Miller, Raine - The Undoing of a Libertine (Siren Publishing Classic) (38 page)

“Are you all right? You seem very far away.”

He smiled at his beloved. “I am well, sweetheart. Just wool-gathering a bit. Thinking about how blessed I am.” He touched the tip of her nose. “Mostly because of you.” Then he remembered her words from before. “Didn’t you say you had two things to see me about?”

“Yes I did. My darling, the post has come, and a letter from—well, this has arrived for you.” Her voice betrayed the calm expression she wore as she held out the envelope to him and moved up, off his lap.

He took it from Gina’s hand and read the sender’s address.
Mdme. T. Blufette.
Dread hit him like a wall, and he was afraid to read it.

He knew fear in the moment. What would it say?
Goddamn!
Did he have an illegitimate child that he’d never known about? How could that be? He’d always used precautions, and he’d never been with Therese in that way. She was the proprietress, not a working girl. He just couldn’t imagine whatever it was that Therese Blufette wanted from him, but thought it couldn’t be good.

Gina’s expression was unreadable as she looked at him from her seat. He shook his head. “I don’t know what this is. I cannot imagine what she wants to talk to me about, but whatever it is, I want you to hear it, too. I’ll face any news she has to tell if you don’t forsake me.”

She rose from her chair and walked over to him. He stood up slowly and faced her.

Emotion overpowered him again, and he felt his vision go blurry. “I’ve never been more helpless and terrified than when you were in Strawnly’s grip. I’d die to protect you, and willingly. You are that precious to me.” He leaned a little closer. “Whatever this is Therese wants from me, I can solve if I have you safe and by my side and know you’ll always be there.”

She raised her brows. “You know I will be, Jeremy.” She spoke rather severely to him. “Please don’t doubt my loyalty, right now or in the future. After all we’ve been through, you must recognize it by now.” Her voice got deeper, the husky sound he adored tempering her chastisement. “I thought we agreed to forgive those things which came before we found each other.”

He stared at her for the longest time—her furrowed brows and solemn strength, resolute before him. It was all he could do until the words could form on his lips.

“I never believed in love. Thought it was idiotic fodder for poets and artists. But I was wrong, so very wrong. I knew of my error the day I spied you in the rain at Oakfield. Something snapped inside my chest, and I felt instantly different, changed somehow. I could sense it but had no idea how or why such feelings could be in me. I just knew I wanted you. You. It will only ever be you.” He locked on to her clear, serious eyes. “I gave up my disavowal of love in an instant and had no regrets. I wanted to love you, but more than anything I wanted you to love me.” He held out both hands to her. She grasped them in hers with strength, and he knew great relief. “And I know that you do.”

He pulled Gina into his arms. Solid under his trembling hands, her silent embrace all the reassurance he needed. Yes, his Gina was a gentle woman but stronger than anyone he’d ever known. Courage like an ancient Greek goddess. Artemis came to mind… Bow pulled taut, ready to fly a deadly arrow, steadfast to the end. What a portrait that would make—Gina portrayed as Artemis.

“You were right,” he whispered.

“About what?”

“It
does
hurt to love someone so much. And I’ve learned something else, too. Before you, all the hardness and rough behavior with those others—”

He choked on his words and heard his own voice tremble, but by God he would explain his feelings to her. This was important, and she deserved to know. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“For myself I know now what I was doing was a way to try to
feel
something because my spirit was so very empty. I didn’t know it at the time. With you though, all I could do was ‘feel.’ It was like walking into the light and seeing for the first time in my life. Such a great difference of feeling with you, my Gina. And I felt it right away. Like nothing I’ve ever known.”

Jeremy cupped her face with one hand and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “Please don’t ever leave me, Gina. I could not live in a world without you. Now that I know the joys of your love, I realize that a life without you would be no life at all.”

“You’ll never have to worry about that though,” she told him, her voice going deep and soft as she leaned into his palm.

“That’s the part of loving that hurts.”

Gina looked to him in question, her head tilted.

“Knowing that you couldn’t live without that person. That you need them so badly, you’d die if they ever left or were lost to you. It’s what happened to my mother. When my father left her, she died. Didn’t want to live anymore. I vowed never to give my heart away like she did, but history has a way of repeating itself I s’pose.” He smiled a little. “For that’s exactly what I’ve done with you.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight

of their objects than love.

—George Eliot,
The Mill on the Floss
(1860)

Walking up to the door, Georgina could feel the tension wafting off of Jeremy next to her. Therese Blufette’s private residence stood before them both, and soon they’d know whatever it was that she wanted from Jeremy.

The house itself was part of the elegant Adelphi complex, overlooking the Thames, fashionable and artfully designed by the Adam brothers of Scotland.

A butler admitted them into a cheerful white-and-gold salon with a very frail-looking Therese arranged on the chaise. She was most definitely ill, and if the suggestion had been noticeable before, now it was a surety.

“Welcome to my home, Mr. and Mrs. Greymont. Please excuse my
dishabille
and my improper greeting. I thank you for granting me this audience.” She graciously bowed her head.

“You are ill, Madame,” Jeremy said. He worded it as a statement. There was no denying the facts, and Georgina understood how it seemed wrong not to acknowledge it honestly.

“Yes. I imagine I’ll not see another spring, in this life,” she answered gently, her skin so pale it appeared almost translucent.

“Surely not, Madame,” Jeremy said.

“I apologize if my condition is uncomfortable for you, Mr. Greymont. I assure you I regret causing distress to you or your wife. ’Tis not my intention. But, my failing health is the impetus though. The reason I have asked you to come. I have so little time left, and my doctors assure me there are no treatments or therapies of any benefit to me at this stage. I am plagued with a cancer that will prove to be the victor in this fight, without a doubt.”

She folded her hands in her lap, and spoke carefully. “I have no regrets. My life has been full. I have loved and been loved. I was blessed with motherhood rather late in my life, but no less welcomed. I have a son. A wonderful boy. Twelve years old. Did you know that, Mr. Greymont?”

“We are very sorry for your troubles, Madame Blufette,” Jeremy told her. He was calm and dignified, Georgina thought. She could tell he was trying to be sympathetic to this dying woman, but bewildered and uneasy. He cleared his throat. “No, I was unaware that you had a son.” He squared his shoulders and set his jaw. “Why, Madame, have you summoned me, and why are you telling me all of this? Tell me why you speak of your son in such ominous suggestion.”

“Because apart from me, you are his only family. He is of your blood.”

“No.” Jeremy shook his head at her. “He could not possibly be my son. Madame, we have never—you and I did not ever—” He held up a palm. “You
know
he could not be mine,” Jeremy said quietly but firmly, his other hand reaching out to enclose Georgina’s smaller one in a tight clasp.

“Not your son, Mr. Greymont. Your brother.” She nodded slowly. “My son’s father and yours are one in the same—Henri Greymont. My son is your brother. You share blood and a name. He is called Revé. Revé Greymont.”

Georgina felt her hand get squeezed tighter and breath expel out of Jeremy. He was in shock. Such shock that she imagined Therese could have toppled him with only the tiniest of nudges.

Jeremy leapt up off of the settee all in a rush and then dragged a shaking hand through his hair, making it spread out in disarray. “Can this be true?” Jeremy looked at Georgina first and then back at Therese. There was a tremble in his lip. “I have a brother…” Jeremy sat down again.

* * * *

Jeremy sat down before his legs gave out and he ended up flat on his own arse.
A brother…
“How is this?” he managed to choke out.

Therese answered him softly. “I met your father in France. He was handsome and charming and vibrant. I did love him, Mr. Greymont. For my part, the feelings were genuine. It was thirteen years ago. I had thought a child an impossibility for me, but alas I conceived Revé much to my surprise. Henri seemed delighted at the prospect, and we were happy, or at least I was.”

She paused in reflection, a melancholy expression lighting her gaunt features. “Our marriage was a short one, less than a year. One night he didn’t return home. I don’t know what happened to him, if he got into trouble with debts and vengeful creditors, or desired to hold on to his freedom, or simply caught up with the wrong crowd. His body was found in an alley behind a gaming house about a week later. He never saw his son.”

Therese was seized with a fit of coughing that delayed her story. Her thin shoulder bones made for sharp edges underneath a Chinese silk shawl of deep yellow that gave the illusion of warmth and cheerfulness that wasn’t there. A mirage, Jeremy thought, his mind in a daze from the information Therese had shared.

“I took the legacy left me by my father and came to England. Made my life here. Revé is away at school right now. He knows nothing of my life aside from being his mamma and this home. He knows his father is dead, but doesn’t know that Henri had another family before.
The Velvet Swan
and its dealings are also unknown to him, and I wish it to remain as such. I have sold my interests in any case. Luc and Marguerite have been set up and are already in France, and situations are being found for the other servants.”

“Why did you never tell me? All those years you knew and didn’t say anything.” He couldn’t keep the accusation from his voice and knew it showed how wounded he was by her omission.

“I am sorry for that. Deeply sorry. I believed you would resent Revé and imagine my motives to be other than familial in connection. That is all I want from you, Mr. Greymont, nothing more. There is a generous settlement for Revé. My solicitor has all of the details. His education is already secured, and he will have this house…” She trailed off, her voice stuttering with emotion.

Jeremy lifted his eyes to Therese, still dazed, but sure of his feelings. “I have no resentment for my brother. My father, yes, but never an innocent.” He felt Gina’s hand return to take his in a clasp. He looked at her and said, “I have a brother, Gina.” He smiled.

“You do. Jeremy, ’tis wonderful.”

“It is,” he whispered in awe.

Therese let out a sob from across the room. “Forgive me, both of you, please. I now know it was wrong of me not to tell you years ago. I have been so afraid, Mr. Greymont. Afraid of leaving my child wholly alone in this world. Only twelve years old, and when I am gone, not one person to call family. No one to care for him and guide him into manhood. No one to…love him…” She broke down then, unable to hold back her mother’s tears.

Life presented challenges, and sometimes opportunities. This was an opportunity. Jeremy recognized it and embraced it for what it was. He knew what he would do with it.

All those years of feeling unworthy. Of believing he was lacking. He’d been loved by his mother and his grandparents, yes. But not by Henri Greymont. Jeremy’s father had not even been bothered by him, let alone shown a scrap of affection. Why, why, why? No answer would be forthcoming to that question. Nobody knew why Jeremy’s father hadn’t cared for his wife and son. It simply existed as the painful reality.