THE EARL'S PREGNANT BRIDE (19 page)

She and Rafe would work it out. There would be truth and it might be difficult. But she’d chosen her life with him and she would fight tooth and nail to keep it.

“Do you love him?” her father asked. “Are you
in
love with him?” Somehow, he always knew how to hit to the heart of the matter.

“I do and I am.”

He laid his warm hand on her brow. “Then I think you’ll manage.”

“Papa,” she said fondly. “You know that I will.”

They talked a little more. She learned that her brother Damien and his fiancée, Lucy Cordell, were getting married in Las Vegas at the end of the week. Lucy was studying fashion in New York. They had planned originally to wait until she graduated.

“But they don’t want to wait any longer,” said her mother.

And Genny laughed softly. “I can understand that.”

* * *

Later, after her parents had left so that she could rest, Rafe came back.

He stood by the bed in dark trousers and a white shirt, so broad and solid. He was all she’d ever wanted. Too bad it had taken her so much longer than it should have to figure it all out. He asked if she wanted a mild painkiller. “Dr. Eldon said acetaminophen should be all right, for the baby.”

She shook her head. “It’s not bothering me that much. And there are things we need to talk about.”

“Later,” he said in a rough whisper. “When you’re stronger.”

She shook her head. “We’ve waited far too long already.”

He stood there, just looking at her, for a full count of ten. “All right. If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

He dropped into the chair her mother had sat in earlier. “There are a few things that happened while you were missing.”

“Tell me.”

“Melinda called Brooke, came clean about everything and promised never to darken our doorstep again.”

“I’m glad that she told Brooke the truth.”

“And speaking of Brooke, I actually think she’s had a change of heart.”

Genny nodded. “She seemed...different this afternoon. In a good way.”

“She told me she considers you her sister. That she loves you.”

Genny gave a low chuckle and felt the slight burn of tears at the back of her throat. “Believe it or not, I always knew that. I love her, too.”

“Love...” He repeated the word so softly. She couldn’t tell whether he meant it as a musing remark, or his pet name for her.

She drew in a slow breath. “I...had a lot of time to think. That can happen when you’re trapped down a well.”

He sat forward slightly. “And?”

“I started...I don’t know, reliving, remembering moments, events from the past. It helped to distract me from the pain in my ankle and the darkness and the rain coming down, from the water that kept rising, from my terror that I would die in there and so would our baby.”

“God, Gen...” There was real pain in his face—pain for
her,
for what she’d lived through in the long night before.

“I’m here.” She reached out her hand. He caught it, clasped it. When he let go, she pressed her palm to the slight swell of her belly. “Both of us are safe and well—and I’m not trying to upset you. It’s only that there are things that I really do need to tell you.”

He sat back purposefully. “Go ahead.”

“I thought of you, Rafe. I thought of all the years we’ve known each other. I thought of our four hot, wild days and nights in March, and the beautiful days and nights since then. And I...I thought of Edward, too.”

Rafe shut his eyes. She feared he would turn from her. But then he opened them again and he looked at her steadily.

She continued, “I remembered that day again—that summer day when I was fourteen and saw you kissing Melinda on the boat jetty. Before I came to the lake looking for you, I saw Edward, did I tell you that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He flirted with me the way he always did, charming me, making me feel important and feminine and all grown-up. And then some friends of his drove up. He went out to get in the car with them. He ducked into the backseat—and this is the important part. Because I had forgotten what happened next. I think I forgot because I really didn’t want to remember....”

“What?” He said it warily, watching her so closely.

“Fiona was in the car, waiting in the backseat. She would only have been nineteen at the time. It couldn’t have been more than a few months before she married Gerald. I...saw her face, just a glimpse. She smiled at Edward and reached out a hand to pull him close to her. There was something in the way she looked at him...a look I didn’t really understand then. A look of heat and anticipation. Of powerful desire. And last night, in the well? That was when it finally hit me. Fiona was in love with Edward. She was talking about Edward that night last month when she got so drunk. They were lovers, she and Edward. And from what she said that night a month ago, it didn’t end when she married Gerald.”

Rafe closed his eyes again. He let his head drop back against the chair.

Genny waited—for as long as she could bear it. And then, finally, she pleaded, “Please, Rafe. I need to know. I need the truth. I need to understand.”

And in the end, he didn’t disappoint her. He lifted his head and he gazed at her, unwavering. “Yes. They were lovers. I think it started when she was very young, fifteen or sixteen. And it kept on. They hid it from Granny and the parents, but not from us—not from Brooke and me. They were...crazy with it, the two of them. Fiona wanted him to marry her. But he wouldn’t. So she found her banker and married him, mostly to get even with Edward for not making her his countess.”

“But the affair didn’t end when she married Gerald.”

“No. It went on.”

“Dennis and Dexter—they’re the banker’s, right?” she asked. At his nod, she added, “I thought so. They look just like Gerald.”

“She would have dumped Gerald in an instant if she could have had Edward’s baby. And Edward didn’t want that, because he never planned to marry her.” He slanted her a weary look. “Are you sure you want the rest of it?”

“I do. Yes. All of it, please. I want to know what happened the night of that party at Tillworth, the night of the accident.”

He sat forward again. “You won’t like it.”

“I don’t need to like it. I just need the truth.”

He braced his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his fists. “That night, the night of the party, I caught Edward and Fiona in a clinch in the upstairs hall.”

“Oh, my God. That’s bad. Right there in Gerald’s house?”

“Yes. It made me furious. He’d told me the day before that he was going to propose to you, that he was flying to Montedoro at the end of the next week to ‘sweep you off your feet.’”

“He actually said that—and then the next night you caught him and Fiona going at it in her husband’s house?”

“I’m ashamed to say, my response to the problem was to get very drunk.”

“Oh, Rafe. I’m so sorry...”

“You have nothing—
nothing—
to be sorry for.” He gathered calm about him and sank back into the chair again. “And then later, because I was thoroughly bagged, Edward insisted he would drive me home.”

“Oh, dear Lord...”

“On the way, I got into it with him for planning to drag you into the dog’s dinner he’d made of his life. Edward was unrepentant. He said that he loved Fiona, but he’d never thought she would make him a suitable wife. She would bring him no status, not the way that you would. Plus, there was your fortune. He said, ‘You know how it is, Rafe. Hartmore requires the earl to take a bride with money.’ He said that he was fond of you and you loved Hartmore, so it was perfect. You and he would marry—and he and Fiona could go on as always.”

Genny said nothing. Her mouth was hanging open. She remembered to shut it.

And Rafe continued, “So I offered to give him money. I told him I would see that he had whatever funds he needed—and he could leave you out of it. He became offended. Because the earl of Hartmore can marry his money, but he certainly can’t stoop to living off the largesse of his younger brother. He insisted again that he was going to marry you. And that’s when I pulled out all the stops. I told him that I wouldn’t allow it. I said, ‘I’m going to go to Gen. And I’m telling her what you just told me.’”

Her heart ached with love for him. “What did he say then?”

“He couldn’t believe that I would dare. I think he forgot he was driving. He turned and snarled at me that of course I would never tell you any of it. He said that he knew very well that I was in love with you and you would only hate me if I did such a thing.”

Genny’s heart soared. “You...were in love with me?”

He didn’t answer that. He just went on, “The next turn in the road came up fast. He didn’t see it coming. I said, ‘Look out!’ But he kept on, straight ahead. He was still telling me off when he hit the oak tree.”

“Oh, my darling,” Genny whispered. “How completely awful.”

He stood up, went to the dark window and stared at his own shadowed reflection for a time.

“Rafe. Come here, please. Here to me....”

And he turned and came back to her and stood above her by the side of the bed. “It’s all so ugly and shabby and sad. I didn’t want you to have to know it.”

She reached out, clasped his hand and brought it to her cheek. “Having the truth is never as bad as not knowing, not understanding. And honestly, I only feel sorry. Edward was just a mess, loving one woman and planning to marry another. And I was no prize, was I? Brooke said it. I would have married your brother to be mistress of Hartmore.”

He rubbed his thumb so carefully across her bruised cheek. “You love Hartmore. In spite of all of Brooke’s carrying on yesterday, nobody here faults you for that.”

She gulped. “But they should. I had it all wrong. I wanted Hartmore, so I told myself I loved Edward. It was lies all round.”

Keeping hold of her hand, he sat on the bed beside her. “I meant what I said to him. I would have told you the truth before you ever made it to altar. You were never going to marry him. No matter how much you hated me for telling you the truth, I wasn’t about to let you ruin your life.”

“Oh, Rafe...”

“I regret that I threw it in his face, though. He wouldn’t be dead now if I’d only kept my mouth shut that night.”

“We can never know what might have happened. You didn’t do anything wrong. It really was just an accident. A terrible accident. You’ve been blaming yourself, and that needs to stop.”

He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her fingers. “You really are a very domineering woman.”

“Yes, I am. And I have deep flaws. But I’m working to improve myself. It’s true I’ve been much too obsessed with Hartmore.”

He looked at her unflinching, with such complete acceptance. “It’s all right. I understand. Hartmore is and always has been your greatest love.”

“Oh, Rafe. That’s not true. Not anymore. But I have to confess that I did marry you partly to get Hartmore.”

He smiled then. And it was a real smile, more than just the crescent-moon scar. “Only partly?”

“Well, there was the baby and the great sex. And
you.
I mean, we had been such dear friends. I hoped we might find our friendship again.”

“And we did, didn’t we?”

“Oh, yes. And now, I... Well, for weeks now I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you...”

He turned her hand over, brought her palm up and pressed his warm lips to it. She shivered in pleasure at that little kiss. And then he asked, “What?”

“You, um, mentioned that Edward said you were in love with me....”

He watched her face for the longest time. At last, he spoke. “I’ve always loved you, as a friend, as a true comrade, since that summer when you were five and I was thirteen and you talked to me as if I mattered, as though I was more than just my father’s oversize, wild-haired whipping boy.”

“Oh, my darling...”

“But then you came to us that summer you were seventeen and you had suddenly grown up. And it hit me like a bullet to the chest. I knew that summer that you were the only woman for me. And I also knew that all you’d ever wanted was to marry my brother.”

“Dear Lord...since I was seventeen? I can’t...”

“Love, you’re sputtering.”

“Of course I’m sputtering. You just told me that for eight years, you’ve been in love with me.”

“I did. I have.”

“But you never said a word to me. I can’t believe...” She thought again. And she found that she
could
believe. She drew a slow breath. “Sometimes it’s so hard to say the words that matter most.”

“It is, yes. You were seventeen and I realized I was in love with you—and you had been telling me for years that you were going to marry Edward.”

“God, what a twit I was.”

He chuckled. “You were very determined. And I had a lot of pride. I told myself that if you wanted Edward, well, you could have him. I tried to forget you. And then I watched all the goings-on with him and Fiona. I realized that it was going to be a disaster for you if you married him. When I saw him with Fiona at Tillworth that last night, I made up my mind, finally, to tell you about the two of them, no matter if you hated me for it. No matter if you never spoke to me again. And then Edward died.”

“And you blamed yourself.”

“I did, yes.”

“Truly, Rafe, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was, at least partly. So I tried to stay away from you.”

“But I wouldn’t allow that. I tracked you down at Villa Santorno.”

“And then—” he put his hand on the soft swell of her belly, so gently “—there was the baby. I convinced you to marry me—and got exactly what I’d always wanted all along.”

“I mean it, Rafe. It’s not your fault that Edward died. And it’s not wrong that we are happy together. It’s...what Eloise said to you that day she took you to the West Wing Gallery and showed you the portrait of Richard DeValery, that what we all need to do is to live a productive, rich life anyway, in spite of everything.”

He gazed at her so tenderly. “We both know that’s not exactly what she said.”

“Close enough—and where were we? Ah. You and me, married, and you still hadn’t told me how you really felt.”

“I couldn’t get the words out. I knew that when I finally did say it, when I told you how much I love you, I would have to tell you all of it, about Edward and Fiona and the night Edward died. I knew that the whole story was going to come out.”