The Sweetest Kiss (Brothers of Worthington Series) (9 page)

Trey arched a brow. Exactly how close had Judith and her officer gotten before her parents died? A sour taste invaded his senses. Could this be the reason she fought Trey’s help in finding her alternative suitors? He’d have to ask her about it. Innocence was
key
in the art of husband hunting and if she’d been compromised… Trey groaned. Could the girl be in a family way? When had she last seen Alex?

Trey rubbed his forehead. If Judith wasn’t the maid his mother had expected her to be, Trey would have no choice but to dismiss her from his family’s house. Another scandal would be more than his mother could endure. What a disaster this was turning out to be.

A light hum from the hall drew his attention to the opened door. The swishing of skirts grew louder before his mother passed his study. Quickly, he stood.
“Mother?
Might I have a word?”

Seconds later, her head of silver ringlets peeked around the doorway. “You wish to speak with me?”

“Yes. Could you come in, please?”

She nodded and, ever the picture of grace and decorum, floated inside, smiling. “What is on your mind, son?”

He motioned to the cushioned chair near his desk. “Have a seat. I do not wish to exhaust you by making you stand.”

She sat and folded her hands on her lap before he took his seat.

“Mother, I have not yet had a chance to speak with you about your letter.”

“Beg pardon? What letter?”

“The letter you sent me a couple weeks ago, requesting my assistance with your newly appointed ward.”

She smiled. “Oh, that letter. What is it you wish to discuss?”

He drew his finger across the corner of the blank piece of paper in front of him. “I want to know why you asked for my help. If you needed someone to assist you in instructing the poor girl, why did you not hire a professional tutor?”

Even as regal as his mother always appeared, she grimaced, her lips thinning into a line.

“I’m appalled you would ask such a question. Judith is the daughter of my dearest friend. As a child, you knew the girl well. It’s not as if she’s a stranger to us.”

“Are you saying you expected me to help because I had known her as a child?”

“Why, certainly,” she said as though the situation should be perfectly obvious. “You know very well how important her parents were to your father and me. Judith needs people she can love and trust and who love and trust her at this very difficult time in her life.”

In silence, he growled. How often as a young man had his mother made him feel guilty? Apparently, she’d not given up this ability no matter his age. “Why did Trevor not do this himself? After all, it’s his responsibility as the duke.”

She arched a brow. “Your brother is married with a pregnant wife to care for. Trevor has other responsibilities and does not have the time to cater to me like you do.”

The truth came out.
Finally.
He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Forgive me, Mother, but do you not believe I have responsibilities, too?”

Her mouth pursed, eyes flashing. “The only responsibilities you claim are those of ill-repute.” She arched a brow. “Do you think I do not know? Rumors spread quickly, Trey.”

Bunching his hands into fists, he held his breath, trying to calm his ire. “Mother, the activities you mention are merely sport. I do have other responsibilities and business dealings requiring a great deal of time and attention.”

“Oh!” She stood and glared at him. “Trey, we have had this talk many times. I’m quite certain you are tired of hearing it, as I grow weary of telling. Your life is slipping away, and you do not have a thing to show for it. Do you want to be like your father, dishonorable as he was, embarrassing the family while causing scandal after scandal? Why can you not be more like Trevor? Even Tristan had been a good example of a decent nobleman.”

Trey’s heart clenched. Tristan had been the perfect example. Indeed their father’s curse flowed through Trey alone, and it was the very reason for Tristan’s death.

“Mother, if you will excuse me.” Trey turned his attention to the quill and ink on his desk. “I have pressing matters to attend.”

She huffed. “You cannot dismiss me that easily.”

“I must.” He glanced up briefly. “Due to my new responsibilities with
your
ward, I have arrangements to make on her behalf. Or have you decided against sponsoring her coming out ball?”

“Of course not.”

He stood. “Then if you will excuse me, I have schedules to maintain.”

With her back ramrod straight and chin lifted, his mother exited the study. Trey sank into his chair, picked up his quill, and dipped it in the inkbottle before writing a list. He jotted down everything to accomplish before Judith’s ball. With each new sentence, his concentration faltered. His penmanship worsened until he merely scribbled.

In distaste, he threw down the quill and pushed away from his desk. He paced the Persian carpet like a caged tiger, his chest tightening with each step. Why did his mother have to bring up the past? She knew how much he’d loved Tristan.
Although Trey might be following in his father’s footsteps, at least Trey stayed away from the kind of scandal his old man enjoyed creating.

Out of everything Trey’s sire had taught him about life—good, bad or otherwise—the most important lesson was in love. His father instructed him countless times not to give his heart to a woman. The pain could never be worth it. And it was a lesson Trey hadn’t needed to be told. He’d seen it every day of his childhood, watching the bitterness between his parents. They loathed one another. Over and again, Trey’s mother reminded him of how much he was like his father. Not just now, even as a boy she’d chastised him for the similarities. It was difficult not to feel wanting in the face of two perfect brothers.

Even now it was difficult for him to ignore his mother’s wishes. He knew she loved him, but he couldn’t let her shape him into something he was not…and as much as she wished it, he’d never be a younger version of Trevor.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He swung around, half-expecting to see his mother. Instead, Judith stood in the light of the hallway, angelic in her cream-colored day dress. Her chestnut hair was swept up in a stylish chignon with wisps of curls lining her forehead and around her ears. He almost wished they were outside again, just so he could see the golden touches from the sun.

“My lord?
Is this a bad time?” she asked meekly.

He motioned with his hand. “No. Do come in, please.”

“Yesterday, you did say to meet you here after the noon meal, but you and your mother were not at the table, so I worried our meeting had been postponed.”

“No need to fret, my dear. You are right on
time
.” He grabbed the cushioned-chair his mother had occupied earlier and pushed it closer to his desk. “Have a seat and we shall begin.”

After she settled herself, he took the other chair. Her sweet fragrance wafted around her and on impulse, he leaned closer to get a better whiff. Inwardly, he groaned. He’d always been a fool for women who smelled like flowers. Her scent enticed him to bury his face in her neck and never leave.

“My lord?”
She withdrew as confusion creased her face.

He straightened, realizing he’d been caught in his fantasy. “Forgive me, Judith. I was just enjoying your pleasing fragrance.”

Her face flamed a brilliant red. She lifted her chin higher, her hands clasped in her lap. “I thank you. I think.”

“Now, where were we?” He scooted away, knowing the closer they were, the more tempted he’d become.

He picked up a blank piece of paper and set it between them on the desk. He dipped his quill into the inkbottle then began writing:
To whom it may concern
. Then stopped and looked at her. “Do you know who we should address this to?”

“I do not.”

“Hmm…” He tapped the other end of the pen against his chin. “Perhaps then, we should just address it to:
Lieutenant Alexander Cutler’s Superior
.”

“That sounds very professional. I believe it will work.”

Keeping his penmanship precise, he proceeded to write the letter. He introduced himself, along with the dowager, as Miss Faraday’s guardians. When a thought crossed his mind, he stopped again. Earlier, he’d wondered just how close
she
and Mr. Cutler had been. Now would be a good time to ask her before finishing the missive.

He turned abruptly toward her, bumping against her in the process. He hadn’t realized she leaned quite so far into him. A gasp escaped her throat. Once again, her face reddened and eyes widened.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t know—”

“Oh, no.
It was my fault entirely.”

Silence hung in the air as he met her emerald gaze. He studied her shocked expression, but mainly her parted lips and the breaths rushing forth, breezing against his face.

“Why did you stop writing?” she asked.

How could he ask such a personal question without flaring her temper? Although he loved watching heat spark in her eyes when anger consumed her, this was not the time. Their discussion must be on a serious level.

He set the quill down, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest. “Judith, before I continue, I need to know something.”

“What?”

“Tell me more about you and Mr. Cutler.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I thought I had.”

“Not entirely. There are still a few questions left unanswered.”

“Such as?”

He cleared his throat. “You had mentioned earlier your parents did not know about your engagement.”

She lowered her gaze. “Alex and I kept it a secret. We were going to tell them after he had earned enough money to support me.” She shrugged. “However, before that could happen, my parents died in a carriage accident.”

He leaned forward and patted her clasped hands. “Judith, forgive me for bringing up bad memories about your parents.” It was a pain he knew all too well.

Her eyes flew up to meet his and she nodded.

“Tell me more about Alex. How
well
did you know him?”

She pulled her hands away from his touch. “After we realized we were in love, we met once a week for two months. At first our rendezvous were at my neighbor’s house, since Alex was related to them, but later in our relationship we met in secret.”

Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the next question. “What exactly did you two…um…
do
during your meetings?”

Her forehead creased as she narrowed her gaze. “Mainly we planned the rest of our lives as husband and wife, discussing our dreams and goals.”

Sighing heavily, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Judith, I don’t need to tell you how scandalous it is to meet a man in private, or how it can ruin a girl’s reputation.”

The corner of her mouth quirked.
“Of course not.
Did I not blame you for trying to do that when we were at the woodsman’s cottage?”

“If you knew, then why did you continue to meet Mr. Cutler in private?”

She blew out a ragged breath. “Because I loved him, and I knew my parents would not approve. I knew it would take a while before I could convince them I wanted to marry him and it did not matter if we were caught alone because we were—and still are—engaged.”

“But only in secret, correct?”

“Correct. We do not have anything in writing.”

Facing her, he took hold of her hands once again. Moisture from her palms coated his fingertips.
Nervous?
Of course she was. She had every right to be with the questions he threw at her.
Especially if she were guilty.

“You mentioned both of you were in love. So now my question is, how much did you love him?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Did he…
did
you…” Good grief, why did this have to be such torture? Her hands were stiff and he tried to relax her by rubbing his thumbs along her knuckles. “Judith, I might as well come right out and say it.”

“I wish you would.”

“Judith.” He held her gaze. “Did you…give yourself to him?”

She gasped, yanked her hands away from his, and jumped to her feet. The quick motion scooted the chair back, which put distance between them.

“How dare you!”

He stood. “Now, Judith. I have every right to ask.”

“You certainly do not.”

“My mother is sponsoring you. She is spending money on your coming out ball. If you are already um…deflowered, then she has the right to know. Why should she spend money on instructing you for a ball you do not need?”

Tears glinted in her eyes, but she blinked the moisture away. “Just because you took liberties and kissed me in the woodsman’s cottage, does not mean I’m the kind of woman who gives them freely.”

He admired her courage to stand up to him, and—he believed her. She could be lying, but deep down inside, he didn’t think so. Relief poured through him, and he nearly sighed aloud.

“I’m relieved to hear that, Judith.” He reached for her, but she took another step backward. “Now that we have that out of the way, would you like to finish writing this letter?”