by Erica Ridley
He had taken her virginity and walked away without a backward glance. Faith hadn’t been important enough to merit gentlemanly behavior. To have rights. To have feelings. Her chin lifted.
She had made the best decision she could at the time. Christina had spent ten blissful years without the stigma of being a bastard. Of being unwanted. Of not being good enough for her own father. That was the sort of innocence that every child deserved.
Faith would not apologize to a man who had never intended to do the honorable thing by her in the first place.
But nor could she risk him making good on his threats.
“Yes. You impregnated me before you decided to walk away.” She rolled back her shoulders and tried to breathe. “But I did not give the baby up.”
Hawkridge’s gaze flew to hers in shock. “Here? In this house?”
“This is not the best moment to visit the nursery,” she said firmly. “Once you’ve calmed down and we’ve had a chance to talk, I can decide if it’s truly in Chris’s best interest to meet—”
“Chris?” Hawkridge repeated, his eyes flashing with unsuppressed rage. “If you hid an heir from me, woman, so help me God—”
“Stop it!” Her limbs shook with fear. “Leave Christina alone. You are not fit company to—”
“Nor will I be.” Hawkridge curled his lip in disgust. “If you won’t bring her to me, I shall find her myself.”
Before Faith could stop him, he raced past the maid and charged out of the corridor toward the stairs.
She lifted up her hems and chased close behind.
Chapter 16
“Nursery,” Hawk barked at the first maid he found after sprinting up the staircase. “Which way?”
The girl pointed a finger, more likely out of surprise than any desire to do a stranger’s bidding.
Faith was right on his heels behind him. Hawk ignored her.
He took off down the corridor toward the chamber the maid had indicated. The door was ajar, and he managed to come to a skidding halt before sheer velocity tumbled him inside.
His blood pulsed so loud in his ears that he could not think over the din.
He had a child.
She was sitting in the center of a plush rug that cost more than his entailed estate had earned all year. Her back was to him, but he recognized her long golden-brown curls.
The girl from the school. The one whose fine clothing far outclassed the others. Now it made sense. She was not like the others. This was Faith’s child. His child. And Faith had kept her from him.
Hawk whirled to face her. “How could you?”
She held up a finger to her lips and backed away from the open door.
He stalked forward, unable to believe Faith’s treachery.
All this time he had believed that he was the one who needed to atone for the past. Now that he knew the truth, she would never be able to make the past up to him. She was a liar. A thief. She kept his sole child and hadn’t seen fit to inform him.
His entire body shook with rage and hurt and powerlessness to change the past. Blast and damn. Now that he did know, what was he meant to do about it?
He spun away from Faith without granting her so much as a word, collected himself as best he could, and stepped into the nursery.
The girl glanced up at him suspiciously from the corner of her eye.
Christina.
His daughter.
“Who are you?” she asked, clutching her dolls to her chest.
A very good question. If only Hawk knew the right answer.
He was her father. He was Lord Hawkridge. He was the man who was going to throttle her mother the second he stepped outside this nursery.
None of which seems like the right response.
“An… acquaintance of your mother’s,” he hedged.
He did not want to begin their relationship with lies, but she clearly did not trust him and he had no wish to frighten her.
“You knew my mother?” Christina relaxed the stranglehold on her dolls. “What was she like?”
Hawk blinked. Was this a trick question? He would have absolutely nothing complimentary to say about Faith if he were forced to describe her right now.
“Don’t you live together?” he stammered.
Christina shook her head. “I’m an orphan. I live with Aunt Faith and my grandparents.”
Understanding washed over Hawk.
Faith hadn’t just kept their daughter from him—she’d also kept her from herself. The only explanation for pretending her daughter was her niece was to shelter from the cruel realities of being a bastard.
That would be a noble gesture. Selfless, even. If it hadn’t been so bloody unnecessary. No matter what his mother and advisors forbade, Hawk would have married Faith in a heartbeat if he’d had any inkling she was with child.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” he said tightly and hurried out of the nursery before his anger could overtake him.
Faith was no longer alone in the corridor. Her parents flanked her like soldiers guarding a queen.
Hawk did not bother to hide his disgust. Faith was not his queen. She did not rule over him. And she would not rule over their child alone.
“You are unbelievable,” he snarled. “Duplicitous and heartless.”
Mrs. Digby stepped forward with fire in her eyes. “Duplicitous and heartless like the night she stole your virginity, ruined your chances at a good match, and never bothered to pay so much as a simple call, despite having promised you marriage?”
Hawk swallowed with guilt. Of course her parents hated him. They both knew exactly who and what he was. “I didn’t know—”
“It shouldn’t have mattered,” Mr. Digby interrupted coldly.
“You think your title is your most redeeming quality,” Mrs. Digby put in. “When in fact it is your only redeeming quality. Faith does not need you and neither does Christina. You are worthless even to your own estate. Don’t think you deserve to come sniffing about her dowry now.”
Faith’s dowry. Hawk had completely forgotten. He dropped his chin to his chest.
When they had accidentally run into each other that first night at the school for girls, he had no reason to believe she was any better off than she had been when they were younger.
He’d learned otherwise, of course. Even if Simon hadn’t accidentally let slip the precise amount of her dowry, the excessive opulence of every item in this townhouse would have more than sufficed as a clue.
Hawk had believed that before they could begin to hope for a future together, he would first have to win back her love. Eat crow. Atone for the unforgivable actions of that fateful night.
But she was the one who had to atone. Not for her actions that night, but for her failure to speak every day since.
And they thought he was here to what… place a ring on her finger and make her his bride? The thought was laughable. Any dream he’d once had of marrying her had vanished. Along with his dreams of a happy family.
A dowry like Faith’s would enable him to open his port on schedule, true. But it was also true that the thought of marrying her now filled his stomach with bile. He could no longer trust her.
It was more than a lie. She had hidden a child from him. Hadn’t bothered to mention the slight detail even when all three of them had been under the same roof.
They might not have seen each other for ten years, but there had been more than ample opportunity to come clean over the past few months. His blood raced. This wasn’t love in his heart. She had turned it into rage.
“You cannot put all the blame on Faith,” Mrs. Digby said with a sneer.
“Can I not?” He gaped at her in disbelief. “The child doesn’t even know her father.”
“It’s for the best,” Faith said. Her tone was final, as if he had no say at all. “Even you must see that.”
“I see plenty,” he growled. “I see everything you’ve taken from me. I’ve lost the opportunity to know my child since her birth. I cannot give her
lost time. I can’t even give her my name.”
“You didn’t want to,” she reminded him hotly. “At least, you didn’t want to give it to me.”
“I still don’t,” he said, his voice ice.
He had known Faith could no longer be the young girl he recalled from his youth, but he had never suspected it would come to this. That his relationship with her would become not his dream, but his greatest nightmare.
Through no knowledge of his own, he had abandoned a child.
When Christina had been born, he had been off visiting entailed properties. While she had been crying to be held, he had been at society balls hunting wealthy dance partners. He had missed her first laugh, her first steps, her first words. She had never called him Papa.
She never even knew she had one.
How could he fix this? He curled his shaking fingers into fists and pressed them against his sides. There was no way to undo the damage. No way to return what he had lost. No way to give Christina what she had been denied. A childhood knowing her father loved her, wanted her, cherished her.
Instead, all either of them had was emptiness where there should have been joy.
And Faith… She was the blade that twisted again and again. Instead of confessing the truth, she’d kept the secret. Decided his future for him. Denied their daughter a father, and him his child. She had played God, but delivered him to Hell.
Throat tight, Hawk stalked past her and marched down the stairs to the front door.
His temples pounded. He could not be in this house a second more. Its gaudy opulence mocked him. Its terrible secrets laid bare his heart. He could do nothing more tonight. He could not risk frightening Christina.
If he had known his daughter since birth, he wouldn’t have to pray for the possibility that she might warm up to him someday.
But he had not been given the choice.
“Where are you going?” As before, Faith was right on his heels.
“Home to think.” He shot her a warning glance. “You do not wish to have a conversation with me right now. You will not like anything I have to say.”
She bit her lip. “It really is for the best.”
Anger flared within him. Who was she to decide for him? Hawk would not be robbed of his child.
He enunciated each word so there could be no mistake.. “You cannot keep her.”
“You cannot take her,” she countered in alarm.
Like hell he couldn’t. His head swam under the weight of all those lost years. Christina was his daughter.
He leaned forward and dropped his voice dangerously. “She is my child.”
“And mine.” Faith took a step backwards. “You can’t have her.”
His heart pounded in pain and fury. “If you dare to keep her from me a single moment more, I will haul you in front of the courts without a second thought.”
“And prove what?” Her chin lifted. “That you’re a destitute fortune-hunter who suddenly discovered me in possession of a fortune? It will be a brilliant scandal and you still won’t get Christina.”
“Of course I will.” He stared down his nose at her as condescendingly as he could. “I don’t need proof. I have a title. And soon, I will have custody of my child.”
“A title.” Her eyes flashed. “I have my dignity, which is more than you can claim.”
He shook his head in disgust. “There is no dignity in lying to a child’s father for her entire life.”
“What lie?” Her hands curled into fists at her hips. “Other than a carelessly scribbled missive the same morning I was expecting a wedding proposal, I never heard your voice or saw your face for an entire decade until Simon invited you to supper. I never had a chance to lie. You were completely unconcerned with how or whether I was getting on with my life.”
It had not been that simple.
His hands shook with anger. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“And you don’t know me at all if you think I’ll let you turn Chris’s life upside-down. She’s happy, Hawkridge.” Faith shoved his chest as if to push him out the door. “Do you even understand that word? Happy. She likes herself and her life. How would it help to rip that away from her? What kind of man would do such a heartless thing? What kind of father?”
Of course he wanted Christina to be happy. But right now, he didn’t give two figs about pleasing her mother. “You cannot keep her from me.”
“You cannot swoop in and take her.” Faith’s eyes filled with tears.
He smiled icily. “We’ll just have to see.”
Chapter 17
At noon the following morning Hawk found himself seated alone at an otherwise empty table, in an otherwise empty dining room, in a completely silent house.
This, in itself, was not new.
His mother would not wake for at least another hour. They were down to only two servants. A maid of all work and a footman who was also their butler and their driver.
Insipid tendrils of steam rose from the thin soup before him, but Hawk barely succeeded in choking down the first bite. Everything tasted like sawdust. The soup, the bread, the air.
What might his Parliamentary sessions in London have been like if there had been a child in the house?
He stared at the bowl of soup. He would never know what it would’ve been like. There was no sense trying to imagine the sound of little feet pounding too quickly down the stairs, a peal of laughter or the cry of Papa, come play with me.
It hadn’t happened. And now it wouldn’t.
Unless he did something about it.
Hawk couldn’t get back the last ten years, but he could take control of the next ten. He just needed to come up with a plan capable of reuniting him with his daughter without causing her undue harm.
He idly stirred the stew before him then let go of his spoon with an anguished groan. Through no intention of his own, he was exactly like his father.
Making love to a woman he did not intend to marry, getting her with child, not raising his offspring as his own. The only point in Hawk’s favor was that he hadn’t known about the child’s existence. But Faith was right. He had perpetrated the rest. He was no more righteous than his father had been.
Just because Hawk accepted his share of the guilt in the blame did not mean there was no fault to find Faith’s actions. Or lack thereof.
She should have told him. Even if she believed he would not have married her, even if she was absolutely right, she still should have told him. But because she had not, he was a stranger to Christina and she to him.
Did that matter? Did not knowing until now make her any less his daughter? Any less his responsibility?
He pushed away his untouched bowl of soup and buried his face in his hands.
It didn’t feel like there was enough room in his body for this much emotion. Anger. Hurt. Guilt. Would he help anything at all by telling her he was her father? But now that he knew he had a daughter, how could he possibly just walk away?
There were so few choices. If only there was some way to legally make Christina his child! If there were a special license to purchase, a certificate to sign, a Justice of the Peace to bribe, anything at all that could make Christina his legal daughter, Hawk would do it in a heartbeat.
But there were no such paths. No way to add an child to one’s family. No way to give Christina the protection of his name.
The only available options were guardianship and fostering. Hawk rubbed his face. Because he had failed to marry Faith back when he’d ruined her, Christina could never become his legal daughter. The best he could do was to make her his ward.
And then what? If he welcomed Christina into his home and never mentioned he was her father, would his guardianship be suspicious enough to do the same damage?
He slammed his fist onto the table with enough force to slosh broth from his bowl of stew.
The pregnancy had not been Faith’s fault, but the current predicament absolutely was. There was suddenly a child he never knew
about. The woman he loved, the woman he thought he knew, had lied to him. Hid the one aspect of his life he’d always believed he could do right.
It was unforgivable.
He no longer even wanted Faith in his life, and now he would be forced to do so to have a relationship with his daughter. He had been robbed of choice, then and now.
Nor was she the only one who had hid the truth.
Faith was not shuttered away in the country. Her reputation had not been ruined. How could an unconnected girl like Faith have managed to keep a secret as large as an unplanned pregnancy? Not without help. That much was certain.
Hawk pushed up from the table. He stalked out the door to head straight to his carriage.
He had a reasonably fair idea just who might’ve conspired to keep such a monumental secret. Faith’s bosom friend Dahlia was the younger sister of London’s premier secret-keeper and problem solver: Heath Grenville.
Who, until this moment, Hawk had counted as a friend.
When he reached the Grenville’s front door, Hawk was ready to break it down by force necessary.
It was not.
The familiar butler showed him into the front parlor as if today were like any other day and Hawk’s world wasn’t falling apart at the seams.
The parlor contained three out of four Grenville siblings, hunched over a low table and playing some sort of rowdy card game involving flying playing cards and a shameless disregard of proper language.
Any other day, Hawk would’ve taken the empty spot between Dahlia and Bryony and launched himself into the fray as if he were part of the family. But it wasn’t any other day. It was today, and if his suspicions were correct, Heath Grenville might not live to see tomorrow.
“You knew,” Hawk accused him in a low, dangerous voice.
Grenville lay down his playing cards and turned to face him. To his credit, he neither denied the charge nor disingenuously inquired to what Hawk referred.
“You knew,” he repeated in disbelief. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”
“Somebody tell me,” Bryony said with wide eyes. “I want to be indignant, too.”