Every Scandalous Secret (25 page)

“Anything?” Susanna asked, spreading out books on a little writing desk. “These had your name inscribed in them.”

He ran his fingers over several covers, as if touching
A Guide to the Arrangement of Insects
or
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
would help. “I remember these books, of course, but then they’re here in front of me. It’s like there are faint echoes of ghosts, indistinct, without a face. I remember feeling . . . happy here.”

“Happy—learning?” she asked, pretending shock. “Who could believe it?”

He laughed, easing some of the tension, and watched as she opened the door to a cupboard.

“I found these,” she said, backing away.

He saw a board with shapes affixed to it, and came closer. “What is it?”

“I believe it’s your version of a Roman temple,” she said wryly. She pulled forth a piece of Bristol board. “Look, you made a painting of a bird. Not bad for a child. Your tutor must have enjoyed bringing out your talents. Do you remember feeling close to him?”

He studied it, realizing that he could hear the faintest echo of voices in his head, another boy—Simon?—and a man, who laughed good-naturedly. He fastened on the memory, rubbing his forehead as if to wipe away the ache.

Very good work, Leo.

Thank you, Mr. Boorde.

When Simon leaves for school, you and I will become Egyptian explorers.

The missing pieces of his memory seemed to suddenly click into place, and he felt a sick coalition of dread in his stomach. His whole world, everything he thought he was—gone. “Close to Mr. Boorde? Yes, it seems we were.”

Susanna clutched his sleeve. “Leo, what is it? You sound—you sound . . .” She didn’t go on, only watched him with wide eyes full of growing fear.

He wanted to lie to her, to pretend he’d remembered nothing. It would be so much easier that way, and maybe, eventually, he’d forget it all again.

But Susanna stood there, her concern so very evident in her moist eyes. She cared about him. Somehow he’d been lucky enough to find such a woman. He certainly didn’t deserve anything approaching love.

Though Leo cleared his throat, his voice still sounded husky as he said, “He made a confession to me after we fell into the cave.”

She blinked at him in confusion. “A confession?”

“He said he was my father,” Leo said bitterly. “And then he died.”

Chapter 22

S
usanna couldn’t make a sound—her throat seemed to close up as she stared into Leo’s bleak eyes. He was staring down at the childish painting, running his fingers absently across it.

“I’m not a true Wade,” he said, sounding dazed.

“How can you be certain?” she whispered.

“Why would he lie as he was dying? I remember him now, and he had green eyes like mine.”

“That might mean nothing.”

“He took me everywhere, shared his love of learning with me. My own parents were less than interested, glad I was off their hands. They fought all the time, and sometimes I would run to my room and cover my ears for hours, hoping not to hear anything. Do you think they fought because of me? Because of what my mother had done?”

“I don’t know, Leo. But perhaps now you can understand why you never had a good relationship with her. Part of you must have remembered what she’d done.” She wanted to soothe him, but she understood that his pain couldn’t be eased. The father he’d thought of as his own was unrelated, cuckolded by Lady Wade.

Leo set the painting back in the cupboard and closed the door, even as a calmer expression smoothed out his features. “I’m relieved to know the truth, but there’s nothing that can be done.”

“Leo, you don’t have to perform for me.”

His eyes were impassive, his thoughts shuttered from her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You may have entertained your family, unconsciously keeping them from thinking of these dark secrets, but you’ll never have to do the same with me. I’m stronger than that. Our marriage is what we make of it, and it won’t be like your parents’.”

He cupped the side of her neck, even as he gave her a faint, tired smile. “It’s all right, Susanna. This old scandal isn’t important. I’ll get over it.”

“Over it?” she cried, searching his face. “But Leo—”

“I know the truth, and it can no longer haunt me. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep.” He walked toward the door, then turned and held out his hand. “Coming?”

Silently, she took his hand and followed him, but her worry wasn’t going to fade away. Part of her hoped this revelation would help them—at last she knew all of Leo’s secrets—but she still had a feeling of impending trouble. Perhaps being with his brother would make him see that having a secret father didn’t change the man he was.

A
lone in his study late that afternoon, Leo found himself remembering what it was like as a child, when all the world had been full of exciting adventures. Mr. Boorde had brought him book after book about Roman antiquities, a particular fascination of the man. They’d visited St. Albans together. Leo remembered how patient Mr. Boorde had been with his endless curiosity when his parents had been overwhelmed by him. Leo had led the way on their fatal walk, ignored Mr. Boorde’s instructions to remain nearby.

Leo couldn’t blame himself for the man’s death, but it was his own curiosity that had led to it. And he realized that afterward, along with the memories he’d abolished, he’d given up on everything intellectual. Punishing himself? He didn’t know.

He began to page through the book on Roman antiquities, looking for similarities to what had been discovered on his land. Without making a conscious decision, he opened a notebook and began to write.

When he received word that his brother and his wife would arrive the next day, he laid aside the work he’d been doing. Their visit would distract Susanna from following him with her very worried gaze, as if he would shatter like a broken window, and she had to catch the pieces.

He wasn’t going to break; the truth was a relief. He’d always felt himself different than his brother and sister, and now he knew why. It didn’t make him any less of a sibling to them, he told himself. But after watching his parents’ marriage for so many years, he had to face the fact that he didn’t know
how
to be a good husband. He could keep her satisfied in bed, but was that enough?

And was it satisfaction, when they took each other in the dark? Perhaps it wasn’t just Susanna who was hiding.

A
s the carriage with the Wade coat of arms pulled to a stop outside their front door the next afternoon, Susanna stood beside her husband and told herself to stop being nervous. How could his family be disappointed that he had a wife to settle him down and give him children?

After the footman opened the carriage door, Viscount Wade descended first, feeling for the folded-down stairs with his foot before placing his weight, then reaching the ground. He turned and lifted up his hand, and his wife, Louisa, leaned out to take it, smiling down at him as if he could see her. She wore a jaunty hat perched on the most flaming red hair Susanna had ever seen, making her own auburn look positively subdued.

Susanna turned to Leo. “You and your brother both married redheads!”

He laughed, and the sound made her feel positively warm with happiness.

Once Louisa was on her feet, she looked up at the mansion with frank interest. It was suddenly apparent that she was with child. Louisa spotted them almost immediately and waved, then her eyes widened on noticing Susanna. She leaned to say something to Lord Wade, whose only response was a shake of his head.

“She’s confused,” Susanna whispered. “We should go make our announcement.”

“Let them enter the house,” Leo said. “You’re far too eager.”

“Nervous, so very nervous.”

“More nervous than with your parents?”

“Of course! I trusted my parents enough to know that I could eventually win them over. But your family . . .” She let her voice trail off, then found herself chewing on her lip.

He covered her hand where it rested on his arm and squeezed. “I’m not worried at all. They will love you.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Susanna’s breath caught in wonder at the tenderness. It washed over her then, that she had a new life, the companionship she wanted, a family, and could only pray that Leo would stay this close to her once he was back in London.

“Who is this?” came the sound of a strident female voice.

Susanna jumped, knowing she’d been looking so deeply into Leo’s eyes she’d almost forgotten about their guests. Leo had stiffened at her side, even as they both turned. Lord Wade was escorting two women, one on each arm, and it was surely the second one who’d spoken. She had light blond hair that was fading to white. Her face was handsome, with the echo of Lord Wade’s and Leo’s bone structure in cheeks and straight nose.

Leo’s mother, she realized, and glanced surreptitiously up at her husband. His face was all that was pleasant, but his green eyes, so open a moment before, now seemed impassive.

As their guests approached, Louisa smiled with excited expectation. “Leo! How wonderful to see you!”

Lord Wade smiled. “And you aren’t standing here alone, or so Louisa informs me.”

“Simon, Mother, Louisa, allow me to introduce my wife, Susanna.”

Louisa gasped, her lovely face full of a happiness that Susanna tried to focus on, because Lady Wade’s eyes narrowed. She looked Susanna up and down like the professor might just before a dissection.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” Susanna said, curtsying. “Lord Wade, I do believe we became acquainted in London some years back.”

Though Lord Wade smiled, he didn’t get a chance to speak.

“And what was your family name?” Lady Wade asked skeptically.

“I remember,” Louisa said, reaching to take Susanna’s hand. “You’re formerly Miss Leland, cousin of the Duke of Madingley.”

Susanna was grateful for Louisa’s recognition. She remembered that Louisa was once very popular in Society, just like the Wade brothers had always been. Susanna had often stood with the chaperones and wallflowers, watching the beautiful people dance. Louisa had captured all the men’s fancy, and the Wade brothers, so handsome and charming, always bestowed dances. Lord Wade had insisted on dancing with Susanna, and though it had surely been pity, she’d been appreciative.

Lord Wade bowed his head to her, then flashed nearly the same dimpled grin that Leo used. “I remember you as well, Mrs. Wade. To think my brother has actually given you his name. It will take me some time to become used to the amazement of it all.”

“And he told us nothing about his courtship of you,” Lady Wade said skeptically. Then she stepped between Leo and Susanna and took her son’s arm, leading him inside. “Come tell me what happened, Leo.”

Susanna led Lord Wade and his wife into the small entrance hall, and saw that Lady Wade had already pulled Leo into the drawing room.

“Don’t worry,” Louisa said in a soft voice, smiling at Susanna. “Lady Wade doesn’t particularly like me either, but her opinion doesn’t matter to the Wade brothers.”

“Our mother doesn’t believe there’s a woman alive good enough for Leo,” Lord Wade said.

“Oh, and she wasn’t protective of you?” Louisa shot back, laughing up at her husband.

Susanna noticed that Lord Wade’s gaze didn’t focus on the person speaking, though he turned his head in the proper direction. She could not imagine what it must be like to lose something as important as sight. Her artwork would be impossible, she thought with a shiver.

Louisa turned back to Susanna. “Lady Wade worried that my reputation would harm Simon.”

“Yes, Leo told me.”

“He spoke to you about what happened?” Lord Wade asked sharply.

“His poor judgment?” Susanna answered. “Yes, he did. And his extreme remorse, then gratitude that everything worked out as well as it did. I hope you don’t mind. I would never repeat anything he told me.”

“Well,” Louisa said, her smile deepening, “you must be something even more wonderful, that he would willingly share his mistakes. How long have you been married?”

As they walked into the drawing room, Susanna answered the questions about their hurried wedding the way Leo had explained it to her parents.

Lady Wade, standing huddled with Leo near the expansive window overlooking the park, turned with a frown as she heard Susanna’s final words. “Gretna Green? Leo, how . . . scandalous!”

“I think it’s romantic,” Louisa said.

Susanna said nothing, well remembering how she’d been feeling at the time. Everything had changed since then, and she couldn’t have imagined that she could be so in love.

She choked on a cough and managed an apology. In love? Had she really, finally, admitted the truth to herself? The scary truth, the one that put her in Leo’s power?

She’d been in his power, under his spell, from the beginning. But was he capable of loving her?

When dinner was served not long after, Susanna sat back and enjoyed the Wade family show. Simon and Leo took turns being charming rascals, and Louisa basked in her role as the foil between them. Susanna felt shy among such powerful personalities, and the dagger glares of Lady Wade did not help.

But Leo was trying to pretend everything was right in his world, even when it wasn’t. Susanna wondered if he planned to inform anyone about his discovery. She only hoped that having his brother there would enable him to find some peace with his past.

“So you’re an artist,” Louisa said, turning to Susanna with interest. “I remember your popularity at my sister’s weekly salon for the arts.”

“Every young lady paints.” Lady Wade sniffed.

“Not every young lady gives lessons,” Leo said, “and is well-known for her work. Her paintings could be hanging in any museum.”

Susanna blushed and smiled at her husband. She noticed he did not mention her work for her father or the upcoming book. It was new, the work not completed, but she still felt a prick of disappointment. Yet now was probably not the time to inform his mother.

“Louisa is involved in helping shy debutantes come out in Society,” Lord Wade said. “It seems we alone cannot keep our wives busy.”

“I’ll be quite busy soon enough,” Louisa said, resting a hand on her stomach.

Susanna found she could not take her eyes off the new life growing inside her sister-in-law. She wanted so badly for the same to happen to her. But she was older than many young brides, and a realist besides. She would accept what God had planned for her.

But she desperately wanted to give Leo a child.

Or did she think being a father would bind him to her, giving him further reason to resist the call of his old life?

Leo watched Susanna rise to lead the way back to the drawing room, and though he came to his feet, he said, “Sweetheart, Simon and I will share a drink before we join you.”

She blushed prettily at his endearment, while his mother rolled her eyes and harrumphed.

After the females had departed, Simon said dryly, “I can imagine your expression. I’m sorry Mother just happened to choose yesterday to visit us. Rotten luck.”

“You have no idea,” Leo murmured.

“It’s the baby’s imminent arrival, I think. Although it makes me shudder to imagine her a grandmother.”

“I don’t blame you although I wish you could have brought Grandmama with you. She would have loved to meet Susanna.” He poured a brandy and pushed it toward Simon. “The libation is north of you.”