, a power he'd never thought to yield to another, but he knew he was safe in her hands. Still, he had to make her understand. "I have never despised you, never wanted you to leave. Leah, I love you"

  "Then why did you send me away?"

  He brushed his knuckles over her cheeks, stroked her tears with his thumbs. "What did Rachel tell you?"

  "That you love her. That you have always loved her. That you would have wed her if not for my father. And you admitted my father forced you to marry me. I knew it from the start, you know. Oh, not exactly what he had done, but that he had done something. Why else would a man like you ever think to wed someone like me? Please tell me, Richard. I have a right to know. What weapon did my father use?"

  He knew a greater fear, then, than he had ever known in his life. He wanted to lie, but he would have no more secrets between them. Their entire future rested on this moment.

  The moment he had dreaded. The moment of truth.

  "Alison is not my niece," he said. "She is my daughter."

  My daughter. It was the first time he'd spoken the words aloud. Such sweet words that caused him so much pain.

  Leah buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook from suppressing her tears. His chest grew tight, and tighter still, as if steel bands were wrapped round his ribs.

  Then she lowered her hands, lifted her gaze to Richard's, the amber streaks glimmering within her tears. "How can you say that you love me? That my father used that precious little girl to gain his own ends is despicable. It is unspeakable. How you must hate me," she sobbed and spun away.

  The pale light from the gathering storm cast harsh angles over her face, the lines of pain streaking away from her eyes. The disgust trembling in her voice, aimed not at him, but at her father? Dare he hope?

  He walked up behind her, so close he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. When she didn't object, he
slid his arms around her waist, cradled her back against his chest, rested his cheek against her hair, inhaled the sweet familiar scent of roses that had haunted his dreams.

  "I have never blamed you," he said against her ear. "Or held you responsible for your father's misdeeds. I told you once, I wanted to hate you. I admitted it. But I could not. You were a breath of fresh air in my rank life, and I was afraid. Because I knew, right from the start, I knew I could love you. God knows, I tried not to" He smoothed her hair from her brow. "Leah, I love you"

  She turned her head until her cheek rested against his shoulder, until he could not see her features, save for her reflection in the windows. "How can that be true? After what my father did to you, how can that be true?"

  "You don't seem shocked that Alison is my daughter. Did Rachel tell you?"

  She shook her head. "There is a lovely portrait of your brother in the long gallery in this house. The moment I saw it, I knew she could not be his. I do not know why it took me so long. After all, she looks just like you"

  "Do you not want to know how I came to have a child by my brother's wife?"

  "Did you love her very much?"

  He released his grip on her, stalked to the hearth, ground his fist against the marble chimney piece. "No. I thought I did. When we were young. But I have since come to realize that I loved the dream she spun for me. I had planned to make her my wife. Of course, that was before she married my brother."

  The fire was dying. He knelt and tossed a log on the flames, sending a flurry of sparks up the flue. "So I joined the army. After Waterloo, they had a celebration to welcome me home. Feasting, drinking, and the like. I did a lot of drinking. So much so that I found myself naked upon my bed. I don't even know how I got there. The next thing I knew, there was a woman beneath me. I thought I was dreaming." "

  He sucked in a searing breath. "I thought it was a dream. Until she whispered my name. Then I knew. But my nightmare had just begun." He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, but nothing could stop the anguish that wracked his body. Nothing could stop the vision that pounded his brain.