The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (35 page)

BOOK: The Hellion and The Heartbreaker
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They
finished the waltz in silence, each lost to their own thoughts, each of them
secretly savoring their final moments in each other’s arms.

Chapter
18

 

Scarlett
spent a restless night after returning home from the Brookshire’s ball. 
Waltzing with Alec had stirred up so many deep-seated emotions, emotions she
had tried, but obviously failed to suppress over the past years.  She was
as much in love with him now, as she had been three years ago.  She
couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard she wished to.  However, she couldn’t
allow her unrequited love to destroy her chance at future happiness. 
Colin was right, William Morton was definitely interested in more than
friendship, and it was something she needed to consider.  During their
carriage ride home, he had expressed his desire to court her, and she, after
only a brief hesitation had assured him that she would welcome his suit. 
Though she might never develop the kind of feelings for William that she had
for Alec, she believed that she could find some measure of happiness with
William, and knew that she would be an utter fool to throw the opportunity
away.

 

 

The
following morning, standing on the lawn behind their London home, Scarlett knew
that she had made the right decision.
 
Alec would never offer her his love, and as painful as that knowledge
was, she had to accept it.  Looking over at her son, Alec’s son, she still
had no regrets however.  She had given Alec her heart, and in return he
had given her the greatest gift of all, her beautiful child.  Watching him
now, her heart swelled with love, a love so intense it was nearly impossible to
contain.

Oliver
loved being outdoors, and having just finished luncheon, he was currently
helping Monsieur Deville tend his prized herb garden.  As Scarlett watched
her son from across the yard, she couldn’t help but smile.  He was such a
wonderful boy, happy, intelligent, loving and always eager to help with
whatever he could.

“Be
careful not to step on any of Monsieur Deville’s herbs,” she cautioned, before
turning her attention to the rose bushes that grew along the hedge that
separated their property from Alec’s.

“I’ll be
careful Mama,” Oliver called out cheerfully, clearly relishing his role as
helper.

The roses
were in full bloom and Scarlett inhaled deeply, breathing in the fragrant
aroma.  Her eyes wandered briefly toward the old iron gate, and smiling
somewhat wistfully, she recalled the times she had passed through it and into
Alec’s waiting arms.  They were wonderful memories, and she was glad she had
them.

On the
other side of the tall hedge, Alec heard Scarlett’s gentle admonition to her
son.  He had spotted them from an upstairs window a few minutes earlier
and hadn’t been able to resist venturing outside.  The sight of the boy
had made him curious.  Would Scarlett’s son be as strong-minded and
willful as she had been?  Smiling at the now fond memory, he could still
recall every vivid detail of the day he’d first met her.  Looking down, he
rubbed his thumb across the tiny scars that still marked his hand.  Unable
to resist the urge, he walked to the gate and lifted the latch.

Scarlett
heard the grating of the old iron hinges and turned her head toward the
sound.  Her breath caught in her throat as Alec pushed it open and stepped
through.  Her surprise turned to horror a moment later, however, when she
heard her son’s excited voice coming from the other side of the yard.  She
felt her stomach drop.

“Mama,
look what I found!”  Oliver called enthusiastically.

She turned
to see her son barreling across the lawn toward her, his little hands wrapped
around an enormous green and brown spotted bullfrog.

Quickly
she moved to stand in front of him, shielding Oliver from Alec’s view.  He
came to a skidding halt, the bullfrog proudly on display in his upstretched,
dirt-encrusted hands.  “Look Mama, look!”

Despite
the sudden, intense pounding of her heart, Scarlett bent down, careful to keep
her features composed and regarded the giant frog with the proper level of
interest and admiration.  “He’s a fine frog Oli,” she assured him. 
“In fact, I am certain that he is the finest bullfrog I have ever seen.” 
Despite her calm demeanor, she was trembling inside.  She had to get
Oliver away from Alec.

Alec
stepped to the side to get a better look at the boy, but Scarlett’s position
impeded his view.

Oliver
glanced up, and then peeked around his mother’s shoulder, noticing Alec. 
“Who’s that?”

“He’s just
an acquaintance of mine, darling.”  Scarlett stood up, positioning herself
between them.  “Now what are you going to do with that frog,” she asked,
hoping to distract him, deliberately keeping her back to Alec.

“Can I
keep him?”  Oliver asked eagerly.

“Of
course,” Scarlett nodded in response.  “Why don’t you run and ask Monsieur
Deville if he can find a crate for you to put him in,” she suggested, gently
grasping his shoulders and turning him in the opposite direction.

Alec stood
by silently, confused by Scarlett’s behavior, wondering why she hadn’t
introduced him to her son.

Scarlett
watched in relief as Oliver started back toward Monsieur Deville, praying that
Alec hadn’t noted the striking resemblance between him and her son.  Her
relief was short lived however, when Oliver suddenly lost his grip on the
frog.  She watched in horror as it sprung from his grasp.  Startled,
he stopped and then immediately turned to chase after it.  In dismay,
Scarlett watched as both Oliver and Alec moved in the same direction. 
With lightening quick reflexes, Alec darted forward and snagged the frog before
it could get away.

“You got
him, you got him,” Oliver exclaimed excitedly, his animated features reflecting
his elation.

“We can’t
have such a fine frog getting away now, can we,” Alec said to Oliver, smiling
as he knelt down in front of the boy.  As he went to put the frog in the
child’s outstretched hands, he suddenly found himself face to face with the
boy.  He was a handsome lad, with a mop of unruly dark curls, much like
his own when it wasn’t combed into place.  When Oliver glanced up, he was
met with eyes the exact same color as his own, fringed by incredibly long, dark
lashes just like his.  He stared in shocked disbelief.  His mother’s
words from the other day, suddenly echoed in his head “
he reminded me so
much of you when you were a boy
.”  For a moment, time seemed to stand
still.  No, it couldn’t be.

“Thank
you,” Oliver said, taking the frog and dashing away before Alec could speak,
running to the side of the rotund chef as he gathered his things and began
walking toward the house.

Recognizing
Alec, Monsieur Deville bowed politely in his direction as Oliver bounded
energetically at his side.

Alec stood
up slowly, watching in stunned silence until the pair disappeared into the
house.

Scarlett
regarded Alec mutely, her heart in her throat.
 
He turned to her,
his expression bewildered. 
He suspects
.  She tried to speak,
but couldn’t find her voice.  They looked at each other for several long
moments. 

Finally,
Alec spoke.  His voice was low and controlled, his expression no longer
bewildered, but frighteningly intense.  “Is he mine?”

“Alec,
I…”  Her voice broke and she looked down, unable to finish her
sentence.  She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him.

“Is - he -
mine?”  He enunciated each word, his tone now harsh and unyielding,
demanding the truth.  As soon as Scarlett raised her eyes, he had his
answer.  “Son of a bitch!” he exploded angrily.

The force
of his anger hit Scarlett like a physical blow and she took a step back, her
eyes wide as she looked into Alec’s furious expression.

Reaching
out, Alec grabbed Scarlett’s arm, dragging her towards him.  “Were you
ever going to tell me?” he demanded.

Once
again, Scarlett couldn’t seem to find her voice.  She had never seen Alec
so upset before.

“Answer
me!” he demanded, his fingers pressing forcefully into the soft flesh of her
arm.  “Were you ever going to tell me about him?”

She could
only shake her head slightly, still too shaken to speak.  He looked so
incensed that for a moment she feared he might strike her.  Instead, he
let go of her arm, turning his back to her.  She watched in silence as he
ran his fingers through his hair.  He then took several deep breaths, as
if he were trying to bring his temper under control.

As Alec
fought to calm his anger, the magnitude of the situation hit him full force. 
He had a son.  The sudden knowledge rocked him to his core.  Christ,
that darling little boy was his son, and he hadn’t even known it. 
Numerous thoughts began racing through his head, one of which was that Scarlett
must have known she was carrying his child when she’d wed her Scotsman. 
The stunning realization made him livid.  She’d kept his son a secret from
him then, and kept it still, long after the death of her husband.
 
It was an unbelievable betrayal.  If he
hadn’t wandered into their garden, coming face to face with the child himself,
he might never have known he had a son. 
God damn her to hell
, he
thought furiously. 

“Alec?”
she began nervously, unsure of what she would say, but needing to break the
agonizing silence.  He ignored her, keeping his back to her, the only
sound his heavy breathing.

When Alec
finally had himself somewhat under control, he turned to face Scarlett, his
features icy and impassive.  “I want my son.”

“Wh-what
do you mean?”  Scarlett stammered, shocked by Alec’s chilling declaration
and uncompromising expression.

“He is my
son, and I intend to claim him.”  He didn’t need time to think, time to
ponder the situation.  He had a son and he would claim him.  The boy
was his.

“Alec,
you…you can’t be serious,” Scarlett gasped.

“I assure
you that I am quite serious.  You have kept my son hidden from me for
three god-dammed years Madame,” he said, his voice rising.  “If you think
you are going to continue to keep him from me you had best think again.”

“Alec
please, can’t we just…”

He cut her
off, pinning her with his frigid gaze.  “At this moment, I suggest you
don’t say another word,” he growled, “not one more word!”

With that,
Alec turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Scarlett to stare at his back
in stunned disbelief. 
Oh dear God
, she thought desperately,
what
have I done?

 

 

When Colin
arrived home later that afternoon, Scarlett was waiting for him in the front
parlor, pacing furiously back and forth.  When she spotted him standing at
the threshold, she rushed to his side and grabbed his arm, nearly dragging him
into the foyer and then turned in the direction of his study. 

“Scarlett,
what is it?  What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly taken off guard.

When they
reached his study, she pulled him inside, shutting the door firmly behind
them. 

Looking at
her in bewilderment, Colin could see that she was shaking.  “Scarlett
what’s going on?  Has something happened?”

“He knows
Colin.  He knows about Oliver,” she told him, her tone frantic as she
clutched at the sleeve of her brother’s jacket.  “Oh Colin, he was so
angry.” 

“Who knows
about Oliver?  What the devil are you talking about Scarlett?”  He
grasped her shoulders, holding her steady as he tried to make sense of what she
was saying.

“Oliver’s
father.  He knows that Oliver is his,” she clarified.

“What are
you saying Scarlett?  You told Oliver’s father about him?”

“No, I…I
didn’t tell him.  He saw Oliver.  He saw him and now…” she shook her
head, her eyes wide and frightened.

“Who is he
Scarlett?”

She stared
at him helplessly.  Dear God, how could she tell him that it was Alec?

“Dammit
Scarlett, tell me! 
Who
is Oliver’s father?” he demanded, shaking
her slightly.

“I’m sorry
Colin.  I’m so sorry,” she cried, as tears began to slide slowly down her
cheeks.

“There,
there,” he said, trying to calm her.  “It’s going to be all right.” 
Pulling her into his arms, he held her as she trembled.  “It’s going to be
all right Scarlett, I promise.” 

When she
finally settled, Colin led her over to the sofa, holding her hand as he sat down
beside her.  Brushing the tears from her cheeks, she summoned her courage.

“Who is he
Scarlett?” he asked, this time more gently.

Scarlett
took a deep breath and met her brother’s steady regard. 
She had to
tell him, she no longer had a choice
.  “Alec.
 
Alec Weston is Oliver’s father,” she said,
her voice whisper soft.  For a moment Colin looked at her as if she’d said
the sky was falling.

“You can’t
be serious,” he choked.

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