Love's Promise (19 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Holt

Tags: #Romance, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Love's Promise
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“I never said he was here,” he arrogantly stated. “You just presumed he was.”

“Which makes your behavior toward me even more disgraceful. You pushed forward to ruin me, but the negotiated compensation was a visit with Thomas, and you didn’t intend to pay it. So I won’t be your mistress. Not for a year. Not for a day. It’s wrong, and I know better.”

“But I want to take care of you, Fanny!”

“I don’t need you to. I’m a hard worker, and I’m honest. I’ll find a job.”

“But I’m offering you a home, and servants of your own, and an easier life! You don’t have to fend for yourself.”

“I don’t mind. I never have. I haven’t had much luck lately, and I’ve had some set-backs, but I’ll overcome them.”

“Last night,” he continued, “I was horrid to you.”

She shrugged, but didn’t respond.

“The act of making love can be wonderful,” he asserted.

“I’m sure you’re correct, but although I’m now a fallen women”—he winced at the description—“I’m not a loose one, and I won’t pretend to be.”

“You’re not
fallen
,” he tried to claim, “and you’re not loose.”

“My father was a vicar, and I loved him very much. If he could see me now, he would be so ashamed.”

She glanced away, a surge of tears flooding her eyes. The humiliation, terror, and heartbreak of the past few years bubbled up until she felt as if she was choking on all that had been lost. Her parents. Her nephew. Her sister. Her home. Her reputation.

Sometimes, she pondered what reason there was to keep on. If she suddenly dropped dead, who would miss her?

“I never met your father,” he said, “but he could never be ashamed of you. Don’t talk like that.”

He reached for her hand, and he held it in his own, rubbing it, chafing it to warm her cold skin. She was chilled to the bone and would like naught more than to take a hot bath, to crawl into a comfortable nightgown and sleep for a week.

She was curious as to what would happen next. He probably assumed he’d wear her down, that he’d lure her to his bed, but she would never relent. She knew what she wanted—and what she
didn’t
want.

She peered up at him. His eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and it occurred to her that he had been genuinely alarmed when she fled. He ought to have said
good riddance
, but instead, he’d chased her down and brought her back so that he’d know she was safe.

His actions made no sense, unless he was sincerely fond of her. Could it be? Could his affection be real?

When he’d taken Thomas, she’d discounted his motives in initially befriending her, but in light of his recent conduct, she was no longer sure of anything.

“When we first arrived,” she told him, “you said I was your guest.”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I can’t earn my bed and board the way you were hoping, so now what?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I have to proceed to London,” she declared. “At the earliest opportunity.”

He growled with frustration. “Why?”

“I have to locate my sister.”

“Your sister!” He threw up his hands. “Forget about her, Fanny. She’s despicable.”

“My parents asked me to watch over her, and I swore that I would. I’m anxious about her situation. I have to know that she’s all right.”

“She is.”

“I need to be certain.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “I have her address. Would you be content with writing her a letter?”

“Yes, if you promise you’ll mail it.”

“I promise.”

She scoffed. “As if I’d believe you.”

“I’ll have it delivered!”

At hearing her skepticism, he appeared abashed, so maybe he really would follow through, but she couldn’t guess how he’d behave.

”And I won’t stop trying to find Thomas—no matter how determined you are to keep him from me. It’s cruel.”

He glared at her, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“I want to see him, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“That’s why you sneaked off, isn’t it? You were going to London to look for him.”

“Yes, and I’ll go again as soon as I can get there without you suspecting.”

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the arm. His mind was whirring, and she could sense that he was weighing various remarks. Was he devising a new way to coerce her? To confuse her? To placate her?

“Would you like it if Thomas came here?” he ultimately said. “If I brought him to you, would you stay put?”

At the prospect, her pulse raced. “For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, I would like it if he came. I would like it if I could be with him.”

“I’ll consider it, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You will remain here with him. You won’t leave yourself, and you won’t leave with him. Swear it to me, or I won’t do it.”

“Yes, I swear. I’ll remain here, and I won’t abscond with him.”

It was an easy pledge to make. Whether she’d keep it was another story. Once in her life, she’d been an honest person, but she was learning Henley’s bad habits. If Thomas had been ill-used, she would break her vow and be gone with him in an instant.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll send for him immediately.”

“Thank you.”

“It will take several days.”

She studied him, struggling to discern if he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t decide. Thomas would either arrive shortly or he wouldn’t. At least now, with her having more experience in dealing with Henley, she wouldn’t let him raise her expectations.

She would be cautious; she would wait and see, and if Thomas failed to appear, she wouldn’t be crushed.

“Why would you do this?” she asked. “Why would you be kind to me?”

“I want you to be happy.” He shrugged, seeming perplexed by the admission.

“Why would you care one way or the other?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

She chuckled, but wearily. “You’re mad.”

“Very likely,” he concurred. He smiled, giving her a glimpse of the charm he’d once wielded against her so successfully. “You don’t need to be so tough.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve been alone a long time.”

“But you don’t need to handle everything by yourself. You could lean on me a bit. It wouldn’t kill you.”

She wished she could depend on him, but too much had happened and none of it good.

Still, he’d offered her a temporary refuge, and she would graciously accept it. For the moment, she was out of options and too worn down to keep fighting. She would wait for Thomas, and his condition would determine what her next step would be.

“You look exhausted,” he mentioned.

“I am.”

He stood. “I’m ordering you a bath.”

She’d endured months of deprivation and distress, and she wasn’t fully recovered from her ordeals. The smallest amount of taxing activity fatigued her. A bath sounded heavenly.

“I’d like that.”

“Then I want you to get yourself to bed and sleep until noon.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be back in the afternoon to check on you.” He placed his hand on the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said in response.

“Yes, tomorrow.”

He bent down and—as if he had every right—he kissed her, then he left.

Fanny sat in the quiet, her fingers pressed to her lips, tasting him on her mouth, and wondering why she hadn’t stopped him or turned away.

“Where are they?”

Fanny went to the window to stare down the road.

“They’re traveling as fast as they can,” Michael replied.

“Why can’t that blasted coach sprout wings and fly?”

At her impatience, he chuckled, marveling at the change two weeks had wrought. She was recuperated, fed, and comfortable.

And now, as Michael had promised, Thomas was about to join her.

He’d meant to do as the Duke and the doctors had decreed and never permit Fanny to see Thomas again, but somewhere along the way, their suggestions had gotten all jumbled until he wasn’t certain what was best.

He wanted to make Fanny happy. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

It seemed a minor concession to the let the boy live with her. In the hours Michael had passed with Thomas, when he’d first moved to London, he had never inquired after his mother, but he’d talked of Fanny incessantly. When Thomas missed her so desperately, Michael didn’t understand how the so-called
experts
could be correct in their advice to keep them separated.

“I think I hear the carriage,” Fanny said, craning to see. “I think they’re coming.”

She squealed with delight and ran out to the yard. He followed and noted the coach lumbering toward them, a second vehicle behind it. Thomas had his own entourage: a nurse, a nanny, a tutor, and several others who’d been specifically selected to serve him.

Michael had had Thomas ensconced at Wainwright Manor, the estate John had bequeathed to him, but even though Thomas was flanked by grown-ups who were doing a good job of tending him, he’d been very lonely.

He was too courteous to complain, but his blatant despondency over Fanny forced Michael to realize that he didn’t know very much about children.

He had no clue as to what they needed to thrive, and he’d tried to formulate a life for Thomas based on his own childhood—which he had to admit had been fairly miserable. He’d been surrounded by adults, too, but not his parents who’d been either too busy or too detached to care for him themselves.

Michael had simply wanted Thomas to be cheerful and content with his new environment and status. He’d instituted plans with those purposes in mind, but it was clear that he’d made many wrong decisions, and he was actually relieved that Fanny had spurred him to initiate changes.

He tucked her arm into his, the two of them standing together, waiting for the little lord of the manor to arrive. Slowly, Michael was rebuilding her trust and restoring the friendship he’d squandered, and in the process, something exquisite and fine was being established between them.

“Do you see him?” She was up on tiptoe, peeking in the carriage window.

“Hold on, hold on,” Michael said, laughing.

The lead coach rattled to a halt, and it took the footmen forever to lower the step, to fuss with the door. Finally—finally!—it was opened and Thomas appeared.

“Aunt Fanny! Aunt Fanny!”

He whooped with joy and leapt down, and he barreled into her, almost knocking her down.

Fanny fell to her knees, hugging him so tightly that Michael didn’t know how they could breathe. On witnessing their obvious elation at being reunited, he felt petty and mean-spirited for having kept them apart.

“Oh, look at you! Look at you!” Fanny murmured the phrase over and over, and she was stroking her hands up and down his back, touching him everywhere as if ensuring that he was real and not an apparition.

“I’ve been gone a very long time,” Thomas pointed out.

“Yes you have.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Every second of every day. Where have you been?”

“At Wainwright Manor,” he confessed. “It’s a grand house, and it’s my very own.”

“It’s yours?”

“Uncle Michael said so.” Thomas glanced up at Michael. “Hello, sir.”

As opposed to Thomas’s vivacious outpouring with Fanny, toward Michael, he was very reserved.

“Hello, Thomas. I’m so glad you could join us.”

“Aren’t I correct?” Thomas asked Michael. “Isn’t it my very own house?”

“Yes, it is.”

Thomas peered at Fanny again. “I want you to come and live with me. It’s very pretty there, and you wouldn’t have to work so hard as you did before. There’s plenty of food, and you can have your own bedchamber and everything.”

“I can? My goodness.”

“I’m rich, too, and I could buy you new dresses and whatever else you need. Will you live with me? I’ve been hoping you would.”

“We’ll talk about it.” Fanny stood, her eyes not meeting Michael’s.

He still hadn’t told her about Thomas’s inheritance, and he wasn’t certain why. Now, with the information coming from Thomas, rather than himself, it would seem like a deception, and Michael would have some tricky explaining to do.

Fanny and Thomas walked away as if they’d forgotten Michael’s existence. They entered the house, Thomas chattering away.

“Uncle Michael bought me a pony,” he was saying.

“A pony! Aren’t you lucky!”

“But just for a little while, because I’m almost big enough for a horse. And I have my very own riding master, and he is teaching me to...”

As they moved inside, his merry voice faded, and Michael dawdled in the yard, observing the horde debarking from the carriages, their piles and piles of luggage being unloaded.

The nurse was as dour as ever, but the other women were smiling, wiping away furtive tears that had been shed during the emotional reunion between Fanny and Thomas. Michael himself had quite a lump in his throat. He hadn’t been prepared for such raw sentiment, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

He hated how Fanny and Thomas had sauntered off without him. He wanted to be included, wanted to create a trio, rather than a duo, but he couldn’t figure out how to force himself into the middle of their bond. Instead, he focused on the hectic moment, on the new arrivals and the space they would require.

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