Desired (15 page)

Tess took both of Emma’s hands in hers and drew her close, as gently and unselfconsciously as a mother might do. Owen saw Justin Brooke watching them.

“You should turn him in,” Brooke said viciously. “We could set a trap for him—”

“No!” Emma’s cry was wrenching. “You always hated him—”

“Of course I did,” Justin said. “Look what he did to you, Em. He’s ruined you!” But Lady Emma had cast herself into Tess’s arms now and was sobbing as though her heart would break. Owen watched Tess stroke the girl’s bright hair and murmur soothing words to her, and he thought of the Darent twins and all the love Tess Darent had within her to give. He felt torn between tenderness for her and the deep anger that still burned in him.

He caught sight of Justin Brooke. Brooke was also looking at Tess and what Owen saw in his eyes gave him pause, for Brooke’s expression was yearning, almost hungry. It might be the case that Tess had no
romantic interest in Brooke, but Brooke most certainly wanted her, and that, Owen thought, made him more dangerous still.

T
HE SILENCE IN THE HACKNEY
carriage was intense. Tess had never thought silence could be so loud. The atmosphere between them had changed as soon as they had stepped out of the house. She had not been naive enough to imagine that Owen would not be angry with her for what she had done that night, but she had hoped that by now the anger might be muted, knowing that she had come here only with Emma’s best interests at heart. She glanced sideways at Owen’s tense profile. There was a frown between his brows and his jaw was set hard. His disapproval, his censure, was so intimidating that she quaked. And it mattered to her. She felt as though her stomach had dropped away as she realised how much it mattered to have Owen’s good opinion.

“You are angry with me,” she said unsteadily.

The glance he gave her shredded her with its contempt. “How very perceptive of you, madam.”

“It is instructive,” Tess said. “I have never seen you angry before. I was beginning to think it was an emotion foreign to your nature.”

His eyes were dark, inward looking. “You have no idea, I assure you.”

Tess shrivelled a little. His words only served to emphasise how little she understood him. She had wondered what might move Owen to anger or passion. Now she knew. She had done it through her reckless lack of regard for his feelings and his honour.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She had to start somewhere and abasing herself was probably the best place.

“Are you?” His tone was still clipped. He slanted a look at her. Tess could read nothing from it other than that it was not particularly friendly.

“It seems that you cannot help but be careless of your reputation,” Owen said, and his tone stung her. “That is your choice. But you should not be so careless of my good name.”

“No.” Tess knitted her fingers together. She was all too aware that when Owen had agreed to wed her she had sworn to behave in future with the utmost propriety. He had taken her word. Then she had created a scandal before they were even married by leaving a ball with the man everyone assumed to be her lover. Owen’s fury was entirely justified. Her behaviour had shown nothing but disdain for his name and his honour. It pained her to see his disappointment, more so because he had trusted her and she had let him down. She had not expected to feel his hurt. Yet within a few days, Owen’s strength and generosity had already made her care and she could not escape that emotion.

“No,” she said again. There was a hollow of misery under her heart. “I know. I am truly sorry.”

She felt him shift his shoulders against the back of the seat and sensed the very slightest easing in his anger.

“Brooke is weak through and through,” Owen said, “to hide behind your skirts.” His tone held biting scorn.

Tess flinched. “You are harsh,” she said, “but I suppose there is some truth in what you say. Justin—” She felt Owen shift at the familiarity and quickly corrected herself. “Mr. Brooke was not prepared to defy his parents openly and risk being cut off without a penny, but he still loves his sister and wishes to see her.”

“Of course I am harsh,” Owen said. “This is a man who has not only failed to stand up for what he believes in but also allows an older woman to take a very public responsibility for his actions.” He turned directly towards her. “Was there no other way?” he said. Tess could feel the anger and frustration swirling in him. “No other way than to allow people to think he was your lover?”

Tess sighed. “People will think what they will,” she said. “They always have done that. I realised long ago that I could not stop them and I ceased trying to change their minds.”

“You should have tried harder,” Owen snapped, turning away. “Behaviour such as this only encourages the rumours that Lord Corwen, for one, sought to exploit.”

“I realise that,” Tess said tiredly.

“Then why go tonight, in full view of everyone?”
Owen said. “Tell me, Teresa.” He sounded exasperated. “I want to understand.”

Tess was silent for a moment. She could feel his impatience as he waited, wound tighter than a loaded spring.

“I’m sorry,” she said for a third time. “It was an error of judgement. Emma needed me and so I went to her.” She rubbed her forehead. “It was a stupid thing to do. I see that. I should have sent word to Garrick and asked him to go to help Emma instead, but I knew he would wish to capture Tom and have him arrested. Emma did not want that, so…” She shrugged hopelessly.

“So you kept Emma’s situation a secret and went yourself,” Owen said grimly. “With Brooke. The least sensible option in front of an entire ballroom of people.”

“I know.” Tess felt miserable to her soul. She had thought about it so long and hard. When Justin had first approached her with Emma’s news her heart had sunk to her slippers because she knew Emma had nowhere else to turn. She had hoped that as Owen was absent he might not hear of her apparent indiscretion or that at the least she would be able to smooth him over and make light of the matter. She glanced again at his profile, the harsh lines of his face in the skipping shadows of the carriage. She had underestimated him.

Owen was silent for a moment. “You have been a good friend to Lady Emma,” he said. “It is not the first time you have helped a young woman in trouble, is it?
I heard that when Tom Bradshaw ruined Lady Harriet Knight a few years back you also gave her your aid.”

“Oh, yes.” Tess had forgotten about Harriet, who had married a very rich elderly squire and was no doubt creating havoc in the shires.

“One might almost say,” Owen said, “that you have a compulsion to help people who are in trouble.” His tone had eased but Tess was not fooled. Owen was going somewhere with this, somewhere dangerous. A quiver of apprehension ran along her skin. This was a side of Owen she had seen that first night at the brothel, cold and relentless in pursuit of the truth. She had forgotten quite how intimidating was the ruthlessness beneath his equable exterior.

“Two acts of charity do not make a compulsion,” she said.

“Once again you are too modest,” Owen said. “I understand that you are most generous in your charitable giving. You donate to the Foundling Hospital and the Blackfriars School—”

“You forgot the Magdalen Hospital,” Tess snapped. “For penitent prostitutes. Appropriate, is it not?”

Owen laughed. “I hardly think so.” He paused. “You do admit to being a philanthropist?” Then, when she did not reply, he said, “You are unconscionably bad at answering my questions. Teresa.” Again there was exasperation in his voice. “I am not asking you to confess a thousand-guinea-a-week gambling debt. Why is it so difficult to admit to charitable giving?”

The answer was that her philanthropy was intimately linked to her political causes and in admitting one Tess knew she would inevitably betray the other. But she could feel Owen’s gaze on her through the dark and she knew he knew the truth already. There was no point in dissembling.

Her heart took a dive down into her slippers. She felt wretchedly sick. Owen was going to confront her about the Jupiter Club. Here. Now. She sensed it. Swept up in the pleasure of the time they had spent together, she had almost forgotten that it was all based on dishonesty. She felt empty and lost.

“You know, don’t you?” she said, and she was not referring to her philanthropy.

She felt him shift as he turned slightly towards her. “Know that you are Jupiter?” he said. “Yes, I do.” He took something from his pocket and laid it on the rug between them. In the faint light of the carriage lanterns Tess could see it was the cartoon of Lord Sidmouth as a balloon. Owen smoothed his palm over it.

“It’s an excellent likeness,” he said. “Lord Sidmouth was not amused. He wants your head on a platter.” He looked at her. There was a long silence. Tess knew what was coming and her stomach tumbled. The feeling of sickness at her betrayal thickened in her throat.

“Tell me,” Owen said. His tone had hardened. “When you first came to me proposing marriage, was that a deliberate ploy because you knew that as your
husband I would be unable to give evidence against you?”

Tess closed her eyes. Regret twisted inside her at the deception she had practised on him.

I did not know you then….

She wanted to cry out those words, but it was pointless to say them or to try to persuade Owen that she had come to like and respect him. He would never believe her. And what she felt for him was stronger than mere liking now. All of a sudden the tears stung her eyes.

“I…I thought… It’s true that I…” She stopped again. She could feel Owen’s gaze on her through the dark and it seemed to strip her defences to the bone.

“You thought that you would deceive me and use me as the perfect disguise to hide you from Sidmouth?” Owen said. His voice was very steady and very cold now.

“When I came to you my most pressing concern was for Corwen’s threats and Sybil’s and Julius’s futures,” Tess said. Her voice faltered. She could hear the plea in it.

“But any number of people could have helped you with that,” Owen said. “Your brothers-in-law, for example. Both Alex Grant and Garrick Farne are influential enough to force Corwen to hold his tongue.”

“I needed to do more than that,” Tess argued. “I needed to repair my own reputation, for Sybil’s sake. Only marriage could do that.”

“But you chose me specifically,” Owen said. “I won
dered about that from the start. It was because of my connection to Sidmouth.” Suddenly his hands bit into her shoulders. “Tell me the truth, Teresa,” he said. “No more lies.”

“I didn’t lie!” Tess said. Desperation coloured her tone. She gulped in a breath. “Very well, I did seek to deceive you,” she said. “But you knew it, Owen. You suspected me from the first! I know you did. You only let me play out my game because you were waiting to trap me.”

There was a loaded silence. Tess realised how much she wanted him to deny it. She knew he would not. They had both played the game. And now it seemed they had both lost; lost the burgeoning trust and the closeness and the promise that had been between them.

“Touché,”
Owen said, after a moment. “I did indeed.” His hands slid down her arms and Tess shivered. As his touch left her she felt very alone and utterly bereft. For a moment she thought she saw something in his face of regret, or disappointment, but as the shadows moved she saw only the coldness in his eyes and the harsh line of his jaw.

“The Jupiter Club is disbanded,” she said. “We meet no more.” Her heart felt sore and bruised now that the truth was exposed between them. It made their relationship feel so hollow and empty when it could have been so much more. “If you could be generous enough not to pursue the other members,” she said stiffly, “I give my word that after our betrothal is broken I will not
engage in further reformist activity—” She stopped as Owen put his hand on her wrist. His touch seared her like a flame, silencing her completely.

“My dear Lady Darent,” he said, and all the smoothness was back in his voice, “I do not think you quite understand. Our engagement is not at an end. You are still going to marry me. You have even less choice than you had before.”

O
WEN WATCHED WITH AMUSEMENT
as Tess struggled to assimilate his words. In the skipping darkness he could see the play of various emotions across her face: shock, puzzlement and a certain icy hauteur that suggested she disliked very much being dictated to. That, Owen thought, was too bad. He had had a difficult evening and he was in no mood to be chivalrous anymore. Tess was completely in his power now and that was where she would stay. He shifted, turning so that one shoulder was against the side of the carriage and he could see her face more easily.

“There are things you do not know,” he said. “Specifically, Mr. Brooke, your political protégé.” He allowed his contempt of Brooke to colour his tone. “He is in discussion with Lord Sidmouth to join the government. He blows with the wind. He will never be the leader that you wish, the leader the radical cause needs.”

He saw Tess’s face blanch in the lamplight, leaving it pale and drawn. “You must be mistaken,” she whispered. Her shock was too vivid to be feigned. Owen felt
a faint easing of the tension within him. It seemed she had never known of Brooke’s betrayal; her allegiance to the reformers had at least always been true even if he still had to live with the bitterness of knowing that she had chosen him only to use him.

“I’m afraid I am not mistaken,” Owen said. “I had it from Sidmouth himself. Brooke is ambitious. He will sacrifice anything for political power. Including you.”

He saw Tess’s eyes narrow. “I do not understand,” she said. A little shudder racked her.

“I think you do,” Owen said grimly. “Sidmouth wants to arrest Jupiter. Brooke knows who you are—”

He heard her give a gasp of shock. “Justin would never betray me,” she said, but there was an undertone of uncertainty in her voice as though she was already afraid of the possibility.

“I hope you are right,” Owen said, “but I would not lay any money on it.” He shifted. “So you see how vulnerable you are. If you do not wed me you will be utterly unprotected.”

Tess was silent for a very long time. “You are very generous not to withdraw your offer of marriage to me,” she said, at length. Her tone was as cool and unemotional as his now.

“I have my reasons,” Owen said. His reasons were simple. He still wanted Teresa Darent. He was angry with her and he felt betrayed by her, but he still wanted her in his bed.

Her gaze on him was unreadable. “I shall have a
great deal more money now that it will not be going to support the radical cause,” she said ironically.

“And I shall have a great deal less,” Owen said, “since I no longer work for Lord Sidmouth.”

Her eyes opened wide. “You resigned? But why—”

“Give me credit for some principles,” Owen said shortly. “I cannot knowingly wed a woman I know is a criminal whilst working for the man who seeks to arrest her.”

He heard her breath catch to hear herself described in such brutal terms. “I suppose not,” she said. “Well, then…” Her tone was dry. “You may take my money as recompense.”