A Promise of More (32 page)

Beatrice nodded. “You are right. He is Dunmire’s son. But you didn’t ask who his mother was. You just looked and blamed me. You didn’t trust me. Even after I had said that trust was the only thing we have in our marriage. You didn’t stay around to ask me the truth.”

He sneered. “So you could tell me more lies? You told me no other man wanted you and that is why you had come to me, that you had no choice but to marry me. Was that true?”

She felt her face flush with color. She knew that what she said next would destroy whatever little faith he had in her. “Not exactly.”

Sebastian threw back his head and laughed. It was a hollow laugh, filled with pain. She didn’t take any comfort from that. Monica’s words rang in her head. Why would he be so hurt if he didn’t have feelings for her?

“I’m beginning to wonder if you knew I hadn’t killed Doogie too. You simply needed me to believe I had shot him in the duel so I’d marry you. Perhaps you’re H.B.”

Beatrice cringed as if he’d physically struck her. “You think I’d kill my brother?”

His silence said all.

She stood and moved to the bed, where she collected some letters. She walked back to her husband and put her heart and her life, and Henry’s future, in his hands. “Read. Read these letters, they explain everything. And when you are ready to talk, to apologize, come and find me.”

She made her way to her bedchamber, but at the connecting door between their rooms she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “And when you read them, have a look at the initials on one of the letters. That is where I remembered H.B. from. H.B. is clearly on one of them. The letters are from Dunmire. David Henry Bartholomew, Earl of Dunmire.”

With that, she quietly left his room.

Sebastian looked down at the pile of letters in his hands. He didn’t want to read them but knew he would. A little bit of hope saw him pull free the ribbon that held the letters together, and he picked the first one up and started reading.

Dear Bea,

You don’t know what your friendship means to me. When all
society has shunned me for my shame, you alone have stood by me. I know deep in my heart you are a beautiful person, inside and out. I know you wanted me to go and tell the world what Dunmire had done to me, but I couldn’t do that. I’m not as strong as you.

Besides, it wouldn’t have made any difference. They still would have shunned me for being the stupid girl who walked into a darkened garden and met a man she really knew nothing about, a man with two faces in this world, one a respectable lord’s, and the other a monster’s.

So now I’m going to do the only thing I can do for my son. I’m going to beg, plead, and pray for your help, counting on my best friend’s loving heart.

We both know I’m dying. The infection is spreading and I’m growing weaker every day. All I care about now is what happens to Henry. I want you to promise me that you will look after him. I have a little bit of money saved, enough to lease a small house somewhere. I know it may also help you too, if your family situation gets any worse, for it gives you a place to escape to. I know what your mother wants you to do and I have to try and help you. There is no way you can marry a monster like Dunmire.

So please, I ask you, no I beg you, to look after Henry for me. To ensure he is loved and cherished, and perhaps one day you can tell him a little bit about his mother and how much she loved him regardless of how he was made. Even more, I want you to promise that Dunmire never finds out about his son. He is unlikely to ever want to acknowledge him, but he is a vindictive man. There is no knowing what he will do if he finds he has leverage over you.

Your devoted friend,

Lizandra

Sebastian let the letter drop from his fingers, sobriety almost instantaneous. Now he understood why Beatrice could never marry Dunmire and why she had turned to him out of desperation. He didn’t blame her; all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and beg her forgiveness.

Any anger he felt was now directed at one man. A man whom he would challenge tomorrow morning if that was what Beatrice wanted.

He looked down at his clothes and realized he wanted a bath. He wanted to wash the smell of Christina from his body before he went to his wife and got down on his knees and begged her to forgive him.

He walked into the bathing chamber and began filling the bath. He stripped the clothes from his body and threw them in a corner, and as he stepped into the bath he took the packet of letters with him and began to read them one by one. As he read, his anger toward Dunmire grew and grew. His pity for Lizzy also tugged at his heart.

He couldn’t say he remembered the woman. He tended to stay clear of single ladies of marriageable age, but he had a brief memory of a plain girl with slightly crooked teeth. He also learned from the letters that Lizandra had no brothers to protect her, and he understood that was what Dunmire counted on when he attacked the young woman. She had no one to turn to for help.

Except Beatrice.

Loyal. Empathetic. Courageous. Beautiful Beatrice.

He’d kill Dunmire slowly.

He rested his head back against the tub and realized that Marisa and Helen were very lucky to have him to ensure their safety. He should be taking his responsibilities of looking after their welfare more seriously. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually accompanied them to a ball and made sure they were well chaperoned. He had forgotten that there were men like Dunmire out there.

Once he was dressed, he made his way slowly into his wife’s bedchamber. She was sitting by the fire, looking beautiful but forlorn.

She glanced up as he entered, her face showing no emotion as she returned his gaze. He simply walked across the room, got down on his knees in front of her, and laid his head in her lap.

“Please forgive me. I lashed out. I should have asked you about Henry and not reacted so ridiculously.”

Beatrice began stroking his hair, running her fingers through it, and he loved
the touch.

“Why did you lash out? Why did you not stop and discuss Henry with me?”

He raised his head to look at her. “I was hurt. I thought you had played me for a fool.”

“So it was only your pride that was hurt?” She regarded him knowingly.

He took a gulp of air and knew he would be a coward if he didn’t face what she was really asking: did he have feelings for her? “No, it wasn’t solely about my pride. I have come to have feelings for you. I don’t know what those feelings mean, and I’m scared of them. I have always thought that love was a weakness. That love gave another the ability to hurt.”

“Love doesn’t hurt. I don’t know about your parents’ marriage, so it is hard to comment, but if you love someone you would never wish to hurt them. You would never want to be with anyone else just to cause pain. I know, because you were obviously with someone tonight and my heart hurts like a weeping wound.”

“I went to Christina.”

Beatrice tried to look away. Tried to hide the pain that flooded her face at his words. But he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “I stopped before … I admit I went there thinking to be with Christina so I could lash out at you, and hurt you. But I couldn’t do it. I realized that is exactly what my father and mother did. I also realized you were right. If you care for someone, you can’t hurt them. It was a revelation to me. Everyone told me my parents’ marriage was a love match, but it obviously wasn’t, because love doesn’t allow you to hurt another.”

“Love? You love me?”

“I suspect I’ve loved you from the minute I saw you, lying like a siren mermaid on the deck of my ship. When you proposed marriage, I agreed not because I had to, but because I knew you are the woman I have been looking for all my life,” he whispered, “and it scared me to death.”

“Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth and for trusting me with your feelings. I know what my feelings are. I think I loved you from the minute you told me you hadn’t killed Doogie. But because of the way we met, we haven’t been able to trust each other. And I know, for us to have a real relationship, for us to be able to love each other fully, trust has to be there. So I’m going to ask you, do you trust me?”

He rose up and took her mouth in a bruising kiss, pouring everything he felt into it. When he drew back, he looked at her and said, “I trust you with my life.”

The smile that broke on Beatrice’s face was all the reward he needed, and she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

Beatrice knew they still had a lot of growing to do. She was relieved he hadn’t broken his wedding vows. She wasn’t sure she could forgive easily.

She did have courage when it came to Henry, though.

“I want to know what you are going to do about Henry. I hope you will allow me to continue to support him.”

“So that is what you spent your pin money on.” He lifted her up and pulled her onto his lap. “Lizzy’s letter was right. Henry is the innocent party in all of this, and I for one intend to ensure that his welfare is looked after. How would you like it if we brought Henry into our home and I assumed guardianship of him? Dunmire would never be able to touch him if I did that.”

Beatrice just looked at him in astonishment. Her heart opened and she realized what a good man Sebastian really was. No wonder she’d fallen completely in love with him. With tears in her eyes, she leaned down and placed her lips gently on his. “Thank you. I would love that more than anything. Monica could be his nanny. What about Marisa and Helen and Aunt Alison? What will they think?”

“I have two sisters who could easily have been duped by a man like Dunmire if not for my protection. I think it is about time I explained some of the nasty things in life to them. I’m sure once they hear the story, they will open their hearts and be quite happy that Henry is joining our family.”

“You are a good man, Sebastian. You have a big heart and you are very kind. I’m lucky you agreed to my bargain all those days ago. It seems like an eternity since we met. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t believe me about Henry.”

“I’m so pleased you’re a strong woman, Beatrice. You stood up to me. I love that about you.”

She paused for a moment, struggling with self-doubt. “You can accuse me of being Henpeck Hennessey if you want, but I warn you now, if you ever stray, you’ll lose my trust. I won’t stay quiet.”

“You can henpeck me all you like, because I know that means you care.” He added soberly, “There is nothing I treasure more than you and our newfound trust, so hard won. I promise I’d sooner lose everything than your trust, respect, and love. You are the only woman for me, my love.”

“Show me. I’ve missed you in my bed these last few nights.”

He leaned down and briefly kissed her. “It would be my pleasure, darling.” Sebastian carried her, the moonlight bathing her canopied four-poster in a soft ethereal glow. He gently lowered her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“Roll over now unless you want me to rip this gown off your body.”

She laughed and rolled onto her stomach as he requested, lying facedown on the soft mattress. “Don’t you dare, how would I explain to the girls what happened to it?” Her question ended on a soft moan when Sebastian’s warm lips began trailing down her bare back as he undid each hook.

Her body softened, eager for his expert loving. Pleasure washed in a warm wave down the length of her body. His hot mouth planted kisses down her spine, the faint hint of stubble face brushing against the rising curve of her now bare backside.

Sebastian drew out her undressing until her nerves screamed. She was quickly divested of all her clothes except for her stockings and garters. She lay contentedly upon the soft mattress, letting his hands and mouth stoke her desire. Then he was gone. She looked back over her shoulder to see him standing, still fully dressed, just staring at her. She made to turn over, suddenly shy.

“No. Don’t move. Stay exactly as you are.”

Secure in their newfound trust, she did as he requested but she turned her head to watch him undress.

Sebastian stood smiling at the end of her bed, heating every inch of her bare skin with just his eyes. Holding her gaze, he slowly pulled off his unbuttoned coat and dropped it behind him. His fingers seemed to fumble for a moment on the buttons of his waistcoat and it seemed like forever until he shed that as well.

She swallowed as he pulled his white shirt of fine lawn from the waistband of his trousers and in one swift movement pulled the shirt over his head. She watched it flutter to the floor until the beauty it exposed caught her attention. She marveled at the breadth of his wide shoulders, the clean sweep of his taut waist, and the rippling muscles of his chest and stomach that called to her until she trembled in anticipation. “God, you’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Their eyes met. The heat and fire in his gaze could burn her. He quickly divested himself of his boots and breeches, and this time when she looked at him, she forgot to breathe.