Good Earls Don't Lie (33 page)

“I want you to leave London.”

Iain glanced up from the desk. It was well after midnight, and while he didn’t know what had inspired his mother’s fury at this hour, it didn’t surprise him. There was no sign of his sisters, and he supposed they had retired for the night.

Iain stood, his neck aching from the hours he’d spent poring over the investments and potential profits. “Of course you want me to leave. But I was here first, if you recall.”

“The house doesn’t belong to you. Nor do you have any right to behave like the earl. You aren’t the heir to Ashton. Michael was. You must depart from London so you don’t harm your sisters’ chances of finding good husbands. Go anywhere else, except Ashton. And if you dare to set foot upon my land, I will—”

“You’ll do what?” he interjected. “Have me shot for trespassing?” Anger flowed through him, roaring with the force of twenty-five years of being made to feel unworthy. He crossed the room and stood before her. “I am the only man capable of looking after Ashton. It’s my home, and the tenants trust me.”

“There
are
no tenants!” she cried out. “They’ve all left. We have nothing. Nothing, do you understand?”

She was wrong, for there were a few tenants who had stayed at Ashton. But he realized this was about her fear and loss of pride. Moira had taken his sisters to another ball tonight, and it was likely that they were ashamed of their poverty in the face of all the wealthy families. She wanted someone to blame for their misfortune, and Iain was the likely scapegoat.

He took a moment to gather command of his own temper. “I understand that you blame me for the famine and the rotting potatoes. You think that if Michael were alive and I were dead, everything would be different. But you’re wrong.” He knew that arguing with her was a mistake, one he might regret. His position was tenuous, and if she renounced him publicly, telling everyone he was not the earl, it would cause more trouble.

“You can curse me all you like,” he told her. “But the truth is, I would lay down my life to save Ashton. I’m the only man who would.”

Her posture remained ramrod straight, her hatred palpable. “Then go back, if that’s what you’re wanting. Try to save it, if you believe you can. But you’ll fail.” A sudden gleam came into her eyes, and she added, “You might as well be gone by morning, for there’s nothing left for you here. Lady Rose is not going to wed you. Her grandmother won’t allow it.”

She doesn’t want to wed a bastard like you.

Of course she wouldn’t. The broken look of shock in her eyes was still branded upon his mind. She’d been devastated to learn that he wasn’t a true earl—only a poor substitute for his brother. He’d wanted to talk to her again, but he didn’t know what to say.

A numb feeling settled in his stomach, but he faced his mother. “The decision is hers to make.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If she married you, her family would cut her off without a cent. She would grow to despise you.” His mother shook her head. “No, they will find someone else for her. It will be a swift wedding, you can be sure. Especially after the gossip you caused.”

The idea of Rose marrying any other man was unthinkable. He’d sooner disrupt the wedding and steal the bride away.

“Now that she knows you’re a bastard, she doesn’t want you,” Moira continued. “Let her go. Let her wed a man who can bring her happiness, if you truly care about her.”

He did care, more than he’d realized. But he wasn’t about to run away from Rose. He’d sent her a note this morning, asking her if they could meet and talk about what had happened.

“I cannot leave London yet.” Not only because of Rose, but also because he and Cain Sinclair had begun working together. The businessman had asked him to help interview a few Irishwomen who were talented seamstresses. They spoke Irish Gaelic, and their English was limited.

And though Sinclair could have hired any number of men to translate, it gave Iain a means of repaying the Scot for the supplies and food he was donating to Ashton.

“You don’t belong here,” Moira insisted. “You should go. Leave Ashton behind and make a new life for yourself somewhere else.”

That was what she wanted, he knew. But he refused to walk away. “I made a promise to Michael. And that promise, I’ll be keeping.” Over the past week, he’d begun gathering the supplies Sinclair had ordered. He planned to sail back to Ireland with livestock, grain, and other necessities.

“The estate isn’t truly yours. Not by birthright.”

“Why do you care?” he demanded. “If I restore it and give you, Sybil, and Colleen a place to live—why does it matter whether or not I was born from the earl? Do you really want a distant cousin to come and claim the title, someone who won’t listen to a word you say?”

“You don’t listen, either,” she pointed out. But it did seem that she was considering his argument.

Iain softened his tone and offered, “There is no reason why you could not continue living here in London. The three of you can stay as long as you want.” She seemed to think about it, and he added, “You need not return to Ashton until I have rebuilt it. There’s no cause to face bad memories.”

Moira’s face turned cold. “I suppose it’s fitting that the estate should fail. It’s been cursed ever since Aidan died.”

It was clear that she believed the superstition. And before she turned her face aside, he caught a glimpse of her tears. God help him, he hated seeing a woman cry, even one who despised him.

“I will take responsibility for Ashton,” Iain offered. “Just as I’ve done over the past year.” It was his home, the only one he’d ever known. And whether or not he was the earl, he would never stand aside and let it crumble.

Moira remained silent, but he knew better than to take that for her assent. The tension stretched between them, and he voiced another question that had troubled him. “Was it true, what you said? That my father was killed by the man who . . . attacked you?”

The color fled her face, but she nodded. “They both died that night.” She leaned against the wall, lowering her head.

Moira’s earlier words haunted him—that she’d wanted to rid herself of him before he was born. And yet, he dared to suggest another possibility. “Is there any chance at all that the earl fathered me?”

He wanted to believe that there was a grain of hope for legitimacy. But the moment he spoke the words, she was already shaking her head. “No. It wasn’t him.” She paused and continued, “Your eyes are green—not blue, like his were. And mine are brown. I have no doubt who your father was, may he rot in hell.”

There was nothing Iain could say to that, so he approached her and opened the door to the study. “Go and get some sleep.”

Moira let out a sigh, but didn’t leave yet. For a long moment, she studied him, the worry creased on her face. In her eyes, he saw the years of sorrow that had hardened her. There had been a time when he’d badly wanted her approval. But he’d come to accept that nothing would ever change. They would never be mother and son, but if his investments with Cain Sinclair paid off, he might provide for her and his sisters. And one day, there might be peace between them.

Chapter Seventeen

Rose’s nerves tightened, as she reread Iain’s note. He had asked to pay a call on her, but she preferred to go to him. After the way she’d reacted in shock at the revelation that he was illegitimate, she thought it better if she humbled herself.

She’d missed him more than she’d thought possible. And although there were a thousand reasons why they should not stay together, she needed to see him. More than that, she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close. Last night, she had hardly slept, for she’d been going over all the words she wanted to say.

There were only three that counted:
I love you.

But would it be enough? He’d already said he didn’t think she was strong enough to endure Ireland. And now that her grandmother was against a match between them, it felt as if the outside world was locking away any chances of happiness.

This morning, she had chosen a sage-green morning gown with long sleeves and a bell curve to the skirts. The color was one of her favorites, and she waited while Hattie finished tending to her hair.

A light knock sounded at the door, and her sister opened it without waiting. “Rose, oh Rose! You’ll never believe what’s happened!” Lily was almost breathless with excitement. From the joy on her face, Rose had no doubt what it was.

“Matthew has returned from India,” she guessed.

“And James, as well! I have a letter that both of them are on their way home. I found it on Mother’s dressing table, and it was from two weeks ago.” Her sister was practically dancing with excitement. “They might arrive any day now.”

The thought of her brother’s return brought about a wave of joy. Rose’s eyes filled up with tears. “Thank God.”

She stood, and Lily hugged her, smiling. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for him to come back.”

When her sister pulled away, Rose found the slender chain around Lily’s throat and pulled it gently. At the end of the chain was a small ring. “Will you marry him now?”

A smile broke over Lily’s face. “I hope so. It’s as if a lost part of me has returned. You cannot know what that’s like.”

But Lily was wrong. Rose
did
know what it was to feel empty, as if she couldn’t bear to go through each day without the man she loved. “I am happy for you. And I hope that you are very happy together.” She leaned against her sister, walking toward the door. “Mother and I are going to pay a call upon Lord Ashton today after breakfast.”

Her sister squeezed her hand. “Go to him. I am planning to pay a call upon Lady Arnsbury. I hope . . . I hope all is well with Matthew.”

“When he sees you, it will be.” She followed Lily outside the bedroom and into the hall. It took some time to descend the stairs, but she was determined to manage it alone. By the time she reached the drawing room, she was slightly out of breath.

Her mother was waiting, and there was an air of excitement about her. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Thank you for accompanying me.” Although she’d been wary of bringing Iris along, it did seem that her mother was having a good day. She might provide a buffer, in case Lady Ashton tried to interfere.

For a moment, her heart ached as she took her mother’s arm. It was like having Iris back again, and she resolved to enjoy every moment she could.

“You needn’t worry, darling. Everything will be all right now. You’ll see.” Her mother guided her outside to the waiting carriage and helped her inside.

All during the ride, Iris made bright conversation, as if she was enjoying the outing. Rose answered, though inwardly, her stomach was churning with fear. And when they reached Lord Ashton’s townhouse, her heart was beating in time to the horses’ hooves.

“You look pale,” Lady Penford said. “Are you certain you want to pay a call on him?” A furrow lined her mother’s brow, and she added, “He really ought to have come to you.”

“Not after the way I treated him,” Rose said. She wanted Iain to know that she did love him, in spite of everything. He deserved that much.

The carriage pulled to a stop, and the pair of them disembarked with the help of a footman. With every step, her pulse pounded harder. What would he say when he saw her? What if he wasn’t there?

Her mother gave her a reassuring smile as their footman knocked upon the door. They were invited inside, but it was Lady Ashton who met them. A startled look crossed her face, before it was replaced with a genuine smile. “Why, Iris. I haven’t seen you in years.”

Her mother beamed and embraced Lady Ashton. “I am so glad to see you, Moira. I believe you have met my daughter, Rose.”

At that, Lady Ashton’s smile grew strained. “I suppose you are here to see Iain.”

“Indeed we are,” Iris answered. “Would you tell him that we’ve come to call?”

“He is not here at the moment, but you are welcome to wait.” She guided them into a small sitting room. There were few furnishings and no paintings upon the walls. The sparse surroundings only emphasized the family’s financial troubles.

“Forgive me, Lady Rose,” Moira apologized, “but I feel you have been a victim in all this. My son took grievous advantage of you.”

Rose sat down, resting her gloved hands in her lap. “Lady Ashton, your son helped me learn to walk again. We became very close, and I do love him very much. Whether he is the earl or not.”

Moira’s face tightened, and she turned back to Iris. “Your daughter deserves so much more than this. I am so sorry for the scandal. Mrs. Everett was responsible for locking them in together, so I’ve learned. But nonetheless, I must caution both of you. Iain let you believe he was someone he was not. He has no inheritance to offer, nothing at all. It would be best if you walked away before making a terrible mistake.”

“Love is never a mistake,” Lady Penford said softly. “And I support whatever decision my daughters want. Just as you should support your son.”

“I cannot think of him as my son,” Lady Ashton insisted. “He never should have been born.” The hatred in her voice startled Rose, and she reached out for her mother’s hand. But Lady Penford faced the matron with serenity.

“Every child is a blessing. And if I had a man like Iain Donovan as my son, I would count myself fortunate indeed.” Iris smiled. “Now, tell me about your daughters while we wait upon him.”

“What do you want to know?” came a young woman’s voice from beyond the door. The two women entered the sitting room, and Rose recognized them as Iain’s sisters, Colleen and Sybil. Both had long dark hair, and the elder sister appeared ready to do battle.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Lady Ashton frowned at the two girls.

“Of course we were,” the young woman admitted. Her gaze narrowed upon Rose. “What exactly are your intentions toward my brother? Were you intending to cause a scandal and force him into marriage?”

“Sybil, you were not invited to this conversation,” her mother said coolly. “Both you and Colleen can return to your embroidery.”

“I loathe sewing,” Colleen muttered. Rose guessed she was near seventeen, while Sybil was a year or two older. She remembered that Iain had spoken of both of them with affection. It sounded as if they had come to defend him, and she thought it best to reassure them.

“Mrs. Everett decided to lock us in the library together,” she admitted. “It was not a choice, really.”

Colleen gaped before she collected herself. “Well. I should hope not.” She eyed Rose with a warning. “I should tell you, if you break my brother’s heart, I will rip yours from your body.”

Rose bit back a smile. “I don’t intend to break his heart.”
But he holds the power to break mine.
“I need to speak with him. Do you know when he will return?”

“I thought I saw his carriage approaching,” Sybil said. “I should think he will be here very soon.”

Lady Ashton intervened again and guided the girls back to the doorway. “Go back to your rooms, and do not interfere with matters that do not concern you.”

But Colleen would not be deterred. She studied Rose with a fierce expression and added, “Iain is a good man, no matter what our mother says.”

Only after the young women were gone did Lady Ashton return to her seat. Her composure had been shaken, but she calmed herself. Then she faced Rose and said, “You don’t deserve the life Iain would give you. And believe me when I say, you would never be a countess.”

“I never cared about a title,” Rose said.

Her mother leaned forward in her chair, and interrupted. “Moira, I realize that you are unlikely to bestow your blessing upon my daughter and your son, if they choose to marry. However, you should be aware that we have a great many friends in London. Friends who could be very helpful to your daughters, by introducing them to the right men. We are good friends with the Duchess of Worthingstone, not to mention Lady Castledon.”

Rose’s throat tightened as she realized what her mother was doing. Not threatening Lady Ashton . . . but offering her an alliance.

The countess didn’t miss the insinuation, and she paled. In the end, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I am still surprised that you are not against this match, considering how little Iain has to offer.”

“He loves my daughter,” Lady Penford countered. “And I rather think his heart is worth more than all the gold in England.”

Iain walked into his townhouse, and was nearly attacked by his sister.

“You’re back!” Colleen squealed, embracing him hard. “You’ll never guess who’s here.” Before he could get a word in, she burst out, “Lady Rose and her mother. Did you know that Lady Penford went to school with our mother? They’ve been talking for nearly an hour. And she’s promised to help introduce us to suitable men in London. Lady Penford knows
everyone.
”

The moment she spoke Rose’s name, he hurried toward the sitting room. He didn’t know what tales Moira had been filling her head with, but he saw that Colleen was right. Rose was surrounded by her mother and Lady Ashton. He recalled Lady Penford’s earlier fear of invisible wolves, and it rather seemed true at this moment.

“Lady Rose,” he said, his eyes locking upon her. God, she stole his breath away. She was wearing a green gown, and the color favored the red tints in her brown hair. When she saw him, she didn’t smile. Instead, her gaze was searching.

“Why don’t we leave them alone to talk, Moira?” Lady Penford suggested. She stood from her chair and walked over to Iain, patting his shoulder. “I’ll wish you luck, my dear. Rose, I will await you in our carriage.”

Moira said nothing but murmured a farewell and departed, leaving the door open. Iain could hardly believe his mother had obeyed Lady Penford’s wishes, but she appeared thoroughly confused.

Rose stood from her chair, and every word fled Iain’s brain when he was alone with her. He couldn’t tell her that he’d barely slept these past two nights or that he was trying to find a way to earn money for both of them. He drank in the sight of her, hoping to God that she had not given up on them.

“Rose, I—” he began.

But she cut off any words when she stumbled across the room and flung herself into his arms. He gripped her hard, so relieved to have her in his embrace. There were no words to say what was in his heart. It was all meaningless. All he could blurt out was, “I’m sorry for all this.” He buried his face in her hair. “I missed you.”

Her arms were around his neck, and she whispered, “I need you, Iain. So much more than I ever realized.”

He framed her face in his hands, and she closed her eyes, covering his hands with her own. He brushed a kiss across her lips, and she pulled him nearer, deepening the kiss. The embrace joined them together in a way that felt right. She held him close, feeling as if the broken pieces of herself had come back together again.

“God, how I love you, Rose.” He tasted the salt of her tears, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Does this mean you’re going to marry me?” he murmured.

“Yes.” She kissed him again, and he wished he had a ring to give her. “And whether you’re the Earl of Ashton or Lord of the Ashes doesn’t matter. You’re the man who stood by me and taught me to walk again. I love you.”

He reached below her hips and lifted her up, smiling at her. “I will find a way to give you the life you’ve dreamed of, Rose. Even if it means we have to live apart for a while.”

Her expression turned wary. “We are
not
living apart, Iain.”

“You’re daft if you think I’m taking you back to a place where there is no food.” Slowly, he lowered her back to stand before him. He couldn’t stop touching her, and he rubbed the small of her back.

“We will argue about it later. But I do have news that may affect my dowry. Evangeline said that her father will help us sort through our finances and set them straight. We don’t know how much money my mother gave away, but—”

At that, Iain’s smile broadened. “Actually, I did learn what she did with the rents.” He’d spent the morning with Cain Sinclair, and it was then that he’d discovered the truth. “Apparently, she didn’t give the money to an Irishman. It was a Scotsman. She gave the rents over to Sinclair a month ago, so he could invest them for her. They made a fine profit for you and your family.”

Rose shook her head and a laugh escaped her. “So I do have a dowry, after all. Not that it matters anymore.”