His Sinful Secret (30 page)

“I have my reasons.” Lawrence clearly didn’t intend to offer them. “Besides, you’ve proven you can evade him if need be, so you can keep your deep secrets, my lord. But perhaps you should always consider he might be useful.”

The door opened with a soft creak.

Had Julianne been paying attention she might have noticed the library was occupied, but she was looking downward at the small child she held by the hand. His study was a bit too informal to receive a lady, and Michael hardly wanted his mother to join him and his guests in the drawing room, so the library had been a safe and logical choice. Apparently luck was not on his side at this moment.

He rose to his feet. “Good morning.”

Julianne looked up at once, taking in Antonia’s presence and that of a strange man. “Oh.” She was obviously flustered and said hastily, “I am sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize anyone would be using the library. . . . I was hoping there would be some picture books in here. I couldn’t find any in the nursery.”

“You are not interrupting,” he said smoothly, noticing Antonia’s gaze first fixed on the child and then slid to him, and back. He didn’t blame her. He was a bit taken aback himself.

Now he understood exactly why Julianne was convinced this was Harry’s child. Bathed and dry, her soft chestnut curls were exactly the same color as his own hair, and her eyes the vivid hazel color that was a Hepburn trait. Moreover, her facial features held a most distinctive familial stamp.

It took a moment to realize that Julianne was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. “My dear, you know Lady Taylor, of course, and this is Lawrence. Lawrence, my wife, Lady Longhaven.”

“Captain Lawrence,” the man in question corrected him, and bent over Julianne’s hand with beautiful courtesy. “A pleasure, madam.”

Captain? Interesting.
Michael had never been able to find out anything about Lawrence’s past.

Julianne, sweetly pretty this morning in a white gown with small roses embroidered on the fabric and her hair loosely gathered in a simple style that allowed tendrils to frame her delicate face, murmured, “The pleasure is mine, sir.”

Michael was aware that Antonia was staring at him with fixed accusation for the second time since her arrival. However, it seemed wrong to inform anyone else before his parents were told about his niece. He knew his two colleagues wouldn’t gossip over it—in their profession, gossip was ill-advised—but he still had an ethical dilemma over revealing the truth to anyone else until he found out how his father and mother wished to deal with the unexpected existence of an illegitimate grandchild. Not that Michael had any intention of going back on his promise to Julianne over raising the child themselves, but he did want to take into consideration his parents’ feelings over how to present her to the world. Had his father not had an early meeting, the discussion would already have taken place. After an evening of guests, his mother was still in bed, so hopefully she hadn’t yet heard about Julianne’s dramatic arrival the night before.

“What a beautiful child,” Antonia murmured with icy intonation, still gazing at him.

Julianne caught the slant of inference, for she glanced down at the little girl standing so solemnly next to her and a faint pink appeared in her cheeks as she looked back up at Michael in clear uncertainty.

As if it wasn’t bad enough to have some unknown woman out there hiring ruffians to kill him, and Roget possibly at large, and now this delicate family issue, it seemed his ill luck held with this new awkward-as-hell situation.

 

Lady Taylor obviously had come to the conclusion that Chloe was Michael’s daughter. Julianne’s initial reaction to that assumption was mixed. He was a grown man and didn’t need her to defend him, but the question arose why the beautiful Spaniard was so outraged in the first place.

If they were just friends, as Lady Taylor had told her outright, why the fierce stare?

If their involvement was truly over, why was the woman even calling at this unfashionable hour? Julianne had expected to find the library deserted—and she certainly had not expected
this
.

Lawrence, the man with the interesting scar, said decisively, “Antonia, simple mathematics will deny what you are thinking. Come, now. We’ve given his lordship the information he needs. Let us go.”

After a brief hesitation Lady Taylor rose in a sweep of graceful skirts, and though she doubted it happened often, Julianne thought she looked chagrined at the gentle rebuke, her olive skin slightly flushed. “Of course.” She inclined her head. “Lady Longhaven, it is nice to see you.”

Within a moment, Julianne was alone with Michael except for Chloe, who still clung to her hand, silent as always. “I intruded,” she said as neutrally as possible. “In my defense, I thought no one would be in here. She woke early.”

“There’s no need to apologize. They were ready to depart anyway.”

Julianne didn’t really want to have an argument—was it even possible to have an argument with Michael?—but she especially didn’t want to do it in front of little Chloe, who still stared with wide eyes up at the man standing a few feet away.

To a certain extent, Julianne didn’t blame her for being intimidated. He looked very tall in the muted confines of the elegant library, dressed in conservative gray and black, his light brown hair waving back from his fine-boned face, his eyes unreadable.

He could do unreadable so well, and she couldn’t do it at all.

They were very unevenly matched and it wasn’t fair.

But while she had questions—she had considerable questions, actually—this was not the time to ask them, not with Chloe’s small hand in hers. Though she had no experience with children, Julianne had the sense the little girl understood more than one might imagine at her young age.

The events of the day before hadn’t been auspicious, and Julianne didn’t blame Chloe for falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Her own night had been restless and she’d seen the faint circles under her eyes this morning in the mirror and resigned herself to the fact that this was not going to be an easy day either. She knelt and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Darling, this is your uncle Michael.”

How odd it was for such a simple phrase to undo such a normally daunting and self-possessed man. This time she
could
see a reaction. That he was nonplussed was not in question.

It took a few seconds, but he said quietly, “Good morning, Chloe.” Then he addressed Julianne again. “You found something decent for her to wear.”

“My maid told me Cook has a granddaughter the same age. She was only too happy to help.”

“If that many of the servants already know, I’m glad I told my mother’s maid to inform me the moment she wakes so I explain before the staff’s speculation reaches her ears.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a cynical quirk. “I wonder how rife the whispers are already with the assumption she is mine.”

“I saw how Lady Taylor reacted. That part of it hadn’t occurred to me.” Julianne straightened and kept her voice carefully neutral.

“My reputation is somewhat less pristine than Harry’s. Even I am surprised at his indiscretion.” His agreement was resigned. “But I now see how you accepted the woman’s allegations that Harry was responsible.”

“The likeness is rather extraordinary, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed.”

“And Captain Lawrence is correct. You were in Spain when she was conceived.”

“Believe it or not, my dear Julianne, soldiers frequently enough father illegitimate children; however, that is neither here nor there. I do not care what people think, but I do care about how my parents will react.” He hesitated before he added, “Last night, while I contemplated how to handle this, I considered taking the responsibility for her existence, but decided it was too much to ask of you. The gossipmongers would delightedly pounce on the idea that I asked you to take in my illegitimate child.”

“Whereas they aren’t going to say a word that I am now raising the child of the man I was supposed to be affianced to?” Julianne couldn’t quite hide her cynicism. She hadn’t been out in society long, but long enough to understand the talons were sharp and the grip fierce. “Thank you for the consideration, but I think the truth will do quite well anyway. You’ve been self-sacrificing enough.”

She’d startled him. It gave her joy to realize she knew him well enough to see it, for though his expression didn’t visibly change, it was there in his eyes in a certain sharpening inquiry. “You married me,” she expounded softly, “when you didn’t wish to. You juggle the responsibilities you enjoy with the ones you consider to be drudgery without complaint, serving your country and your family at the same time. When you become duke, you will take on that mantle and deal with it to the best of your ability, which means with great competence and duty. I do not get the impression your personal happiness is something to which you give much thought, but it
does
concern me.”

“Does it, now?” The question was murmured, but his gaze held hers with a sudden, palpable, searing intensity.

“Yes,” she said firmly, an irrational joy invading her because of his reaction. He could conceal so much, but she
saw
it. “And I will not let you risk your parents’ censure where you don’t deserve it. Besides, Chloe is not a mistake, but a blessing. Though Harry might not appear as much the perfect son as before—he obviously wasn’t perfect—that is no reason to love him less, and they won’t.”

“For someone so young and innocent, you are rather insightful. I don’t think of myself as self-sacrificing, but then again, I don’t analyze myself often.” His lashes lowered a fraction. “I think it would be more apt to say I try not to look too deep. And no doubt you are right about my parents. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Their love for Harry won’t be changed.”

“No,” she agreed, her throat a little tight. It was how he was looking at her, as if it weren’t ten in the morning, if the door to the library weren’t still ajar, if Chloe weren’t right there, he would take her in his arms as he’d done the night before and kiss her with the same lingering tenderness.

This was no longer just about passion for either of them, or at least she hoped so.

“I think about your happiness also.” He took a slow step closer, but froze as Chloe pressed against her skirts. His smile was rueful. “She’s afraid of me.”

Julianne placed a comforting hand on Chloe’s shoulder. It was no wonder the child was timid. Her life so far had no doubt been a difficult one. “She doesn’t know you and you are rather tall, my lord. She will learn to trust you.”

“Lord Longhaven?”

One of the maids peered in apologetically through the open door. “I am supposed to tell you Her Grace has just breakfasted in her room and suggests you join her in her sitting room for the audience you requested.”

Michael said calmly, “Thank you. Has the duke returned yet?”

“Yes, my lord. Only just.”

“Could you please ask him to join us?”

The girl curtsied and hastily departed, but not before Julianne caught a quick, furtive glance at Chloe. What did she expect? Her arrival in the midst of an elaborate dinner party, in a welter of mud with a small child that had slept in her bedroom was not going to be missed.

Michael might be his usual impervious self, but Julianne wasn’t calm at all. Butterflies stirred in her stomach. “They may not love Harry less,” she muttered, “but it is all too possible they will
not
be delighted with me.”

“
I
am delighted with you and that is what matters most,” her husband said. “Just trust me. Shall we go make the requisite clarification of why we suddenly are the guardians of a small child?”

It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was progress.

Julianne nodded, bending over to adjust the collar of the simple little dress that was slightly too big on Chloe’s petite frame. The sooner it was over, the better. Though Michael’s confidence was comforting, she knew full well that someone of the exalted rank of the Duke of Southbrook did not invite illegitimate children into his home. Provided for them, yes, but usually they were sent somewhere out of sight—and thus out of mind. Many aristocrats didn’t participate much in the raising of their legitimate children, much less a by-blow. Now that they would know of Chloe’s existence, Julianne would be powerless against their decision of what to do with her.

Well, perhaps not entirely powerless
, she thought as Michael waited politely for her to precede him out the door.

Her handsome husband was no doubt a formidable ally.

“T
hat went better than expected.”

“What
did
you expect?” His father poured him a measure of whiskey and gently pushed it across the desk with his fingers.

“I was braced for tears and protestations.” Michael took the drink, swallowed a solid gulp, and then set it aside. “You aren’t surprised?”

“What, specifically, is the question?” The Duke of Southbrook sat back, looking older, with lines around his mouth that Michael hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m speaking of Mother’s reaction.”

His father wearily ran his fingers through his graying hair. “Surprised? No, not really. I am surprised Harry wasn’t as careful as he should be . . . but he isn’t the first young gentleman to make such a blunder, nor will he be the last, I’m sure.”

“Julianne tells me the woman is an actress.”

“Good God,” his father muttered.

“For now, it appears she has disappeared. I feel confident, though, we shall hear from her again.”

“No doubt.” The two words were clipped. “I wish Harry had confided in me, but he didn’t. As for your mother’s reaction to finding herself a grandmother . . . she’d probably not have been happy to find out her son had fathered a child with a common actress a few years ago, but catastrophic loss has a way of adjusting perceptions. That child is part of our son. I think for her, as it is for me, it is enough no matter the circumstances of her birth.”