Stormswept (25 page)

He stepped closer, unable to contain his rage. “Do you think I didn’t see you pining for him when you thought I wasn’t watching? Every time you asked if any mail had come for you at the house, I ached inside. I happily sent
back the one letter that arrived from him. God, I hated him for having your heart.”

“And so you told me that she’d betrayed me,” Pennant bit out. “You lied to me.”

“With great pleasure, seeing the love die a little in your eyes.”

When Lettice moaned, her face full of misery, he caught himself. He’d wanted to wound her, not destroy her. Even though she’d used him, he still loved her.

He turned a pleading gaze on her. “Please understand, I wanted you so badly, and I knew he’d do anything to return unless he believed you unfaithful.” His voice grew choked. “I know
I’d
have done anything.”

“And did,” she said accusingly. “You told him horrible lies about me.”

“Because I loved you! Because I wanted you for my own.”

“And were those the only lies you told?” Pennant cut in. “You said terrible things about your sister to separate her from Vaughan, too—that she’d gotten cold feet and backed out of the marriage, then urged you to have him taken by the press.”

Devil take him! Must Pennant tell Lettice about that?

“Did you truly speak such lies?” Lettice asked.

He dared not admit to that, for Pennant would go straight to Vaughan, and Vaughan wouldn’t rest until he’d ruined the entire St. Albans family. “It was the truth.”

Lettice’s eyes widened. “Your sister would never have done such a thing.”

“This isn’t your concern, Lettice. Juliana summoned me
to the inn that night to rid herself of Vaughan, and I did so. That’s what happened.”

She turned to Pennant. “My mistress was so upset when she heard he’d been taken. Don’t believe these lies—she would never do such an awful thing! ”

Pennant stared tenderly at her. “If you say it, I believe you.”

A painful knot tightened in Darcy’s stomach. “Why? She lied to me about Edgar. She might be lying to you about this. It’s not as if she’s a complete innocent herself.”

Lettice rounded on him. “And what do you mean by that?”

“I haven’t been taking care of you and Edgar without any reward. Pennant has come here, thinking to start again where the two of you left off, but he can’t.” Darcy turned to Pennant. “She has shared my bed through six years of nights. Through six years of days, she has looked to me for help, and I’ve cared for her. You won’t erase that by whispering sweet promises in her ears.”

Pennant’s eyes blazed. “And what of your wife during that time? You only shared crumbs with Lettice. I, on the other hand, want to marry her.”

“You can’t have her. She’s mine.”

“She may have given you a great deal,” Pennant said, “but she never gave you her heart.”

“You don’t know that! ”

Lettice placed her hand on Pennant’s arm. “I can’t bear this. You must leave and let me speak to Darcy alone. I need time to set things right.”

Pennant frowned. “You said you’d be ready with your answer tonight.”

“You’ve been here before?” Darcy roared, but the two of them ignored him.

“I’ll be ready in the morning, I promise,” she told Pennant. “Please, Morgan. Do as I ask.”

The Welshman hesitated, then he stalked for the door, stopping in front of Darcy. “If you harm her, Northcliffe—”

“I wouldn’t hurt her if my life depended on it.”

“Ah, but you did once—by lying about her to me. But if you try to turn her against me again, I’ll choke the breath from you. Do you hear?”

“Get out,” Darcy hissed. “Get out of my house! ”

Pennant glanced at Lettice. “I’ll be back for you and the boy tomorrow.”

“You can’t have her! ” Darcy cried as Pennant left, slamming the door behind him. He whirled on Lettice. “You’re not taking up with him again, are you? Surely these years between us have meant
something
.”

Her face was pale in the firelight. “You know they meant a great deal.”

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought Edgar was my son, and he isn’t.” He stared at her. “But I meant it when I said it doesn’t matter. No matter how you’ve lied to me, I want you and Edgar. Don’t let Pennant destroy what it took us years to build.”

“You speak as if we’re married, but Morgan’s right. You have a wife.”

“My wife detests me, as you well know.” When she turned away, he caught her by the arm. “She hasn’t once come to my
bed unless I begged it of her for the sake of my heir.” His throat tightened. “I will leave Edgar everything that isn’t entailed, if you’ll only stay with me.”

He tried to draw her close, but she resisted. “Christ, I need you. You can’t abandon me! ” Desperation wasn’t the way to keep her, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Lettice. “I know I haven’t been mistaken these past years. You felt real affection for me. I know you did.”

“I did.” Her eyes deepened with pity. “And I truly thought of you as Edgar’s father, for you’ve always been kind to him. But it doesn’t excuse your lies about me and my lady.”

“Juliana has naught to do with it,” he snapped.

“But the lies you told about her do.” She pulled free of his hold. “I thought you were a generous and kind man. Instead I find you’re a stranger, a deceiver—”

“You deceived me, too.”

“To protect my child from starvation. You lied to gain something that didn’t belong to you.” She moved away from him, and he could feel her emotionally withdrawing.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s no use. It could never be the same between us.” She dragged in a heavy breath. “When Morgan comes tomorrow, Edgar and I are going with him.”

“And if I marry you?”

She gaped at him. “What in heaven’s name are you talking about? You’re already married.”

“I’ll divorce her.” He strode toward her, his purpose firming as he got closer. “I’ll divorce Elizabeth and marry you.”

“You’re mad! An earl divorce his lady wife and marry a servant? Even if you could manage it, you’d lose every social advantage you’ve gained. You’d never risk that. You
shouldn’t
risk it.”

What she said was true, but he didn’t know how else to keep her. “I’d risk anything to keep you with me.”

“I couldn’t accept such a sacrifice from you, Darcy.” She straightened her shoulders. “Not when I love Morgan.”

Those words exploded in his brain. He seized her in an unyielding hold, refusing to let go when she pushed against his chest. “You
don’t
love him. I can prove it.” He tried to kiss her, but she twisted her head away. “Let me make love to you, and I’ll show you what still lies between us.”

“Don’t.” She fought him in earnest now.

Her fear only enraged him. He grabbed her chin, forcing her head still so he could kiss her on the mouth. But when he tried to force his tongue between her teeth, she bit him.

He jerked back, then slapped her. Hard.

Then horror consumed him. “Oh God, Lettice . . . I’m sorry—”

She pushed him away and fled for the stairs. “Leave, Darcy.” She held her hand to her cheek, which bore the imprint of his hand. “Please, just leave.”

He took a step toward her.

“You promised not to hurt me. Did you lie about that, too?”

The words slid into his gut like a sharp blade. She feared him now, and rightfully so. He’d made her fear him.

He backed away, afraid of what he might do if he got
any closer. Right now she had cause to fear him. But if he came near her again, he might give her cause to hate him.

“Please go,” she repeated.

He felt as if someone had wrenched his heart from his chest. “All right. But you’ll come to your senses eventually and see that you love me as I love you. He’ll never be good enough for you.”

When he walked out and closed the door, he stood there listening to her sobs. Despite his brave words, he knew he’d lost her in a moment of blind stupidity.

How in God’s name would he ever endure it?

No profit, though near dead,

I’ve had of this white maid,

Save to love all entire

And languish with desire,

To praise her through the hills

Yet, solitary still,

To wish her at nightfall

Betwixt me and the wall.

—DAFYDD AP GWILYM, “THE GREY FRIAR”

A
nd will dinner be at the usual time?” Mrs. Roberts asked, three days after Juliana’s return to Llynwydd.

“Yes.” Juliana rolled her eyes. “Unless Squire Arrogance decrees otherwise.”

Mrs. Roberts laughed. “He still thinks he makes the rules? Men are such fools.”

Generally Juliana ignored Mrs. Roberts’s thinly disguised attempts to find out what was going on between the master and the mistress, but today she was just angry enough to give the woman an earful. “Yes, but they all certainly
stick together. I’ve won a skirmish in the kitchen, but lost one in the stables.”

“The groom refused to saddle you a horse again, eh?” Mrs. Roberts clucked sympathetically. “Well, milady, I’m sorry for it. I know you miss your daily ride. But you’ll be at it again once the master realizes how silly it is to keep you from it.” She smoothed her apron. “I’d best get back to work.”

As the woman bustled off, Juliana frowned. The household had fallen into two distinct camps divided entirely by sex. It infuriated her.

All the wretched footmen and grooms were under Rhys’s thumb. Some of them were newly hired, so their loyalty was understandable. But she had hired the blasted groom who’d thwarted her this morning. He’d hemmed and hawed and begged her pardon, but in the end, he’d refused to saddle her horse.

Like his male companions, he’d thrown in his lot with Rhys. Her husband had only to spin a few tales about his battles at sea and his experiences in America, and they were ready to die for “the brave master.”

At least the women were on her side, too practical to be swayed by stories of adventure. Behind Rhys’s back, they came to her for instructions. Mrs. Roberts was the most blatant, nodding and saying, “Yes, sir,” to Rhys’s commands, then coming to Juliana to ask what she wanted done.

And Cook! Juliana chuckled. Cook had baldly told Squire Arrogance that she wasn’t so foolish as to take her orders from a man who hadn’t the faintest idea what went on in a kitchen. He’d pointed out that he could dismiss her
for such insubordination, and she’d told him he knew better than to dismiss the only woman who could cook a
cawl
fit for a king. She’d been right, of course.

So Juliana had gone on planning meals, and Rhys had kept silent on that, just as he’d acquiesced when she’d had the maids move her clothing and jewel cases to the Blue Room.

But he and Moss discussed all improvements without her. She was forbidden the stables. And any outing she took in the carriage had to be approved by him, which invariably meant he went along.

It was insulting. And she dared not complain, for his answer was always “When you share my bed, I’ll share the estate.” Since he accompanied the pronouncement with a look that sent dangerously delightful shivers along her spine, she’d stopped complaining.

Instead she’d thrown herself into improving the squire hall. While he surveyed the tenant farms with an eye toward improvements, she clandestinely used her funds to order new drapes and linens. While he consulted with the estate blacksmith, carpenter, and gardener, she consulted with the housekeeper and oversaw the maids. It wasn’t hard to keep busy, although many of her former duties had been taken from her. She used the time to catch up on tasks she’d put off before—cleaning out the attic, taking stock of her wardrobe, deciding which books needed new bindings.

She rarely saw Rhys, and when she did, he was unrelenting in his determination to shut her out of the workings of the estate. Only when they shared dinner were they cordial, as if there was an unspoken truce. He continued to
recount tales about America, and she’d begun relating all that had happened to the estate after he’d left.

But once dinner was over, she always excused herself before he could turn the full force of his seductive talents on her. Fleeing to the Blue Room, she spent her nights remembering every blazing look he’d given her at dinner, every brush of his hand as he led her to her place, every kiss he pressed to her cheek.

As if guessing what his reticence did to her, he hadn’t again tried to kiss her mouth or hold her. He had to know it was driving her insane.

“Milady?” asked the butler.

Oh bother, she’d been standing here like a half-wit. “Yes, what is it?”

“Master Evan is here. He said you’re expecting him for a lesson.”

She groaned. “I completely forgot.” And she hadn’t even gotten his paper ready yet. “Send him to the kitchen and tell Cook to give him some tea and apple tarts to take up to the schoolroom. I’ll be there shortly.”

As the butler left, she hurried into the study and drew ten sheets of paper from the drawer. Then she held the edges over the candle flame to singe them, waving them in the air to dispel the smoke.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” came a voice from the doorway.