Love's Promise (46 page)
“And...?”
“You have no inheritance.”
Harriet gasped. “Grandfather didn’t provide for us?”
“No.”
“He swore he would. Last time I talked to him, he swore it to me.”
“Apparently”—Miss Peabody shrugged—“he forgot to make the necessary changes to the document.”
“But our Uncle Richard will be happy to—”
“I have corresponded with your uncle. He declines to cover the fees for the coming term, much less the arrears.”
“Why would he do that to us?”
“I’m not a clairvoyant, Miss Stewart. I couldn’t begin to guess.”
While she pretended lack of knowledge, Miss Peabody knew the reason. She wasn’t surprised by Richard Stewart’s decision, but it irked that
she
had to be dragged to the precipice of a conversation she was determined not to have.
For pity’s sake, Helen and Harriet were sixteen years old. Their mother had died when they were babies, and at the earliest opportunity, they’d been shipped off to Miss Peabody’s school. They’d never been invited home for Christmas or summer holidays, had never received familial visitors but for the annual trek made by their grandfather.
Surely, they understood why their relatives had always ignored them. Why their kin had forsaken them. Why should it be Miss Peabody’s job to shatter their illusions?
“Are we to go to Brookhaven then?” Helen asked. Brookhaven was the Stewart estate.
“I don’t believe so.”
“What
are
we to do?” Harriet queried. “What has our uncle instructed?”
“He has written you a letter.”
Miss Peabody had peeked at it, and she’d been disturbed by its cold tone. Though she could be ruthless herself when the situation called for it, the content was unduly harsh.
She retrieved the letter and handed it to Helen, watching silently as Helen perused it. Soon, Helen scowled, evidence that she hadn’t had a clue as to the truth.
“What does he say?” Harriet leaned toward her sister, trying to read over Helen’s shoulder.
“He says we’re not welcome at Brookhaven.”
“Not welcome?” Harriet was aghast. “But why?”
“He suggests that we travel to London and throw ourselves on the mercy of the...the...Earl of Trent?”
“Why would we do that?”
“He claims Lord Trent is our father.”
“That’s preposterous,” Harriet protested. “Our father was a gentleman farmer.”
“Uncle Richard insists not, and he maintains that it’s time for Lord Trent to support us—rather than the Stewarts.”
So
, Miss Peabody mused,
they didn’t know. No one had ever told them
.
Both girls turned to Miss Peabody, their identical gazes dismayed and perplexed. With their striking emerald eyes, and their golden blond hair—hair that was the color of ripened wheat—they were very beautiful, and purportedly, the spitting image of their aristocratic sire.
And, of course, they possessed the birthmark, just above their left wrists, that was in the shape of a figure eight. It was referred to as the
Mark of Trent
and cited as proof of paternity by his cast-off children.
Lord Trent was England’s most notorious roué, and it was impossible to count how many women he had seduced.
As a young debutante, the twins’ long-deceased mother had succumbed to his charms, and now—all these years later—her sins were coming home to roost. Helen and Harriet would bear the brunt of her folly.
“Since we can’t go to Brookhaven,” Helen said, “may we stay here?”
“No.”
“Where are we to go?”
“You should follow your uncle’s advice,” Miss Peabody responded, “and contact Lord Trent. What other option do you have?”
“Are you mad?” Harriet rudely snapped. “Can you actually expect us to tot off to London and knock on the door of a strange nobleman we’ve never met?”
“Don’t take that attitude with me, Harriet.”
“You never liked us,” Harriet charged, leaping to her feet and pointing an accusing finger. “You’re being deliberately cruel.”
“Sit down. We will discuss this calmly, or we won’t discuss it, at all.”
Harriet appeared eager to quarrel, but Helen grabbed her arm and tugged her to her seat. Harriet was hot-headed, volatile and prone to trouble. Helen was the peacemaker of the two, the pragmatic sister, the sensible sister.
“Is my uncle’s revelation true?” Helen asked. “Is Lord Trent our father?”
“It has been the rumor,” Miss Peabody said.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“It was hardly up to me to inform you.”
“No, I suppose not.”
Helen peered at her lap, thinking and pondering, while Harriet fidgeted.
“What would you recommend?” Helen ultimately inquired. “If you were in our shoes, what would you do?”
“I’d probably go to Lord Trent.”
“And if we don’t wish to? What then?”
“You might stop at the rectory and talk to the vicar. He might help you to locate a position.”
“A...a...position!” Harriet sputtered. “Doing what?”
Helen shushed her and pressed, “If we don’t want to do that either?”
“Then...I haven’t the foggiest idea what will become of you.”
“May we remain here briefly—to plan and regroup?”
“I’m afraid not. While we were chatting, your bags were packed. They’re in the front foyer. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave before the other students return from their walk. I won’t have a big fuss made over your departure.”
The callous comment set a spark to Harriet’s temper. She jumped up again. “You old witch! You’ve never—”
“That’s enough!” Miss Peabody seethed. “I’ve been more than patient, but your tenure at my school is ended. I bid you good day.”
For a moment, Helen stared and fumed, then she stood and took her sister’s hand.
“Come, Harriet, let’s go.”
“Helen, don’t let her get away with this. There must be something we can do.”
Helen glanced over, searching Miss Peabody’s gaze, finding naught but firm resolve.
“No,” Helen said, “there’s nothing we can do. Let’s go!”
Without another word, and no murmur of farewell, Helen spun and led her furious sister from the room.
Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author
CHERYL HOLT
“Best storyteller of the year...”
Romantic Times Magazine
“A master writer...”
Fallen Angel Reviews
“The Queen of Erotic Romance...”
Book Cover Reviews
“Cheryl Holt is magnificent...”
Reader to Reader Reviews
“From cover to cover, I was spellbound. Truly outstanding...”
Romance Junkies
“A classic love story with hot, fiery passion dripping from every page. There’s nothing better than curling up with a great book and this one totally qualifies.”
Fresh Fiction
“This book pulls you in and you won’t be able to put it down.”
The Romance Studio
“This is a masterpiece of storytelling. A sensual delight scattered with rose petals that are divinely arousing. Oh my, yes indeedy!"
Reader to Reader Reviews
“Bravo, Ms. Holt, for continuing to entertain us with your exceptional talent."
Coffee Time Romances
“Holt's powerful descriptive powers allow the reader to step into the story and become an active participant, surrendering to the richness and splendor of a truly outstanding love-story.”
Romantic Crush Junkies
“It is always a wonderful feeling, like comfort food, to read a favorite author, and her storytelling here is just as wonderful as in her first book. I find this to be uncommon. Ms. Holt is this type of author.”
Book Wenches
“Captivating'! A perfect read for snuggling down with your favorite blanket and a nice glass of wine at the end of the day.”
Novels Alive TV
BOOKS BY CHERYL HOLT
LOVE’S PERIL
LOVE’S PRICE
LOVE’S PROMISE
SWEET SURRENDER
MUD CREEK
MARRY ME
LOVE ME
KISS ME
SEDUCE ME
KNIGHT OF SEDUCTION
NICHOLAS
DREAMS OF DESIRE
TASTE OF TEMPTATION
PROMISE OF PLEASURE
SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL
DOUBLE FANTASY
FORBIDDEN FANTASY
SECRET FANTASY
TOO WICKED TO WED
TOO TEMPTING TO TOUCH
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
THE WEDDING NIGHT
FURTHER THAN PASSION
DEEPER THAN DESIRE
MORE THAN SEDUCTION
COMPLETE ABANDON
ABSOLUTE PLEASURE
TOTAL SURRENDER
LOVE LESSONS
MOUNTAIN DREAMS
MY TRUE LOVE
MY ONLY LOVE
MEG’S SECRET ADMIRER
WAY OF THE HEART
CHERYL HOLT
is a
New York Times
,
USA Today
, and Amazon bestselling author of over thirty novels.
She’s also a lawyer and mom, and at age forty, with two babies at home, she started a new career as a commercial fiction writer. She’d hoped to be a suspense novelist, but couldn’t sell any of her manuscripts, so she ended up taking a detour into romance where she was stunned to discover that she has a knack for writing some of the world’s greatest love stories.
Her books have been released to wide acclaim, and she has won or been nominated for many national awards. She is particularly proud to have been named “Best Storyteller of the Year” by the trade magazine
Romantic Times
BOOK Reviews.
She lives and writes in Hollywood, California, and she loves to hear from fans. Visit her website at
www.cherylholt.com
.
Table of Contents