A Taste of Seduction (8 page)

“May? You still don't know?” Augustus sat back in his chair. “Yet she's been in this house, I have heard.”

The staff had been gossiping. Not their fault—it was hard to deny a duke.

“Two years ago, when you came to me with this idea that I marry Lady Claire, it seemed sensible at the time. I thought an arranged match a prudent way to find a wife.” Hadley didn't add that it seemed ideal to have a wife who could never own or break his heart. “And you wanted to help your friend Richard Hampton, the Marquis of Corby, find a match for a sister who had no dowry and was, let's face it, a definite wallflower. It suited us all.”

“It still suits us all,” his brother interjected.

Hadley pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. “I'm having doubts. Evangeline may be innocent—”

“You agreed that if Claire was still unmarried when you reached your thirtieth year, you'd propose. I gave you that time, as promised.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I did agree, true. But hell, Aug, what if she didn't leave me of her own free will? That changes everything.” His hand slammed the table, making the cutlery rattle. “If her story is true, I owe her whatever she desires. I didn't protect her, you see. I couldn't live knowing I'd let her be abducted, kept as a virtual prisoner. Think on it.”

Augustus waited for the crockery to stop rattling before saying, “If you renege, it will put me in a very embarrassing position. Corby is my closest friend.”

“We can find some other way to help Corby and his sister. I don't understand why Richard is so insistent that I marry Claire. Surely he'd prefer her to marry a duke.” In recent months Hadley had more and more come to wonder why the marquis had, in fact, preferred a second son as a husband for his sister, rather than a duke; it did not make sense. At the time he'd made the agreement, however, he had been so heartbroken that he hadn't thought to ask the right questions.

“As I said, he's my friend, and he knows Claire is not duchess material. She would buckle under the role.”

Augustus himself would have bloody buckled under the role of duke. In that, Hadley thought wryly, Augustus and Claire would be well suited.

Hadley wasn't about to be forced into a marriage he no longer wanted. Until he knew the truth regarding Evangeline, he would not wed another. If he had a real chance at happiness, then he wanted it—wanted it so badly he could almost taste it.

“I've done more than enough for this family, and for you, over the years. I've protected you, managed the estates for you, and increased our family's wealth. You could at least support me in this. Give me a chance to see if there is something there with Evangeline. It's not going to end your friendship with Richard if I decide to pull out. I'll even help you find an alternative groom. Claire won't be hurt, as she has no idea what we have planned—or at least I hope not.”

“Claire doesn't know yet. Just as well, as it turns out.” Augustus had the decency to look sheepish. “It's true you have been a very good brother to me. You did protect me from the wrath of Father and others.”

Hadley sighed. “Look, nothing is certain yet. I still have to hear Evangeline's version of events. I need time to think. I have to decide what I want, and I also must do what is right. We still have three weeks until we have to make any decision.”

Augustus gave him a silent look that Hadley could not interpret. He had always found it hard to read his brother; Augustus always seemed as if he held secrets. And it had always annoyed Hadley that Augustus could shield his thoughts so successfully even though he could not protect himself physically.

Before Augustus could respond, Arend sauntered in.

“Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't wait to be announced, as I didn't know His Grace was in town.”

Augustus waved away the unintentional slight. “No apology necessary. It's a pleasure to see you, Arend.” He stood up. “I was just leaving. Hadley, we will talk later, yes?”

Hadley merely nodded.

Augustus smiled at the two men before leaving the room.

“What did His Grace want?” Arend asked as he helped himself to a plate of food.

“Who says he wanted anything?”

“He never comes to town unless he has to.”

That was true. Augustus had said he'd been staying with a friend; had he really? Or did Augustus not wish him to know he'd rushed up to town? And why was it so important that he marry Claire? Surely the Marquis of Corby could find another suitor. In the
ton
money talked, and Augustus had plenty to help his friend. Why did it have to be Hadley?

“He wanted to talk with me about Claire.”

Arend laughed. “I don't understand why Augustus is so set on the match. You could do so much better than a mousy wallflower.”

Arend's thoughts mirrored his own. Annoyance dug under his skin. Why
was
Augustus so set on the match?

With a sigh, Hadley changed the subject. “Aren't you here to discuss a plan to unmask Victoria?”

Arend gave a sly smile. “Too little sleep, I see. Or is it Lady Evangeline that's turned you into a grump this morning?”

“I have been up all night. But it's more that I'm sick of people poking their noses into my business.”

“Evangeline is a beautiful problem to have, though.”

“And a useful one. She thinks her husband may have included information on Victoria in his journals. Apparently he wasn't too happy at her unexpected marriage to his friend Lord Northumberland. He began digging into her background.”

“How did the viscount die?”

Hadley's head snapped up like a whip. “He was killed by highwaymen—supposedly.”

Excitement lit Arend's eyes. “Eat up. We need to visit Lady Evangeline immediately so that can we see the journals.”

“One small problem: she's not very happy with me and won't let me view them. She'll let us know if she finds anything.”

“Damn it. That's awkward.” Arend gestured with his fork. “Well, you'll just have to grovel and get back in her good graces.”

“You can be such a prick at times.”

Arend nodded as he chewed. He swallowed before saying, “I will have to try something different, then, while you grow some bottle. I have an idea on how to expose Victoria.”

“One day I hope a woman does a job on you. Then we shall see who has bottle and who has not.” When Arend said nothing more, he added, “Care to share this plan?”

Arend began outlining what they could do.

Her shoulder ached, and because Hadley had pulled her to the ground, every limb felt as if a tree had fallen on it. Last night she'd been in more pain than she would admit, especially to Hadley. The guilt etched upon his face was more than she could bear. He blamed himself, yet her injury had been out of his control.

She gave a wan smile. He had tried to protect her. That should mean something. But, as she recalled, Hadley protected everyone.

Why, then, had he not protected her five years ago? Her heart refused to believe it was because he didn't care. She could see how much he cared when she was shot. The look on his face…

Her stomach clenched tight, facing the knowledge that if she had not accompanied him home, Hadley would never have bent down at the moment the shot was fired. He'd be dead. Accompanying him home had saved his life.

Her head swam, and she lay back upon her pillow.

Someone wanted to kill him.

Rachel, her lady's maid, had fussed over her when they'd carried her into her room in the early hours of the morning, but she'd managed to sleep for about four hours before Sealey could no longer be kept away.

He'd barged into her room before she could hide the bandages. He'd been frightened by her injury. Losing Dougal had been his introduction to death, and given his young age, the little boy was petrified that he'd lose her too.

She stroked the silky curls on her little boy's head as he slept beside her. She'd finally managed to get him to cuddle down and doze, but even though she was still tired and sore, sleep eluded her.

Her first meeting with Hadley had not gone as she'd expected—or, indeed, hoped. It seemed that five years apart had changed him more than it had changed her. Given his story about receiving a letter purportedly from her, she could understand why.

It wasn't the pain of her gunshot wound that filled her eyes with tears. It was the fact he had believed a piece of paper over everything they'd shared and done. She'd given him her heart, her body, and her soul, but he'd simply taken the words on a piece of paper and forgotten
her
. Forgotten who she was.

Plus, when she'd told him it was a forgery, he'd not believed her. If he'd truly known her, understood her, loved her, he should have believed her.

She wasn't naive enough to think that their relationship could be as it was before. Both of them had been changed by what life had thrown at them, but to call her character into question…

When she'd set eyes on him yesterday she knew immediately that though she was mad as hell at him, she still loved him. The heart doesn't always listen to the head.

As their eyes met she'd hoped he would still love her.

His cold, rage-filled stare had been like a dagger to her chest. It had looked more like he hated her. Now she understood why. He blamed her for breaking his heart, and that caused her more pain than any bullet.

Prickles of anger surfaced to chase away the sorrow. Her dead husband was still winning. Dougal had forced her to marry him, lie with him, and live with him. He'd stolen her life of happiness with Hadley, and then through a forged letter ensured that when she became a widow happiness would still be denied her.

“Does it hurt?”

She looked at her son's anxious eyes and smiled away her tears. “A little.”

He rose up and kissed her cheek. “All better.”

She gave a laugh. She always kissed him when he had a hurt. “Yes, all better.”

Every time she looked at Sealey her heart burst with pride, joy, and love. He made everything she'd endured worthwhile.

“Nanny said you were taking me to the park today. I suppose that's off now.” His face lost its smile. “How many sleeps will you be indisposed for?”

“I'm not sure. How about we ask Lady Isobel if she'll take you and Nanny instead?”

He jumped out of her arms and started bouncing on the bed. “Really? When can we ask her?”

“If you're a good boy and go with Nanny so Mummy can rest, I'll send a missive to Lady Isobel and see if she'll take you tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Sealey slid down off the bed and started trotting toward the door to her room. Before he could reach for the door latch, the door swung open and Lady Marisa, Lady Beatrice, and Lady Isobel swarmed in.

Marisa was in the lead, and she stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes took in Sealey.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, and turned her startled eyes toward Evangeline.

Beatrice bumped into her and peered around Marisa, only to gasp when she looked at the boy standing wide-eyed in the middle of Evangeline's room. The only one not to show surprise was Isobel.

The silence was broken when Sealey squealed, “Lady Isobel,” and raced into her outstretched arms.

Isobel had befriended Evangeline after Dougal's death while she was enduring twelve months of mourning for a man she hated. Isobel's father had been Dougal's close friend and confidant, and when Isobel came to visit for the funeral, Isobel fell in love with Evangeline's little boy. When Isobel met Hadley, after the carriage rescue, she'd understood the truth.

“Sealey! Why, I think you've grown in the week since I last saw you. Look how tall you are.”

Sealey beamed up at Isobel.

“Mother says you might take me to Richmond Park to see the deer tomorrow since she is unwell.”

“Sealey Hadley Masters, where are your manners? Say hello to the ladies first before you start requesting favors.”

He turned on his heel to look back at Marisa and Beatrice, who were still staring at him as if he had two heads.

Sealey gave a small bow. “Good morning, ladies.”

The ladies curtsied back, with Marisa saying, “It's a pleasure to meet you, young man. I'd be excited about a trip to see the deer too. They are beautiful, but look out for the stags—they can be fierce.”

His eyes widened further. “They are not scary, though?”

Marisa chuckled. “A little. You'll have to hold tightly to Isobel's hand so she won't be too frightened.”

His little chest puffed out. “I'll protect you,” he said to Isobel, and Evangeline had never been so proud of her son.

Just then the nanny arrived to take him for a walk before lunch in the small park round the corner. Evangeline knew she couldn't risk taking the boy further afield just yet. Not until she'd spoken to Hadley.

“Wendy, when you go for your walk today, please ensure you take the extra men with you.” She looked pointedly at Sealey and did not say anything more. Wendy merely nodded and escorted the boy from the room.

The second the door closed, three sets of eyes found hers, and the astonishment on two of the ladies' faces was priceless.

“I'm sorry that we barged in unannounced, but the men couldn't tell us how badly injured you were. We were out of our minds with worry.”

Evangeline merely shook her head at Beatrice and sighed. As they stood staring accusingly, she added, “I suspect my secret is out. I'm hoping you ladies can keep my confidences.”

Marisa took her gloves off as she bent to kiss Evangeline's cheek. “I take it you haven't told Hadley that Sealey is his son.”

Evangeline shook her head. “I'd planned to do so last night, just after he fell into my arms and professed that he still loved me.” She added sarcastically, “That didn't happen.”

Beatrice was at the door organizing refreshments with Evangeline's maid, and it was Isobel who sat at the end of her bed and said, “I knew the minute I met Hadley—the day the men rescued Marisa and me—that Sealey was Lord Fullerton's son. But I promised Evangeline I would not say a thing.”

“You do realize that Hadley will know as soon as he sees the boy,” Beatrice said as she took the chair by the window. “In fact, if any of the men see the boy, your secret is out.”

“I want time to think before I do anything. Dougal claimed the boy as his own. Society understands Sealey is the next Viscount Stuart.”

“You can't expect Hadley to have sat waiting for you. He must have been shocked to hear your story. If I know him, he'll blame himself for not saving you.”

“Did he beg your forgiveness? I'm sure his feelings for you are as strong as ever.”

Hadley's feelings were strong, all right. He detested her.

“Why have you never told him?” Marisa asked quietly. “A person deserves to know they have a child.”

Beatrice reached for Marisa's hand, and Evangeline understood the reason for Marisa's accusation. She knew Marisa could not have children, the result of an injury received when the villainess who had shot at Hadley last night kidnapped Marisa and Isobel a month ago. She thought of what her life would be without Sealey and completely understood the devastation of Marisa's loss. She therefore forgave Marisa.

“I wrote many, many letters to Hadley from the moment I found myself married to Dougal. I hoped at least one might get through to him. I specifically wrote to him when Sealey was born, but the maid I thought was my friend and confidante was working for Dougal. I now know Hadley never received my letters.”

Evangeline hadn't understood the depth of her maid's betrayal until she met with Hadley last night. It was obvious that none of the letters she'd written to Hadley during the first eighteen months of her marriage had been sent to him.

Now she understood why he'd never come for her.

She'd never expected to receive a letter back, as Dougal guarded her well. Still, she had hoped Hadley would come for her, scandal or not. It had never occurred to her that he hadn't received her pleas. Instead, she thought he'd decided that what was done was done—now that she was married, he could not change anything without destroying her reputation.

Through all the months of her pregnancy when he'd not come for her, she'd almost despaired. Only Sealey's birth kept her from going insane.

The moment she'd held her son in her arms, the world changed. The dream of Hadley came second to the life of her son.

Dougal knew the boy was not his. He learned she hadn't been a virgin on her wedding night, and she'd paid dearly for that. When her son was born seven months after her abduction, he treated the boy with little more than restrained contempt, something Sealey noticed as he got older. As Sealey grew she could not deny he was the image of Hadley. She thought she'd have to protect Sealey from Dougal, but to her amazement she didn't have to. Dougal barely tolerated Sealey, but for some reason he was only too eager to claim the boy as his own. His previous wife had died with no issue, and so she assumed Dougal was worried the fault might lie with him. Since she'd never fallen pregnant a second time, it was likely he was right.

So her son was now the next Viscount Stuart. She intended to see that he was a far better man than the previous viscount.

“Are you saying he never got your letters?” Marisa's tone was conciliatory.

She swallowed back the sorrow of the past. “He received only one letter, a letter that was supposedly written by me, telling him I was eloping with Viscount Stuart of my own free will.”

Stunned silence greeted her announcement.

“No wonder his reception was so frosty.”

She wanted to cry at Isobel's words. “ ‘Frosty' doesn't begin to describe his reaction. ‘Downright hatred' would come close.”

“A man would hate only if he'd deeply loved. Therefore, he obviously forgave you once you explained…” At Evangeline's raised eyebrow Beatrice uttered, “Oh, dear.”

“But you left together,” Marisa added.

“I told him I hadn't written any letter to that effect. He swore I had, that he'd compared the handwriting to our previous correspondence. So I asked to see the letter. We had just arrived at his family's townhouse when someone decided to shoot him. If I hadn't dropped my muff…”

“He'd be dead.” Isobel shuddered. “You saved his life.”

The women looked at one another. “None of us are safe.” Marisa's hands were clenched in her lap. “I want to catch her so badly.”

Beatrice smiled at Evangeline. “At least you'll have Hadley's attention and devotion. You were shot because of him, and if I know him at all, he'll be feeling pretty guilty. Once you explain about Sealey, he'll step up and do the right thing.”

Evangeline flopped back onto her pillows. “I don't want him to do the right thing. I've just come out of a loveless marriage, and I'm not about to enter another.” She wasn't about to marry a man who didn't know her or want her.

“If he finds out about Sealey, you'll have no choice. He'll insist.”

Evangeline looked at Beatrice as if she'd like to slap her. “He can insist all he likes, but Dougal claimed the boy. Sealey is now Viscount Stuart. In the eyes of the law Hadley has no rights.”

“He should be allowed to know his son, just as Sealey should know his real father.” Marisa stood and moved to stare out the window, lost in private thoughts.

“I agree. However, I'd like the chance to tell him in my own time. He has much on his mind at the moment, what with a madwoman out to kill him. Plus, if it became known he was Sealey's father, wouldn't that put my son in even greater danger?” She felt the breath seize in her chest. “I will tell him the truth about his son when it suits me, and then of course he can see Sealey as much as he wishes, but I warn you now”—she looked at Marisa—“I will never be forced into another marriage. That would destroy me.”

Marisa swung round from the window to face her. “What if he had died last night? He would never have known he even had a son.” She gave a sad smile. “Plus, he is about to announce his engagement to Lady Claire Hampton. I'm not supposed to know, but I overhead Arend and Maitland discussing it. She doesn't even know yet. His Grace organized the match with her brother.” She appealed to all of them. “You see, don't you? He should know the truth in case he is still considering Lady Claire. Once their engagement is announced he would never renege, even if he longed to. He's too honorable and he'll be left unable to acknowledge Sealey.”