Jo Goodman (59 page)

"I never knew," Mercedes said, shaking her head.

"It was a long time ago," the earl said. "You were a child yourself and Marcus never remarked on his origins, not when he was so anxious that they be forgotten." He reached for his drink and sipped it when his voice became hoarse. Recovering, he continued. "In a way Marcus was at the source of the rift between John and myself. John was a bright one, full of promise and possessed of an exceptional character. I had high hopes for his accomplishments in the political arena. Yet he also had a mind of his own in matters of the heart, and he made a bad marriage. At least what I believed was a bad marriage. The woman he fell in love with had no title or dowry or family to speak of. She was an actress, of all things. The idea of them marrying was ludicrous to me, and I was vocal in my displeasure. I had also had an affair with an actress, I told him. But I had had the good sense not to marry her."

The earl's laughter was self-mocking and bitter. "You can't imagine how he looked at me then. Even in those days I carried a cane. More of an affectation than a necessity. I hit him with it. Not once, but half a dozen times. He stood there, stoic, unyielding, and he took it, and he would have kept on taking it if I hadn't broken it across his shoulder. You may think he would have walked out of my life that day, but he didn't. He believed I would come to my senses. Can you imagine? My son insisting I was the one who needed to see reason. He asked me to consider seeing Marcus and recognizing him as my son. I wouldn't hear of it. I had met my obligations, providing for Marcus and his mother for years without objection. It was enough, I said. More than enough."

"So he left," Colin said. He felt Mercedes slip her hand into his. "Because he would not be moved from his course. He loved her, you know. Emily. That was her name. She supported him in the early years of their marriage with her acting. I don't remember those days. She had given it up when he found a position as a clerk in a law office."

The earl showed no surprise that Colin had come upon the truth. "You have the look of her. You don't take after John at all."

Colin said nothing.

"Except, perhaps, your bloody silence. My John could do that. And the way you're looking at me now. I haven't the strength to take a cane to you."

"I wouldn't let you."

Lord Fielding's narrow smile was rueful. "No, I don't suppose you would. You're harder than he was. I can see that. But then you've had to be, haven't you?" He lifted the documents a fraction and let them fall again. "When my son left me he made a thorough job of disappearing. He changed his name and moved away from London. I was too proud to hunt him down then, and in the end I left it to too late." His uneven sigh was more of a sob caught in his throat. "It was your mother who wrote to inform me of the birth of each of my grandchildren. There were no names, no descriptions, and little narrative, and yet I committed every one of those missives to memory. I prayed for another grandson only that I might hear from her again.

"Her last letter arrived unexpectedly. I knew she could not have given birth. It was too soon since the last and I trembled at the opening of it, afraid it was news about John this time."

Colin guessed the content of his mother's letter. "She told you we were coming to see you."

The earl nodded. "Yes. Just like that. Without invitation or any thought that I might not want you there, she made her announcement."

"It still rankles a bit," Colin said.

Lord Fielding snorted. "Yes. Yes, it does. Damnable thing, pride. I can tell you, I swallowed it hard that day. I had everything made in readiness for my prodigal son." His voice lowered as his shoulders slumped. "He never arrived. None of you did."

Silence stretched between them. The pressure of Mercedes's hand in Colin's increased. She knew he was remembering that day. She was recalling her uncle's part in it.

The earl spoke again. "It's all here," he said, referring to the documents. "Willoughby kept a record of all the contacts he made. I set him on the task of finding my son when no one came to Rosefield. I had no thought then that he was already dead. I only supposed that he had changed his mind about reconciling... or that Emily had changed hers. It was months before Willoughby made the connection to the ill-fated family on the road from London. It was the name that finally got his attention. Thorne."

When the earl smiled this time it held a certain fondness. "That would have been so like my John. Rosefield's thorn. A thorn in my side. I used to say that to him. I suppose he took it to heart."

Fielding leaned forward and handed the ribbon-bound papers to Colin. "Take them," he said. "You'll read for yourself the lengths that Willoughby went to find you. He arrived at Cunnington's only weeks after you had left. They were not so helpful there."

There was only one thing Colin wanted to know. "My brothers?"

The earl shook his head. "There was so little to go on. Willoughby made it the end of his life's work, but this is what he had to show for it. Forgive me, but I stopped trying after that. I had no stomach for it any longer... no heart."

Colin said nothing but he understood. His fingers tightened on the documents.

Mercedes watched Colin's hands. She knew he had been hopeful. She had felt it herself. "You say Marcus had these papers in his possession?"

"That's right," the earl said.

"Then he knew who Colin was," she said.

"I believe so. He denied it when I confronted him, but that has always been his way. I believe he encouraged Weybourne to make a wager with Captain Thorne to set forces moving on a collision course. It would have amused him. Marcus never believed there was anything outside his manipulative talents. It certainly seems he encouraged Weybourne to challenge your husband. It was more than the Park that was at stake, but my estate, as well."

The Earl of Rosefield's solemn eyes moved from Mercedes to Colin. "It has yet to be said plainly, Captain Thorne, but you are now Viscount Fielding and heir to all that I own."

* * *

"You're awake," Mercedes said softly. She was glad she had not drawn the drapes. Moonlight edged Colin 's handsome profile. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. When she lightly touched his chest he uncradled his head and slipped one arm under her shoulders. Mercedes turned more fully on her side and leaned into him. She did not think he had slept at all since they had come to bed. The earl had departed long ago but much of the intervening hours had been used to pour through the documents he left behind. It wouldn't be long before moonlight gave way to dawn. "Are you sorry you know, m'lord?"

"Only if you persist in calling me that."

She tapped his jaw with her finger. "You'll never get used to it, will you? That you earned Weybourne Park through your efforts suits you just fine, but the knowledge that it's yours by rights of entailment and inheritance doesn't sit so well."

"I'll never be as English as my birthright suggests," he said.

"I'm coming to appreciate that, and I find I can accept it."

His low growl was menacing but his kiss was not. She unfolded in his embrace and kissed him back, long and deep and slow. It was with some reluctance that she pulled back. "What is it?" he asked.

Mercedes searched his face. "You won't ignore him," she said. "Lord Fielding, I mean. Your grandfather. You won't dismiss him from your life, will you? There's already been so much pain because of heated words and a surfeit of pride. He didn't have to come here this evening. I think he is a much changed man from the one your father knew."

"You don't have to convince me, Mercedes. I don't blame him."

"But you were so distant tonight."

"It's quite a lot to get used to. He might be my grandfather, but I don't know him."

Mercedes accepted that. All things in their own time, she thought. And this was her time. Her capacity to enjoy life had only been tapped. Mercedes opened her heart.

"Make love to me," she whispered. "Give me your child."

He touched her hair. His fingers were gentle. They slipped to her neck, then the curve of her shoulder. He slid lower in the bed so his face was close to hers. Their knees bumped. Then their noses. He smiled.

"I'll see what I can do." His huskily spoken words tickled her lips. He closed the small space of air that separated their mouths and kissed her.

Passion unfolded. Their bodies met and held. She cradled him. He stroked her. His bright hair mingled with the bittersweet chocolate of hers. His mouth opened over her breast, and the heat and dampness and pressure of his lips made her arch under him. She raised her knee and caressed his thigh and hip. Her fingertips ran the length of his spine.

His touch treasured her. She was loved with abandon, with joy, and finally with a certain selfish fierceness that made her cry out her pleasure. The sound of it tripped along his skin. Her arms came around him as tremors eased the tension in his own tautly arched body.

She lay curved against him then. In that familiar, dreamy gesture of his, Colin's hand rested lightly on her flat belly. Mercedes's fingers threaded through his and she smiled.

They slept soundly in the aftermath. Whether it was on account of their late night or their lovemaking, neither noticed the surge of sunlight that would have wakened them on other mornings. It was the commotion in the hallway that roused them. Britton and Brendan were demanding entrance.

"So it begins," Colin said.

Mercedes groaned softly and pressed her face back into the pillow. She thought he seemed indecently cheerful about it.

Colin glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece as he shrugged into his dressing gown. He tossed Mercedes her robe. "We're late," he said. "That's why they're here. Come to get us to accompany Ponty to London." He gave her a few moments to digest that then opened the door as she was scrambling to put on her robe.

Britton nearly tumbled into the room. Colin picked him up and pitched him on the bed. He skidded to a halt beside Mercedes. Brendan looked at him hopefully. "Me, too, sir?" he asked. Colin lifted the boy to his shoulder and tossed him head over bucket on the bed.

"Are there more of you in the hallway?" Mercedes asked.

"You make as much noise as any five children. One would think we're going to London."

Undaunted by her rebuke, they spoke in near unison, finishing each other's sentences. "Hurry! Ponty is afraid he'll miss his ship. He's packed and ready for us to join him. And he's making Mrs. Hennepin very nervous with the way he's eyeing her pocket watch. I think she means to inspect his bags before he leaves."

Mercedes's eyes began to lift heavenward, but they stopped when they met Colin's. He was clearly enjoying himself, and she loved him for it. "No doubt Ponty is trembling at the very idea of staying here a moment longer than he has to."

The journey to London was a high-spirited excursion. Ponty and Colin took turns regaling the boys with stories from their own youth, only a quarter of which Mercedes hoped had any foundation in truth.

It was when they made their farewells at the gangboard of the
Remington Siren
that they sobered.

"You'll ask for Miss Jonna Remington when you reach Boston this time," Colin said. It was more a question than a statement.

Ponty's blue eyes danced as he held up his right hand. "I swear," he said. "Miss Jonna Remington. And I'll tell her you recommend me."

"That will only get you in the door."

"I intend to make my own way." He sounded solemn enough. It was his grin that was incorrigible.

Mercedes hugged him. "Don't change too much, Ponty." She had to stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He held her face in his hands and looked at her for a long moment. "He's very lucky, you know," he said quietly. Smiling, he withdrew. He dangled her earrings from his fingertips. "In remembrance," he said and pocketed both. Laughing, she stepped back into Colin's loose embrace and let the twins take their leave. They hugged Ponty in turn and wished him well. They surprised Mercedes and Colin by thanking him. It was only then that Ponty looked genuinely uncomfortable. He gave the twins a look that closed their mouths and hurried up the gangboard.

Colin and Mercedes and the twins stood on the wharf until the
Siren
was out of sight. Even then they were strangely reluctant to return to the carriage.

"Why did you thank Mr. Epine?" asked Mercedes.

Britton shrugged. Brendan found something to interest him across the pier.

Mercedes knew when she was being held at bay. She touched Brendan's chin with her forefinger and lifted his eyes to hers. "Well?"

Brendan caved immediately. "He taught us some tricks," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Some tricks," Britton said more clearly than his brother. He reached in his pocket and drew out a small gold earring. "I got one of yours back. Mr. Epine didn't even suspect."

Colin tamped down his smile and tried to look as appalled as Mercedes. He knew he failed when she nudged him in the ribs. "Perhaps we should have inspected his bags after all," he whispered in her ear.

Mercedes gave him a quelling look and spoke to the twins. "Tricks? Is that what you're calling theft now?"

Brendan dropped his head sheepishly as Mercedes removed her finger. He reached in his jacket pocket and withdrew something. He opened his palm for Mercedes to see. "I have your other earring."