Gail Whitiker (13 page)

‘To my room. I have…much to think about.’ She finally turned to him, and Robert saw the torment in her eyes. ‘I appreciate your offer of silence in the matter, Lord Winthrop. It is difficult enough to know what I do, without fearing that everyone else is aware of it too.’ She hesitated again. ‘Was this why…Lady MacInnes was so anxious to see you?’

Robert thought to deny it, then realised there was little point. ‘Yes.’

‘So this
was
the predicament you were referring to in the library.’

There was nothing he could say to excuse his rather tactless use of words. ‘Forgive me. You heard emotion speaking when you walked into the room. But you must
remember that Lady MacInnes’s recounting of the story was the first
I’d
heard of it. And while I was not as devastated as you, the news still came as a considerable shock.’

Hannah nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure it did. And now that you know, is Lady MacInnes intending to publicise the information?’

‘She is not. She only told me because she felt I had a right to know, and because she had no idea whether I would hear it from anyone else. But the rest of the family genuinely believe you to be my sister in every sense of the word, Hannah. That is why I think it would be best for all concerned that we say nothing about this for the moment. No one else need know.’

‘You and I know, my lord,’ Hannah said quietly. ‘Lady MacInnes and her family know. Most likely, all of the servants here know. People always have the best of intentions when it comes to matters like this, but it is human nature to wish to make others aware of things they do not know. I doubt it will be very long before word of this gets out.’

‘I think you may be surprised to find that it does not.’

‘Then it would be a pleasurable surprise indeed.’ Hannah glanced down at her attire, fingering the black silk of her skirts. ‘I realise there is no need for me to wear full mourning for a woman I was not related to—’

‘Hannah—’

‘However, with your permission, I would like to remain in half-mourning for at least three months. If I am asked by anyone why I have gone so quickly into colours, I shall simply say that…Mama did not wish me to grieve, but to…carry on with my life.’

When the tears started, Robert didn’t stop to consider what was right. He just walked across the room and drew
Hannah into his arms. He felt her stiffen, sensing her resistance to his embrace, but within seconds felt her body go limp, as though she hadn’t the strength to object. His hand smoothed over her hair, lowering to the back of her neck, feeling her skin dewy soft and warm to his touch. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms, but as he drew her closer, Robert knew there was nothing sexual in the embrace. He simply felt a desire to protect and to offer comfort.

He held Hannah there until her sobs eased and she eventually regained control of her emotions. Only then did he gently put her away from him. But with his hands still resting on her shoulders, he looked straight into her eyes. ‘You must do as you see fit, Hannah, but you should remember that she is the only mother you will ever know, and she loved you as dearly as though you were her own. I would not expect you to forget that, nor to dishonour her memory by allowing everything that has passed between the two of you to be forgotten. But you may mourn her as you think appropriate, and I shall support you.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’

He grimaced. ‘Must you call me that? Until last night I was Robert.’

‘Until last night, we were both very different people,’ Hannah said sadly. ‘But in the cold light of day, I cannot pretend to be someone I am not.’ She closed her eyes, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘Forgive me. Perhaps when I am a little more composed, we can talk again.’

‘Of course.’ Robert let his hands fall back to his sides. ‘I am at your service.’

‘Have you seen…Lady MacInnes this morning?’

‘No. I suspect she is taking breakfast in her room.’

Hannah nodded. ‘Then, perhaps you would be so kind as to…say goodbye to her for me. I know she is planning on leaving today, and I suspect it would be better if I did not see her.’

‘I think she would like to say goodbye to
you
.’

Hannah smiled, but it held both a trace of wistfulness and pragmatism. ‘I doubt that is the case, my lord. Lady MacInnes knows, as she has all along, that I am not a blood relation. Indeed, it was my appearance on the scene that caused her to disassociate herself from a beloved family member.’

‘Yes, but she has treated you with respect and courtesy at all times,’ Robert reminded her. ‘She has not shunned you, as she might have done.’

‘No, but there was a great deal of love between your mother and her cousin, and I shall always carry the guilt for having been the one to come between them. It was love for your mother, not loyalty to me, that kept Lady MacInnes silent. Now, there is no need for her to continue with the pretence. I do not expect it of her, nor, I’m sure, will she expect it of me. Perhaps the less said by either of us, the better.’ She turned to go, and then hesitated again. ‘Have you plans for returning immediately to London?’

‘No. I think it best I stay here until we decide what we are going to do, and what is best for all concerned.’

She inclined her head. ‘You need have no fear that I will make things difficult for you, my lord.’

Robert watched a shaft of morning sunlight fall upon her head, caressing the dark, glowing curls, and burnishing them an even deeper, richer hue. He wondered if he had ever seen such a glorious colour before. ‘I never expected you would.’

With dignity apparent in every step, Hannah left the
room. She seemed to float rather than walk, her carriage erect, her head held high as she moved towards the stairs. Robert watched her in silent admiration. Truly, his mother’s lessons had been well learned. And not for the first time since he’d learned of this whole sorry mess, he found himself wishing that Lady MacInnes had kept her own counsel, and left them to their happiness, such as it was.

C
ONTRARY
to Hannah’s expectations, Lady MacInnes did seek her out before she left for Scotland. Hannah was in her room, staring down at the gardens, when she heard the knock upon her door. Expecting it to be Sarah, or perhaps Sally, she was astonished to look around and see Lady MacInnes standing in the doorway.

‘Oh!’ Hannah quickly dropped a curtsey. ‘I had not thought to see you before you left. And I certainly had not expected you to come here.’

In an instant, she knew that she had misjudged Lady MacInnes. Regret hovered in the woman’s soft brown eyes, and lingering sadness marred the tranquillity of her features. ‘Surely you did not expect me to ignore you and just leave without saying goodbye, Hannah.’

‘Yes, I think perhaps I did.’

In a rustle of skirts, Lady MacInnes walked into the room. ‘Robert told me that he spoke to you last night, and that you in turn, spoke to your mother’s maid. Why? Did you not believe what he told you?’

Overcome with embarrassment, Hannah glanced away. ‘In truth, I did not wish to. I could not understand why Rob—why Lord Winthrop would say such terrible things to me. So I went to Sally. I knew she had been with…Lady Winthrop the entire time she was in Scotland. Which meant she knew exactly what had happened, and how I came to be here.’

‘And did she tell you what you needed to know?’

Hannah caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Yes.’

Silence filled the room, and for a moment, Hannah thought Lady MacInnes would leave. But again, the older woman surprised her. ‘I know there is nothing I can say that will help ease your pain, Hannah. But I would ask you to remember one thing. Your mother—and I refer to my cousin, rather than the woman who gave you birth—loved you very much. I have seldom seen such selfless devotion, and you should be thankful for that, for true devotion is a rare gift, and one all too often overlooked.’

Hannah felt the ever-present tears begin to gather, and blinked hard, not wishing to disgrace herself in front of this woman. ‘I loved her…as much as it was possible for any daughter to love her mother, Lady MacInnes. Indeed, I believed her to
be
my mother in every sense of the word. But to discover now that she was not…that it was not she who gave me birth…’ She pressed her lips together and turned towards the window. ‘It has shaken the very foundation of my belief, both in myself, and in those around me.’ She let her gaze fall on the tranquillity of the gardens, and upon the lush paradise she would soon be leaving for ever. ‘You cannot know what it is to have your identity so thoroughly destroyed. I look at my life now through the eyes of a stranger.’

‘Yes, but you would have done that even had Charlotte lived,’ Lady MacInnes reminded her.

Hannah nodded. ‘I know. But at least I would have had her here by my side to help me deal with the truth. I would have been able to look into her eyes and see that she loved me when she told me that I was not her daughter. I would have been able to ask her all the questions I have here—’ Hannah touched her heart ‘—but am now unable to ask. All I can do now is imagine what she might have said. And it is not nearly so comforting
as hearing the words spoken aloud. For our imaginations are so often wrong when it comes to matters of the heart.’

Lady MacInnes nodded. ‘Your mother would not have disappointed you, my dear. She loved you very much, and she would have done everything she could to ease this most terrible blow. She was the most gentle, compassionate woman I have ever known.’

‘You must hate me for having come between you,’ Hannah whispered.

Lady MacInnes sighed. ‘I do not hate you, child. In truth, I barely know you. But I would be lying if I said I am not relieved that both you and Robert now know the truth. I never believed it was right for Charlotte to keep it from you. As to what you will do with the information, only you can say. After all, in the eyes of society, you
are
the Honourable Hannah Winthrop.’

‘But not in the eyes of God,’ Hannah whispered.

‘True. But God does not rule the world in which we live. If He did there would be no murders or poverty. We would harbour no feelings of ill will towards our fellow man. God lives in our hearts and in our souls. His existence in our life is reflected in the ways we conduct our relationships with others.’

‘But by pretending to be Lady Winthrop’s legitimate daughter, I
am
being deceitful in my relationships.’

‘Perhaps, but I cannot believe that even He would wish to see you suffer for the mistakes of another,’ Lady MacInnes said with a rueful smile. ‘However, I will not attempt to change your mind. Only you can say how you wish to live your life. But I would caution you to think very carefully before setting out on any course of action. For once the first stone is cast, there can be no turning back.’

Lady MacInnes departed shortly thereafter.

Hannah did not accompany her to her carriage. She had no wish for the servants to see her in such an emotional state. Deciding, however, that it was best she spend some time alone, she changed into her riding habit and sent instructions that her mare be saddled and brought around. She always thought best when in the freedom of the outdoors. Riding alone over the fields, she would be better able to think what she must do. To figure out, as Lord Winthrop had said, exactly what was best for all concerned. And in particular, what was best for her.

One thing Hannah did know. She had no intention of accepting the money Lady Winthrop had bequeathed to her. She doubted Lord Winthrop would allow such a transfer to take place regardless, but even had he encouraged her to take a portion of the money, she would not accept. And she would certainly not take the exquisite sapphire pendant and brooch, or the beautiful Winthrop emeralds with her when she left.

Because she would be leaving. That conclusion was now settled firmly in her mind. As soon as she could make suitable arrangements, she would leave Gillingdon Park and travel to London. She felt sure she could prevail upon Lord Winthrop to take her as far as that. What she would live on once she arrived was as yet undetermined, but she would deal with that in her own way, and at the appropriate time.

After all, she was not without skills. She could apply for a position as governess to a family of quality. She could speak French and Italian. She could play the pianoforte and the harp. She could certainly educate young ladies in the manners expected of those about to enter
society. But she would take nothing from
this
family.

She had no right to any more.

A short while later, Hannah pulled her mare to a halt. She had ridden non-stop, wishing to put the house as far behind her as possible, as if by doing so, she might escape the nightmare her life had suddenly become. But as she gazed out over the undulating hills, she knew she would never be able to run far enough to escape the torment.

How could she bear to leave Gillingdon Park? How could she leave this beautiful place, knowing she would never have occasion to see it again? Everything she had grown up believing in was here. And yet, on this pristine morning, it was nothing more than an illusion. Nothing she’d believed in was true any more. She had no right to live here. For all intents and purposes, she was trespassing.

No, surely that was silly,
Hannah chided herself. She might not have been born into the family, but she had certainly been brought into it.

Hannah clung to that fact. As she did to Sally’s and Lady MacInnes’s assurances that the Viscountess had loved her as deeply as though she had been her own daughter. Perhaps because somewhere deep down inside, Hannah knew it to be the truth. There had been nothing false in Lady Winthrop’s affections towards her.

But someone else had given her birth. Someone else had carried her through nine long months, and then, at the moment of her birth or shortly after, abandoned her to her fate. Was that when her mother had died? Hannah wondered. Had she abandoned her
because
she’d known she was dying? Or had she simply not wanted the encumbrance of a child? Perhaps she had been too young or too stupid to accept responsibility for what she had
done. Perhaps her father had cast her out in disgrace when he had learned of her sin.

And what of the man who had sired her? Who was he, and why had he taken no interest in her? Was he a labourer or a man of noble birth? Had he been unable to marry her mother or not desirous of doing so? If what the faded parchment note said was true, her mother was not living, but her father likely was. The question was how did she go about finding out who he was?

Was it possible to?

Did she want to?

Hannah heard the sound of another rider long before she saw him. And when she recognised the horse, she knew at once that it was Rob…Lord Winthrop, approaching.

Hannah silently cursed her absent-mindedness. Would she ever get used to calling the man by his proper title? Because in spite of what he’d said, it was the only way she
should
be addressing him.

Lord Winthrop appeared over the ridge a few minutes later. Hannah stayed where she was, safely tucked into a small grove of trees. He was riding parallel to her, so she didn’t think it likely he would have noticed her. But she watched him regardless, admiring how tall and straight he sat in the saddle. He was a superb equestrian, controlling the powerful animal as though he were no more than a pony. And having been on Balthazar’s back a few times herself, Hannah knew that was no small feat.

Suddenly, like the shifting wind, stallion and rider changed direction. Now they were coming directly towards her.

Hannah caught her breath. She had no hope of slipping away now. Any movement would immediately be spotted, and she had no wish to make Lord Winthrop
think she was avoiding him. For that reason, she waited, attempting to calm her fidgety mare as the stallion drew closer.

‘What’s this, Aphrodite?’ Hannah murmured as the mare did a funny little sidestep. ‘Never say that you are anxious for the company of the mighty Balthazar?’

The thought made her smile, a smile that was still on her lips when Lord Winthrop drew his mount to a prancing halt in front of them. ‘So this is where you’ve been hiding. You look well pleased with yourself at having dragged me to the ends of the earth to find you.’

Hannah started. ‘I did not know you were looking for me, my lord.’

‘I went up to your room to see if you might like to join me for a ride. When there was no answer, I sent for Sarah, who informed me that you had already gone out. But I hadn’t expected to find you all the way up here.’

‘No doubt you thought I would have stayed to the lower path.’

‘As a matter of fact, I did.’ Lord Winthrop’s smile flashed again, his teeth appearing very white against his lightly tanned skin. ‘The road closer to the house offers a much less challenging road than the one you have chosen.’

‘Ah, but it was not a less challenging road I wished to follow. When I need to think, I find a full out gallop far more stimulating than a sedate trot.’

‘My sentiments exactly—whoa, Balthazar!’ The stallion shied to one side, forcing Lord Winthrop to tighten his grip on the reins. He closed his gloved fingers around them and held the animal with a firm but steady grip.

‘He is not amiable when forced to remain standing, my lord,’ Hannah said. ‘Especially in the presence of a lady.’

‘Then perhaps I should allow him to run a little. If I can wind the beast, you and I may be able to enjoy some civil conversation. What do you say, shall we both take the air?’

Hannah needed no further encouragement. Pressing her heel into the mare’s side, she flicked the crop lightly against her withers and set Aphrodite to an easy canter. The mare would not be able to sustain a gallop for the same length of time as the stallion, but the fields were wide open, and even if Balthazar took his master into the distance, they would still be visible and easy to catch.

Surprisingly, however, Lord Winthrop did not attempt to pull ahead. He kept his mount to a rolling gait, not allowing him to extend himself, until in the end, the great creature was in the way of getting quite unruly. ‘Do you mind if I let him out for a bit?’ he called to her.

‘Not at all. He needs it.’

With that, Lord Winthrop gave the stallion his head and the two of them took off across the field.

Hannah held her breath. Dear heavens, they were all but flying over the grass. Lord Winthrop’s dark head was low over the black stallion’s neck, the reins held taut in his strong hands. The mighty horse’s legs flew, his powerful hooves pounding over the turf, his mane and tail flying in the wind.

Hannah shivered at the sight, but it wasn’t with fear. Watching Lord Winthrop control the great horse was exhilarating. She’d never seen any man ride like that before. Never felt as breathless in her admiration of his form and figure.

Then, suddenly, as she realised
who
she was looking at, she gasped in dismay.

Had she lost her senses?

The stallion’s energy was spent by the brief burst of speed, and Robert cantered him in small circles until Hannah eventually reached his side. He was quite confident that Balthazar would be far more content to walk sedately at the mare’s side now, and was about to suggest they ride on to the top pasture, when Hannah suddenly begged leave to return to Gillingdon Park. She seemed reluctant to meet his eyes, and not wishing to appear churlish, Robert agreed, though in truth, he was equally reluctant to bring the ride to a close. For here, well away from the house, it was as though their problems didn’t exist.

And he certainly wasn’t about to say he did not enjoy the sight of Hannah mounted on her pretty dapple-grey mare. Her beautifully tailored habit of dark blue Georgian cloth trimmed with black piping was extremely becoming. The styling was quite severe, but given Hannah’s height, it looked striking rather than mannish. A frothy white spill of lace at cuffs and neckline served to soften the appearance even more. Her riding hat, an elegant concoction with a single curling feather and a flowing black ribbon, sat at a decidedly rakish angle on her head. The colour seemed to accentuate the blue of her eyes. Eyes made even more alluring by the frivolous bit of net she had pulled down over the brim…