A Scandalous Secret (6 page)

Kelfield? Chet had the sudden feeling that he’d just been played a fool by the duke, but as Hannah was right before him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even after their unfortunate discussion the night before, he still couldn’t believe she was back in England, that she was close enough for him to smell and touch if he was bold enough.

But the last thing he should do was be alone with Hannah MacFadyn…er…Campbell, in a carriage. But then he always seemed to do what he shouldn’t whenever she was near. And she
did
want to discuss something with him, apparently. Chet glanced up at White’s threshold to find the Duke of Kelfield watching the proceedings with more than a little interest. But what else should he expect from one of Carteret’s oldest friends? Whatever Hannah had to say to him would be better said without extra sets of ears about.

He offered his arm to Hannah like he’d done when they were much younger. “My lady, Staveley’s carriage awaits.”

Hannah’s clear blue eyes lifted briefly to meet his gaze, then she accepted his arm and allowed Chet to lead her to Caroline’s borrowed coach. Chet gestured for the driver to stay in his box and opened the crested door himself.

“Carteret House, please,” he said as he helped Hannah into the carriage. “But take the long way.” Then he stepped inside the conveyance as well. Though he wanted nothing more than to sit beside her and pray her knee might occasionally brush his, Chet took a spot on the bench opposite her, like the gentleman he was supposed to be.

She wasn’t the same lass he’d known all those years ago and she wasn’t the formidable lady he’d encountered the previous evening, either. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Hannah was terrified of something. Though why would she come to him if she was frightened? There was nothing between them any more. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong, lass?”

He slid to the edge of the bench to see her better and somehow managed to keep from reaching out to her just as the coach lurched forward.

Hannah clasped her hands together tightly and slowly raised her gaze to his. She looked positively green. “I…”

Then nothing more came out of her mouth. All of Chet’s anger from the previous evening dissipated, he was so worried about her. He did reach out and take her clasped hands in his—to steady her, he told himself, though he knew that was a lie. But he couldn’t help it. He’d loved her so long. No matter how badly her abandonment had hurt him, he hated to see her like this, and he’d dreamt of touching her for more years than he cared to count. “Hannah love, what is it?”

***

How could she just blurt out the truth to him? She’d guarded her secret for so long she didn’t know how to make the words leave her tongue. And he looked so earnest, so concerned about her. He looked like the Chet she’d loved all those years ago, not the villain she’d come to think of him as. “That letter devastated me,” she said instead. That was much easier to talk about. And it truly was the best place to start.

A muscle twitched in his jaw and he squeezed her hands in his. “I never wrote any such letter, lass.”

But he had to have done so. She’d seen it with her own eyes. “Then who did? It was yer hand. I read every painful word more than once.”

Chet shook his head. “I don’t know. I…” His face turned slightly red as though his temper was about to erupt. “You said
Harold
took this letter to Carteret?”

The way he said the words made Hannah’s stomach roil. She nodded her head.

“God damn it, if he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him,” Chet growled more menacingly than she’d ever heard him speak to anyone.

Harold Peyton
? Was that the answer? Hannah simply gaped at Chet. She’d known his brother hadn’t approved of her, but she’d never thought he would do something so awful, something that would change the course of her life, Chet’s and…Alasdair’s. “But it was
yer
hand, Chet. I ken it was. I wouldna have left otherwise, no matter what James said.”

He nodded curtly. “Oh, I’m sure it looked a great deal like my handwriting.”

“Ye doona believe me?”

He laughed sadly and shook his head. “No, I believe you. I’m just having a difficult time accepting that my brother would do that to me, to us.” His green eyes bored into hers and Hannah felt lost in his depths. “I remember one time Harold wrote a note in Vernon’s hand. It was just a lark, a love letter to the local vicar’s daughter. Though, ‘love letter’ is a euphemism. I’ll spare you the details of the note, but suffice it to say, the words were vulgar enough that the girl gave the letter to her father, who paid a visit to our father, and poor Vernon couldn’t sit for a week.”

Hannah’s mouth fell open. “He could copy others’ handwritin’?”

“A talent he developed at Eton,” Chet confirmed. “I had no idea he’d continued the practice into adulthood.”

Hannah thought she might be sick. Her entire world had been turned upside down all for “A prank?” she asked. “Are ye sayin’ this was all a prank?”

Chet shook his head. “I’m sure he meant for you to run just as you did.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I curse the ground he rests in. Damned nuisance you can’t punish the dead.” Then he leaned across the coach, so close she could smell the cheroot on his breath. “Hannah, I am sorry. I don’t know what he said in that letter, but I am so terribly sorry you thought the words were mine. I would never have done anything to hurt you. I loved you with my whole heart and soul.”

Tears trickled down Hannah’s face and she swiped at them. This revelation wasn’t one she had prepared for. What was she to do with the information now? How was she to make sense of everything that had happened afterward?

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Chet slid across the coach to sit beside her. He offered her a handkerchief, the whole time looking at her as though she were a patron saint. But she was not. He would hate her when he learned the truth. And so would Alasdair.

“Doona be nice ta me,” she whispered.

“Nice?” he chuckled. “Hannah, don’t you see? We can start over. Or try to, if you’ll give me the chance. I don’t know that either of us are the same people we were all those years ago, but I do know that I’ve never stopped loving you.” And then he very gently pulled her to his lap and pressed his lips to hers.

At once, Hannah was lost in his embrace, the feel of his warm body surrounding her, the feel of his soft lips, the comfort she hadn’t felt in a very long time. When she sighed, Chet groaned and his tongue slipped between her lips. Havers, he smelled and tasted the way she remembered, and she felt like the same lovesick lass she’d been once upon a time.

Hannah wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her as though he might vanish otherwise. Her tongue tangled with his in a slow give and take as a sense of belonging washed over her. She had loved Malcolm, but it was never like…

Malcolm
. Guilt seeped into her thoughts.

What a horrible widow she was. Hannah pushed against Chet’s chest and scrambled out of his reach. “I’m sorry, that was wrong of me.”

An expression of pain flashed across his features, but then he cupped her face so he could stare into her eyes. “How exactly is that wrong, Hannah?”

How would she ever explain it? “I’ve only been widowed for two months. I owe my husband the same loyalty he showed me in life.”

Chet released a sigh. “Loyalty? Love, Major Campbell is gone. Your loyalty to him is no longer required. You’re as free as I am, lass. We can have a second chance that very few ever receive.”

Chet nodded. “And I want to meet them. I want them to like me. I want to do whatever will make you happy. Just don’t run away again.”

This was all happening too fast. She hadn’t planned on any of this. Hannah closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. Not right now. “Chet, ye are one of the dearest men I’ve ever kent. But there’s somethin’ I have ta tell ye.”

“There’s not someone else?” he asked, pain lacing his words.

Hannah shook her head. “No.” She opened her eyes again to find him studying her for all his worth. “But I do still have somethin’ ye need ta ken.”

“Ye said ye were listenin’. It’s hard enough ta tell ye. Just let me speak.” When he nodded, Hannah continued. “James bundled me inta his travelin’ coach and we headed home as fast as the driver could take us. By the time we reached Briarstrath, it was obvious somethin’ wasna right with me.” When his gaze intensified on her, Hannah took another steadying breath. “Then Dr. Fraser confirmed I was with child.”

***

Chet’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. She’d been with child? With his child? It had to be. She’d been an innocent before her night spent with him. Thank God he wasn’t standing; he’d have fallen to the ground otherwise upon hearing the news. As it was, a chill crawled up his spine.

“I dinna ken what ta do,” she continued softly, “and I doona ken what I would have done without James. He arranged for me ta marry Malcolm the very day we arrived home. Then he bought Malcolm’s colors and we left as soon as possible.”

Before Chet could even reach her. “My child?” he whispered, finally finding his voice.

She winced and her eyes dropped to her lap. “I told Malcolm before we said our vows. He had every right ta ken.”

“But I didn’t?” Chet muttered, anger seeping into his words. He had every right to know too, and yet she’d married some Scotsman and rushed for the continent before Chet could find her.

Hannah reached for his hand, anguish etched across her brow. “After the letter ye wrote… I dinna have any other choice, Chet.”

“I didn’t write the damn letter,” he whispered. Dear God, he had a son. All these years he’d had a child, and his brother had stolen his future from him. Harold was burning in hell, Chet had no doubt. “I want to meet him.”

“Of course you do.” Hannah nodded slowly. “But ye canna tell him, Chet.”

He snorted his response. Surely she didn’t intend to keep his son from him.

“Alasdair was very close ta Malcolm,” she explained. “He’s havin’ such a difficult time dealin’ with his fath…with Malcolm’s death. I doona want ta make the situation worse for him right now.”

Even though her words made sense and the last thing Chet would ever want to do would be to cause his son harm, his heart still constricted at the thought. “His name is Alasdair?”

Hannah’s face lightened a bit and she smiled for the first time that day. “After my father. He’s a strong lad, a good lad, but the last few months have been very difficult.”

Chet remembered when his own father had passed away. He’d been a boy himself at the time, and his heart went out to the son he’d never met. “Campbell was a good father, then?”

“He loved Alasdair like he was his own. Doted on him.”

The sincerity of her words eased his heart a bit. At least his son hadn’t suffered in Chet’s absence. “I want to meet him. Alasdair.”

She nodded again. “But please promise me ye willna tell him.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to lay eyes on the lad and just blurt out, ‘Nice to meet you, I’m your real father.’ Chet stared into Hannah’s pretty blue eyes and his heart tightened. How had everything in his world turned out like this? “I won’t tell him today, but I won’t make you any other promises.”

“No buts.” He shook his head. “Alasdair is my son, and I deserve to be his father if only as a step-father in the eyes of the rest of the world.”

“No,” she whispered.

Chet scoffed. “I wasn’t asking you, Hannah. I did that once before, and it didn’t turn out well for me. I missed the first dozen years of my son’s life. I won’t miss a moment more.”

“Chet.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m no’ about ta marry ye. I’m barely widowed. And I have
two
sons, no’ just the one.”

If she thought she was going to deny him his child, she was wrong. If she thought she was gong to deny him herself, she was mad. “Hannah Laren Campbell, I have every right to my family. My son and the wife I always should have had. Major Campbell raised my son, and I will return the debt by raising his.”

She clamped her lips together and folded her arms across her chest, but at least she didn’t say ‘No’ again.

***

Hannah’s mind spun the rest of the way to Carteret House. Never in a million years did she think her day would have progressed in such a way. But there was no point in discussing the situation any further with Chet. He’d made up his mind, and he wasn’t about to let her change it. So she’d wait until they reached her brother’s home, where her reinforcements were sure to be waiting. So long ago she’d dreamed of being Chet’s wife, but many years had passed and she’d gone down a different path. It was too late to go back, wasn’t it?

The coach rumbled to a stop and Chet opened the door, offering his hand to Hannah. She accepted his assistance, and together they ascended the front steps. The front door opened at the stoic butler ushered them into the corridor.

“Is his lordship in, Moffitt?”

Beside her, Chet grumbled, “I didn’t say I wanted to see
him
.”

Hannah frowned at her first love. She’d feel less guilty about this entire affair if her heart didn’t lighten a bit when she met his eyes. Blast him for making her knees slightly weak after all this time, and especially now when he was behaving so boorishly. “He is my brother. He might have a thing or two ta say about—”