Scarcely heeding his words, Laura noted the guarded shadows in his dark eyes and the hard resolve in his clenched jaw. The secretive quality to his expression indicated something that went beyond mere concern for her health.
She felt suddenly, horribly certain that he
did
know more than he was letting on. And whatever it was, he had no intention of sharing it with her.
“I won’t be coddled, Alex. I’m staying right here.” She met his gaze without flinching. “Now, pray close the door. I believe it’s high time that you told me the truth.”
Chapter 27
For once, Alex didn’t want to be alone with his wife. Nor did he wish to have a conversation on anything more serious than the fact that Laura must have skipped breakfast and needed to eat in order to ward off another dizzy spell. Nothing could have alarmed him more than walking into the house to encounter Haversham shouting for the footman to bring smelling salts.
Except this.
A bone-deep dread permeated Alex. No longer did Laura’s beautiful face show the softness of love. She had reverted to the coolness and suspicion that he hadn’t seen in her since her return to London. It had taken him weeks to win back her trust and to earn her love. Since then, their marriage had been nothing short of perfection. And now Haversham had destroyed everything with one careless statement.
Damn the man, Alex had intended to be present during the interview. He had planned to prevent the exposure of any skeletons from the past. Having found no evidence to support her theory about Martin Falkner’s murder, Alex had hoped to use the opportunity to convince Laura to give up on her quest to clear her father’s name.
There was no chance of that now, judging by the determination on her beautiful features. In a matter of moments, she’d guess the rest. And there wasn’t anything Alex could do but try to blunt the damage.
Going to the door, he saw the footman hurrying from the back of the house. The servant handed him a small corked bottle of hartshorn. “Shall I send for the physician, my lord?”
Laura would protest. But Alex wouldn’t feel at ease until she’d been examined. “Yes, please do.”
He closed the door, then set the bottle down in case it was needed. The basket on the table gave off the cloying scent of cut roses. Laura must have been outside in the garden when Haversham had arrived.
If only she’d stayed there.
Steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation, Alex drew a chair close to hers and sat down, reaching out to gather her hands in his. Tawny-gold wisps had escaped her upswept hair to frame her face. She looked delicate as always, her skin translucent, her eyes a deep and somber blue. A rush of tenderness choked him. He wanted to pull her into his lap and kiss her until she forgot all else but the joy they’d found in each other’s arms.
“I don’t like seeing you so distressed, darling,” he began. “It might be better if we—”
She pulled her fingers free. “Do
not
attempt to sway me from my purpose. And you’ll be honest with me for once. There’ll be no more secrets between us. Do you know if my father had an affair with the Duchess of Knowles?”
Clenching his teeth, he glanced down at the carpet. Leave it to Laura to be blunt. With effort he forced himself to meet her gaze. “Please try to understand, my godmother is a very private woman. I’m not at liberty to discuss her personal life.”
“If
my father
was involved in her personal life, then you most certainly can! Now, answer me. It’s a simple
yes or no
question.”
“I can’t answer you,” he growled. “I promised never to speak of this matter. I gave her my word as a gentleman.”
Desolation etching her face, Laura slowly shook her head. “Dear God,” she whispered, “then it must be true. Otherwise you’d never have made such a vow. Papa
did
have a relationship with her—and you’ve been hiding it from me all this time.”
Unable to bear Laura’s censure, Alex shot up from his chair and paced to the fireplace. He propped his elbow on the mantel in a casual stance designed to conceal his inner turmoil. “Believe what you will.”
She released her breath in a shaky sigh. After a moment she asked in a low tone, “How long did this affair last?”
He set his jaw. Didn’t she understand that a gentleman’s word was binding? If he broke it, he had no honor left. And yet … this was Laura, his wife, the one woman he couldn’t bear to deceive.
She leaned forward, her fingers clenched into fists and her gaze intent on him. “For pity’s sake, Alex, tell me! This is my father we’re speaking of.” When he didn’t reply, she rose to her feet and gave him a censorious stare. “If you won’t talk, then I’ll have to call on Her Grace and ask my questions of her.”
As Laura turned to go, Alex sprang forward and caught her arm. Devil take his principles. He was done protecting his godmother’s secrets. The sowing of secrets had reaped him only this bitter harvest.
“All right, then,” he said roughly. “If you must know, your father
did
have a liaison with the duchess a few weeks before the robbery. To my understanding, the relationship was brief. Your father ended it, and Her Grace remains convinced that his true purpose was to discover the location of the strongbox in her bedchamber.”
Laura uttered a small sound of distress. She briefly closed her eyes before looking at him again. “Did you know about this affair ten years ago?”
Alex wanted badly to deny it. But those bleak blue eyes demanded the truth. “Yes,” he confessed. “I did.”
She stood very still, her arms crossed beneath her bosom as if to protect herself from pain. “I see. And what of the other secret you kept from me?”
His mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
“Ten years ago, your courtship of me was merely a pretense. The duchess must have recruited you to spy on Papa. You sought me out as a means to investigate him.”
Put that way, his actions sounded sordid. But back then, he had been driven by a keen resolve to see justice done. He had felt it his duty to assist the duchess in recovering what had been stolen from her.
No matter whom he deceived in the process.
Desperate to atone for hurting Laura, he laid his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, I admit that it did start out that way. I felt an obligation to help my godmother. But I quickly came to realize how special you were to me, how very much I wanted you in my life. I swear, my attentions toward you were sincere—”
“No! You
tricked
me in order to gain access to my house.” Her manner frosty, Laura wrenched herself away from him and retreated a few steps. “You told me that you were looking for pen and paper in Papa’s desk when you stumbled upon the stolen earrings. But that, too, was a lie. You were
deliberately
searching for the Blue Moon diamond. You wanted to prove that Papa was a thief. How triumphant you must have felt when you finally found the evidence to convict him.”
Her words sliced like razors into Alex. He
had
been poking through Martin Falkner’s desk on a mission. But she was wrong to think he’d felt victorious. Upon discovering the diamond earrings, he had been overcome by dread. Because he’d feared—rightfully so—that it would shatter Laura’s regard for him.
Now the revulsion on her face made his chest constrict. He felt wild at the prospect of losing her again. Only last night, she had gazed at him with infinite tenderness in her eyes. She had whispered words of love … a love that he craved as much as he needed air to breathe.
He stepped toward her. “Darling, I swear that I never set out to hurt you—”
“No.” She cut him off with a slash of her hand. “I’ve heard enough of your excuses. You’ve always believed Papa was guilty—you
still
believe it.”
Alex hardly knew what to say. He’d pored over the police report. He’d spoken to the sergeant in charge of the case. He’d tracked down several servants formerly employed in the Falkner household and questioned them again, but to no avail.
He spread his hands wide. “For your sake, I’d very much like to think your father is innocent, but then who
is
the culprit? There isn’t a shred of evidence that Haversham had anything to do with it.”
“The man hated Papa. He has every reason to lie. Can’t you see that?”
“The courts will demand proof. Besides, Haversham has never been involved with the duchess. He’s never been in her bedchamber.”
Laura paced back and forth in front of the chaise. “Then perhaps he bribed Her Grace’s maid. Or another servant. Oh, I don’t know how he accomplished the robbery! But I
do
know that Evelyn could have helped him. She had the opportunity to place the earrings in Papa’s desk on the day before you found them.”
“What? You never told me that.”
“She came to call on me early, before normal visiting hours. Since I was still dressing upstairs, she had ample time to hide them.”
Alex frowned. He had no illusions about Evelyn’s character. She could be crafty and grasping—yet such an act sounded too vile even for her. “If you like, I’ll speak to her about it.”
“Don’t bother yourself,” Laura said scathingly. “You’ve never really wanted to help me, anyway. I’ve been on my own in this investigation ever since Constable Pangborn chased me through the slums.”
Nothing could have startled Alex more. “Chased you—? When?”
“Upon my arrival in London, I went to the police to find out what had happened to Papa. The constable escorted me to the cemetery where my father was buried.” She rubbed her arms as if from a sudden chill. “He made me uneasy, so I ran from him. That was the same day that I ended up on Regent Street and met Lady Milford.”
The news jabbed into Alex. He’d intended to interview the officer who had found her father lying in an alley near Covent Garden. But on the day he’d gone to the police station, the man had been off duty. Alex hadn’t thought it important enough to return.
Yet now he did. “What exactly did he do to make you uneasy?”
“I just had a peculiar feeling that he was aware of my true identity. That he knew my father was not a random victim named Martin Brown. I thought perhaps Pangborn had been bribed by Lord Haversham to watch for my arrival in London. And then…”
“Then?”
“A few weeks ago, I thought I saw him standing across the street, watching Copley House. But he vanished, and I presumed it was merely my imagination.”
Alex sought a rational explanation. But the constable’s behavior alarmed him. “Why did you not tell me this sooner?” he demanded.
Laura gave him a cool stare. “Perhaps because I’ve never quite believed that you
wanted
to clear Papa’s name. I’ve always wondered if you were merely placating me. And now I’m certain of it.” Her voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Besides, how could you possibly have my best interests at heart? You didn’t marry me for love. For you, it was only lust.”
A knot throttled his throat. He could only stare in silence as she turned and walked out of the library, her slim hips swaying beneath the blue gown. He had feared this day would come. In confessing his unforgivable lie, he had destroyed her trust in him.
Then the memory of her dizzy spell spurred him to the doorway.
Laura was almost to the top of the grand staircase. She looked perfectly well, and he checked the urge to go after her. What could he say to her, anyway? That she was wrong? That he did indeed have deep feelings for her, feelings he’d been too gutless to admit aloud? She’d never believe him now.
Women are vain, selfish creatures who will stab a man in the heart.
No, his father had been wrong—dead wrong. Alex had been the one to stab Laura in the heart. Because of his reticence and his deceit, he had lost her. Likely forever this time.
As she vanished from sight, he took off at a fierce stride toward the back of the house and to the stables. He needed an outlet for his black emotions, or he would go mad. He’d track down that bloody constable. He’d find out why the bastard had chased her. And if the man refused to talk, then by God, Alex would choke the truth out of him.
* * *
Laura awakened to the pearly light of dawn and the twittering of birds out in the garden. Clinging to the mists of slumber, she reached out for her husband. But instead of his warm, solid form, her hand met only the cool linens.
She opened her eyes. His side of the bed was empty, the plumped feather pillow showing no sign of having been slept upon. She had a vague recollection of being dreadfully weary and retiring early. Why had Alex never come to her?
Then the events of the previous day washed over her in a sickening wave. Their quarrel over Lord Haversham. The secret that Alex had hidden from her, that Papa had had an affair with the Duchess of Knowles. Even more devastating was the dreadful realization that Alex had used her all those years ago. His wooing of her had been calculated to give him the opportunity to investigate Papa.
No wonder Alex had discouraged her attempts to clear her father’s name. He’d known she might uncover his treachery.
On top of that, a very different sort of revelation had shaken her world. Before she’d even had the chance to absorb the pain of her husband’s duplicity, the doctor had arrived to examine her. Under his questioning, she’d realized that her courses were a week overdue. The kindly, middle-aged man had assured her that an occasional episode of dizziness was perfectly normal for a woman in her delicate condition.
She was with child.
Lying alone in her bed now, Laura placed her hand over her flat abdomen. A bittersweet happiness brought a tremulous smile to her lips. A baby! It was still too amazing to fathom. She hadn’t seen Alex to tell him the news. Would he be thrilled at starting a family with her?
No, she mustn’t put a gloss on his actions anymore. He cared only about having an heir. After all, that was why he’d married her.
That—and lust.
She’d been naive to imagine that the tenderness of his lovemaking indicated a deep attachment to her. Alex had never spoken of love. If he was cold-natured enough to charm a young debutante in order to search her father’s house, then how could she expect that he had changed now?