An Heir of Deception (25 page)

“Alex, I loved you too much to ask that of you.” Emotion choked her voice. Another tear fell but this one she did not touch, allowing it to roll down and down until it clung to the edge of her chin. She turned her head and it lost its tenuous hold, sending it dashing onto the carpeted floor to disappear without a trace, as if it never existed. It was a pity feelings didn’t behave in a similar manner. Instead they had a habit of forever making their presence known by staining everything they touched.

“You would not have had to ask.” He would have given his life for her.

Charlotte looked away, briefly closing her eyes. After drawing a breath, she turned back to him. “I thought you’d understand, especially given your experience with your father. Can you even imagine what it would have been like for me and Katie? Despite everything James has done to protect us, everyone knows we are his father’s by-blows. Can you imagine if they learned this too? How they would treat us? How it would affect you? You would have been tainted by association and our children would have been—” she choked back a sob, “they would have been shunned. That is what I saw in the future if I had married you.

Alex was torn. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and wipe away her tears and soothe her hurt. That and kiss her senseless—there was always that. But when he looked down at the entirety of all that had been stolen from him, he wanted to rail at her for not coming to him then. How could she think he’d not have stood by her and not once regretted the decision no matter the repercussions?

But the point was moot. She’d made her decision years ago. She’d chosen her path and that didn’t change the present.

“Well it is done. You did what you did and nothing and no one can change that. We must just go forward.” In the distance, he heard the tick of the clock he kept on his fireplace mantel, a stark reminder that the future was but a second away. So forward they went.

More tears fell, a steady stream of them, flowing silently. He hated to see her cry. Even her tears of joy had played havoc with his emotions. But how he’d loved kissing them away.

Alex walked to his bed and retrieved a monogrammed handkerchief from his coat pocket. He strode back and handed it to her. She took it and proceeded to dry her eyes. When she was finished, she didn’t hand it back to him nor did he ask for it. Instead, she clutched it tightly as if holding on to something of infinite value.

“How shall we go forward?” she asked.

Was that hope he’d heard in her voice? “My knowing the truth doesn’t change my feelings for you.” Whatever they were. Only she had the power to confuse him like this. “No, that’s not true. You have told me things I very much needed to hear and it has taken away much of the rage. But that doesn’t change or bridge the years we’ve been apart. I meant it when I said whatever I felt for you is gone.” Which wasn’t an out-and-out lie.

Her blue eyes darkened with pain and she grew so still it was as if she was frozen in time. She wore defeat about her like a burden carried twenty years on an unpaved road stretching as far as the eye could see, and longer.

Slowly, she angled her head and stared at him. She looked as if she was reading something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.

“You can’t tell me there’s no hope of getting back what we once had. You still want me even though I know you do not want to.”

“I want you in my bed but that has nothing to do with love.” He spoke in an even voice, the opposite of how he felt. Because there was a bed not but two dozen feet from where they sat in the seductive night darkness. It would be all too easy to succumb and feed the hunger that had been building for years.

“And I’d love nothing more than to be in your bed.” Her voice held the allure of a siren’s song.

Alex was immediately as hard as a bobbie stick. He retreated until his back met the wall and prayed she’d keep her distance. His physical weakness for her was something he’d have to deal with and would take a little time to get a firm handle on. In the meanwhile, all future encounters could not take place within fifty feet of a bed.

“I believe it’s time to say good night. Good night, Lady Avondale.”

“I want more than that from our marriage.” Her eyes were luminous as she toyed with the sash of her dressing robe.

The way she slid the sash between her slender fingers was more fidgety than sensuous but he couldn’t have found it more provocative.

The bobbie stick in his trousers suddenly felt like a cricket bat. Alex cleared his throat and forced his gaze from her. He stared blindly at the spot on the wall beyond her slender shoulder where a painting of a hunting scene hung.

Once he felt composed enough to speak, he returned his attention to her. “Well life has shown me sometimes we cannot get what we want. I wanted to be the one you turned to in times of crisis. I wanted to hold my son on the day of his birth. I wanted to hear his first words and watch as he took his first steps. I wanted the last five years with you.”

The sash now dangled from her fingertip. He watched her lips quiver. The top was deep pink and bow shaped, the bottom more plush and wholly distracting. He refused to permit his gaze to drift any lower than her sweetly rounded chin. The shape of her breasts and hips were already burned like a brand in his mind.

“Alex—”

“I am a man who prides himself on learning from my mistakes, which means never making the same one twice. I gave you my heart but once and I won’t give it again.” This is what he’d been telling himself every hour since her return.

Hurt clouded her eyes and he held his breath, wondering just how strong he’d have to be this evening. God, don’t let her weep again, he could only tolerate so much. And his damn erection showed no signs of flagging.

“I
am
sorry, Alex. So very sorry. You’ll never know how much. But I promise I shall take better care of it in the future should you ever leave it to my safekeeping again,” she said softly.

And then silent as a shadow, she turned and exited the room, leaving him shaken with a raging erection, ensuring he would not sleep at all that night.

Chapter Fourteen

Upon their arrival at Rutherford Manor next morning, Charlotte’s thoughts were still on what had occurred between her and Alex last evening.

He finally knew the truth and she was truly glad of it. But his reaction had her doubting herself as she’d done many times in the past. Had she done the right thing? She’d truly thought so at the time. The crippling blow had come when he’d told her he’d have given up his title, his home—everything—for her.

When she’d first been introduced to him, he’d been more godlike than mortal; his masculine beauty only surpassed by his infinite charm. She’d immediately been drunk with a passion for him that hadn’t faded a stitch over time.

When he’d proposed, he’d told her how much he loved her and she’d believed him. Now she wondered if she actually had at that. She knew she’d desperately
wanted
to believe him, counting herself as the luckiest woman on earth.

In her room at night, she’d pinch herself under the covers and pray to God that if she was dreaming, she’d never wake up. And now to discover, a man like
that
had felt all of
that
for her propelled her to dizzying heights of euphoria and then sent her plummeting to the earth like a falling star. For last night he’d vowed no chance existed for them, his heart securely locked away and out of reach from her.

She glanced across the carriage at him. He’d barely said two words to her since they’d departed London, giving Nicholas his exclusive attention then falling silent once their son had drifted off.

In minutes, two footmen were fetching their trunks into the house as they stood beside the carriage, Nicholas wide awake and happy to be back, but loath to be separated from his father.

“Why can’t you stay here with us?” Nicholas turned piteous blue eyes up at him as he tugged on his hand.

Alex smiled and affectionately tousled his hair. “I must return home and have the house readied for you to move in tomorrow.”

The quick look he shot her told her it had also been meant as a reminder to her. As if there was any possibility she might have forgotten. No, now it was something she anticipated like a child counting the days on a calendar as Christmas approached. He wanted her and that was something. Good, solid marriages had been founded on less. And given their unique situation, it might be the
only
place to start.

“May my cousins come and visit?” Nicholas asked, digesting the news without blinking an eye. Charlotte hadn’t known how much he craved the company of other children until she’d seen him with her nieces and nephew. Alex had said there’d be no more children but in time she hoped he’d change his mind. Nicholas could do with at least one sibling and she’d certainly love another child.

“They can visit as often as you wish.”

Charlotte smiled. It appeared he’d be the ever indulgent father. How quickly he’d learn the ways of boundaries when it came to their son.

“And I can come here to play too?”

“Of course,” Alex said, smiling down at him.

His father’s assurances brought a brilliant smile to Nicholas’s face.

Alex’s expression became unreadable when he lifted his head and regarded her. “I shall expect you by midday.”

“Jillian will be coming with us.”

He gave a curt nod.

“Very well, then we shall see you tomorrow.”

Nicholas had been watching their exchange, his head turning with each volley. “Papa, are you upset with Mama?” he asked, his brow knit with worry.

“But of course not.” Alex’s denial came smoothly, his expression instantly brightening; the straight line of his mouth curving into a smile that brought Alex of old back to the fore.

Charlotte’s heart must be controlled by invisible strings attached to his mouth when he smiled precisely like
that
for it swooned and leapt as if choreographed by a master director.

“Your papa is just frightfully busy and has much on his mind.” She smiled in return while trying to wrestle her heart into abeyance lest it leap from her chest. “Come, let’s allow him to return home. We shall see him tomorrow.”

She took Nicholas’s hand in hers and turned to leave when Alex asked softly, “Are you not forgetting something?”

Puzzled, Charlotte looked around. The footmen had already unloaded the trunks. That was the sum of everything she’d taken with them to London.

“No, I believe—”

Before she could finish, Alex’s mouth was on hers. His tongue touched hers in a move too quick to satisfy, and then the kiss was over. But while the kiss was the briefest they’d shared since her return, it was its potency that proved so affecting, spinning her senses and making jelly of her thoughts.

“Tomorrow,” was all he said before climbing back into the carriage. She heard two sharp raps against the roof and then the carriage was off.

Charlotte touched her gloved hand to her mouth.

“Papa kisses you a lot,” Nicholas said, giggling, his eyes dancing and his grin wide.

If only her son knew how much she loved kissing his father, Charlotte mused.

“That is what married people do, my dear.”

“I’m not gettin’ mareweed if I have to kiss a girl.”

“I should certainly hope not. You’re entirely too young to get married,” her sister chimed from where she stood framed in the front doorway.

And that was all it took. Nicholas left her side in a mad dash toward his aunt. He proceeded to greet her as if he’d known and loved her his entire four years.

They hugged for several seconds. Then upon spotting his cousins coming barreling down the stairs toward him, her son was gone.

Charlotte came to stand by her sister’s side.

“It would appear things went well in London. I insist you tell me all about it and don’t you dare leave anything out.”

Two hours later, after Nicholas had been fed and was playing a game of rounders outside with his cousins, Missy, Charlotte and Katie sat in the parlor taking their midday tea.