Читать книгу The Greatest of Sins - Christine Merrill, Christine Merrill - Страница 11

‘What is the meaning of this rudeness, Evelyn? You left St Aldric alone, when he came specifically to see you.’ At her side, Evelyn could feel her father puffing in indignation like a tropical fish.

She smiled at him and added a loving hug and a doting look, ashamed of herself for this blatant manipulation. She had been taught by Aunt Jordan that a lady must use honey to catch flies. But sometimes she could not help but envy men their ability to catch flies with a reasonable argument. ‘I did not leave St Aldric alone, Father. Sam was there.’

‘That hardly signifies.’ His grumbling was a last desperate attempt to rein her in. But since he had not been successful in twenty-one years, she had no real fear of punishment.

‘I believe it does,’ she said, quietly, still smiling, but renewing her grip on his arm and leading him down the hall to the library, shutting the door behind them so that there was no chance for a servant to hear what she wished to say. Then she checked the window that looked out on the garden to be sure that it was closed. No word of their conversation must reach the men talking there until she had confirmed her suspicions.

‘A physician and a duke?’ Father was shaking his head like a dog worrying a bone. ‘The only reason that the two of them should speak is if the peer is ill, and you know for a fact that he is not. Unless … You have no fears, have you?’ As usual, her father was thinking ahead to a future that she had not yet agreed to.

‘Are you worried about my widowhood before I am even a bride?’ she said with a raised eyebrow. ‘It is nothing like that. St Aldric is perfectly healthy, as is obvious to all who see him. But Sam is a member of the family. I think it is important that the two get to know each other. Don’t you?’ She looked expectantly at her father, hoping that he would not force her to badger the truth from him.

‘If you assume that Hastings will play a part in your future, you harbour a misapprehension. We have discussed it and he is leaving London shortly. I doubt you will see him again.’

The finality of this statement was in direct opposition to her desires, so she ignored it. ‘Hastings?’ she chided. ‘Really, Father. Now you are the one who is being rude. When did you cease to think of him as Sam? And for what reason? If there is some breach between the two of you, then I beg you to heal it, for my sake.’

‘There is no breach,’ her father insisted, probably afraid that she would resort to tears. ‘But we have an understanding, he and I. And what has been done is all for your sake, I assure you.’

As if she needed protection from Sam. The idea was quite ridiculous and not worth mentioning. ‘I am more concerned with Sam and his future, Father. So should you be.’

‘He is seeing to that well enough, without my help,’ her father said. Perhaps he was simply hurt that the boy he had raised could manage to prosper without him.

‘His success is a credit to your early tutelage, I am sure.’ She must turn the topic, for she wished to close the breach and not widen it. Her father appeared somewhat mollified at the thought that he had contributed to Sam’s obvious success. ‘And I see no reason that he cannot stay here with us, while he is in London.’

‘He does not wish to,’ her father said, firmly.

‘I am happy to see that you have no objection,’ she said with another smile. One thing did not imply the other. But it was better to let him think her illogical than to allow argument. Then she added, as though in afterthought, ‘Once he is here, it will give you a chance to tell him what you know of his true parentage.’

‘I?’ That had caught him unawares, she was sure. He was flustered out of countenance and almost beyond speech. It took several seconds for him to manage a proper denial. ‘I know nothing. And whatever Samuel Hastings has told you on the subject is clearly a lie.’

‘He … told me?’ She gave a bat of her lashes to reinforce the innocence of her discovery. ‘He did not tell me anything. But I needed no great wit to draw my conclusion. I have my own eyes, if I wish to see the truth. You had best give him the whole story, if you have not already.’

‘I have no idea what you mean,’ said her father, in the slow and deliberate way that people sometimes used to deny the obvious.

Eve sighed and gave up on honey, preferring to catch this particular fly with a swatter. ‘Then I will explain it to you. I have had suspicions for quite some time. But it was only until just now, in the garden, that I was sure. When they are seen together by others, someone will remark on the resemblance between them. From there it is only a short step to seeing that the Duke of St Aldric and Dr Samuel Hastings are as alike as brothers.’

‘Evie, you mustn’t meddle in this.’ It was the same weak prohibition that he tried whenever she stepped out of bounds.

Since she knew there were no consequences to disagreeing, it would meet with the same lack of success. She continued. ‘You were a good friend of the old duke when he was alive, were you not?’

‘Of course, but …’

‘And mightn’t he have asked you a favour, at one point in your life, when you and mother feared that you would be childless?’ In case she had been too direct, she larded the question with more feminine sweetness. ‘I only ask because I know there will be gossip.’

‘There will be none if Hastings leaves, as he is promised to,’ her father said stubbornly. He had not affirmed or denied her theory. But evasiveness was an answer.

‘It is hardly fair to Sam, if you make him leave London just because of the duke.’ Nor was it fair to her. She would not lose him again, over something that should not matter to anyone. ‘If the estrangement between you is nothing more than a fear of making this revelation, you had best get it over with. Since I love both men, I mean to keep them close to me for as long as I am able.’ She smiled again and offered a bait that she doubted her father could resist. ‘I am sure that St Aldric would welcome the news. He has spoken frequently of the burden of being the only remaining member of his family. You would gain much favour by telling him what he longs to hear.’

‘Revelation of a natural son …’ her father stopped himself before revealing the truth ‘… if there were such, would do nothing to change his status as the last of the line.’

‘It would change the contents of his heart,’ Eve argued. ‘I know his spirit; it is generous to a fault. He would want to share his wealth with his father’s son. And it would at least make him cease his jokes about duels between them. Imagine his reaction, should they fight for some reason, and not learn the truth until after one of them had been injured.’

‘For some reason?’ She had pushed too far. Her father had spotted the hole in her argument and made his escape. ‘Really, Evelyn. Do not play the naïf. You know perfectly well that they would be fighting over your attentions. If an accident occurs, it will be your fault and not mine. You must send Hastings away. I have assured myself that the man is too sensible to harbour false hope on a match between you. And neither should you.’

‘I am not offering false hope.’ There was nothing false about it. After the time spent in the garden, the hope she felt was quite real. As was her conviction about the identity of Sam’s father. ‘I am simply attempting to right a wrong, before it goes further. It pains both men and does no credit to you.’

‘You are meddling in things you cannot understand,’ he said, patting her on the hand and treating her like the child he still believed she was. ‘If this is the reason you were impolite to St Aldric, then I am sorry to disappoint you. I have nothing to say on the matter, because there is nothing to say.’

Had she failed to persuade him? This happened so rarely that, for a moment, she suspected she might have been wrong. Perhaps there was no secret to reveal. ‘Father …’

‘Go!’ He pointed a finger back towards the garden, once again secure in his control of the situation. ‘Send Dr Hastings on his way before the duke tires of his company. Visit with St Aldric, as he desires. I have no intention of helping you out of the muddle you are making. This discussion is at an end and will not be repeated. Now, go.’ Her father’s lips were set in a firm line, as if to show her that no more words would pass between them until she had fulfilled her obligation to him, to society and to the duke.

But he was giving no thought to Sam’s needs. If he would not, then someone must, or he would be back on a boat and out of her life for ever. ‘Very well, then. I will talk to St Aldric. But you are wrong about the rest, Father. We will speak of this again and, next time, you will tell the truth.’ She would worry him with it night and day, if necessary. But she would have her way, and Sam would know his brother.

In Evelyn’s absence, an awkward silence had fallen between the two men. It was hardly surprising. Sam seldom had cause to speak to a man of such great rank and no right to initiate conversation. The duke had no reason to speak to him. It left the pair of them staring morosely at the kitten on the bench until the thing stumbled to the edge and off, wandering into the grass to stalk and pounce on crickets.

Now there was not even an excuse for the silence. It seemed that St Aldric was not content with this, for he was searching about him as though expecting to see an opening to a conversation. At last he offered, ‘Evelyn says you were educated in Scotland, and after you took to the sea.’

‘Indeed, your Grace.’ Sam shifted uneasily, clasping his hands behind his back.

‘The navy is an unusual choice for such a well-educated man. But I cannot fault your adventurous spirit.’

Sam was tempted to announce that he had not requested an opinion, but he had only one reason to dislike this man and no reason at all to be rude to him. Excessive fondness for Evie was no excuse for a lack of respect to the peerage. ‘The navy is an economical way to see the world,’ Sam admitted. ‘The prize money from ships taken was sufficient to make up for the lack of a medical practice.’ It would be nothing to the holdings of a duke, but it had been more than satisfactory for Sam.

The duke nodded approval. ‘The captain of the Matilda was ambitious.’

It was the truth, but St Aldric had stated it as though he already knew. Had he made an effort to discover this, or had Evie revealed it to him? ‘A very ambitious captain indeed, your Grace.’ He’d made enough to retire and return to land, and to have a house and family, should he wish for one.

‘Your record is admirable,’ the duke continued. ‘Other than a brief flirtation with the church of Rome, while you were in Spain.’

So he had read the record, then. And the warning put there by the captain, for the time he had spent conversing with priests. ‘It was curiosity. Nothing more.’ And a desire to find a cure for his spiritual affliction, or at least absolution, from a clergy that was bound to secrecy. In the end, the priest had looked at him with pity and disgust, and given him beads and prayer, almost as Sam might have prescribed a pill.

It had done no good.

‘It is strange that you have taken such an interest in my interest.’ Sam allowed himself the candid observation. The meddling in his affairs by this stranger annoyed him. ‘I do not mean to bother Evelyn with it, if that is what you fear.’

‘Not at all, sir,’ the duke said hastily. ‘I merely wished to take your measure.’

‘Then consider it done. I am what you see before you. No more, no less. In the future, if you have a question, you might ask me directly and I will answer it honestly and to the best of my ability. For Evelyn’s sake, if for no other reason.’ Did invoking her name make the words sound any less rude?

‘I see,’ the duke said.

‘I wonder if you do?’ Sam said, too tired of the games they were playing to dissemble. ‘I might as well have sworn to you on all that is holy. Such an oath would have had no more strength than my wish for Eve’s continued well-being. No matter what you might suspect, I want what is best for her.’ And then he admitted grudgingly, ‘If what I am hearing is true, she is on the verge of a fortunate match.’

Rather than answer this, the duke merely shrugged. It was a strange, rather boyish response from one so confident. ‘I have hopes. But it is up to the lady, is it not?’

‘I wish her well,’ Sam added. ‘She deserves the best that life offers. I have no reason to think she is not about to receive it.’

The duke gave him a long, slow look in response to this, as though trying to decide if he believed it. At last, he answered, ‘I am happy to hear you say so. Should I be the future you predict, I shall do my best to be worthy of her.’

This made Sam respond with an equally probing look. He could have understood a warning to stay away. But this behaviour seemed to indicate that the duke sought this approval. It was not necessary.

The silence fell between them again. It was even heavier this time, like the exhausted rest of men who had fought each other and were waiting between rounds to regain their breath.

Into the tense pause came Eve. As though she had not been between them the whole time, thought Sam with an ironic smile.

She was smiling as well, totally unaware of the direction their conversation must have gone. ‘I have returned to you,’ she announced. ‘I hope that my absence has given the pair of you a chance to become acquainted.’

‘You were gone barely ten minutes, Evelyn,’ the duke responded. ‘It was hardly enough time to establish a lasting friendship.’

‘But you spoke,’ she said as though prodding a wayward child through his lessons. ‘And you found him to be all that I have said?’

It made Sam wonder just what Eve had said of him.

‘I did not doubt your description,’ St Aldric answered. ‘But, yes.’

‘Then did you tell him what we discussed?’

‘I was a topic of discussion?’ Sam interrupted. He did not like being talked about. It was almost as annoying as being the subject of an enquiry.

‘I simply made clear to St Aldric how your career worried me,’ Evie replied, sitting between them in the space the kitten had occupied. She reached out and clasped his hand. ‘You were gone so long, Sam. I missed you. And do not tell me the navy is not dangerous. Even with Napoleon defeated, it must be. There are storms and pirates, and all manner of accidents that might befall you. Suppose you took ill? Who would treat the physician?’

‘Evie.’ Now she was coddling him and doing it in front of the duke. He added embarrassment to the host of other discomforts she caused.

‘I wondered if something might be done to persuade you to stay ashore.’

‘Do you not think that I am best able to decide for myself?’ Sam said, as gently as possible.

‘I told her as much,’ St Aldric said with a sigh. ‘But she did not wish to hear it.’ For a moment, they were brothers in arms against a foe as tenacious as Bonaparte. But having fought both, Sam credited Evie as more stubborn than the whole French army.

‘I am tired of people ignoring my letters and dismissing my fears,’ Eve said, eyes narrowed and jaw set. ‘Samuel Hastings, you are risking your life at sea and there is no reason for it. I have been quite beside myself, praying for your return. A practice on land will be safer. Something must be arranged for you.’

Sam took a breath before speaking, trying to keep his temper for her sake. ‘As I told you before, I prefer to make my own way. My early life was spent beholden to your father and it was difficult.’ More difficult than she could possibly imagine. ‘The debts of gratitude I incurred are something that can never be repaid.’

‘You need not be grateful for a job,’ she snapped back. ‘I am sure you are skilled enough to merit this position. It is an opportunity, nothing more. You will prove your worth by your service. I have spoken to St Aldric and he is agreed.’ She gave the duke a warning look that said this had best be the truth, if he knew what was good for him. And then her expression changed to sort of smile that no man could resist and she took the duke’s hand, giving it the same warm squeeze that she had given Sam. ‘It is all settled. You will come to Aldricshire with us and act as Michael’s personal physician.’

For a moment, the anger was stunned out of him. Any doctor in England would be overjoyed with such a post. St Aldric was young and strong, and of an amiable nature that bespoke a long and pleasant career in his service. It would mean a life of comfort and a chance to keep a wife and children in luxury.

As long as he was willing to keep Evelyn’s husband fit and healthy. Perhaps he would be required to watch over her, as she grew big with another man’s child, and stand by in approval as their brood increased. And now she was holding both their hands and looking from one to the other as though it would be possible to make the three of them into one happy family.

‘No.’ He made no effort to hide his disgust as he pulled his hand out of her grasp and stood, turning and backing away from the pair on the bench. ‘You ask too much of me, Evie.’ He looked to the man beside her, trying to maintain a frigid courtesy. This idea was no fault of the duke’s, but it explained his rude questioning of moments before. He probably feared that Sam was the sort of man who would use Evie’s fondness to his own betterment. ‘I apologise, your Grace, but I must respectfully refuse the offer.’ Perhaps St Aldric could explain it to her. The man must have guessed his feelings, if Thorne had not already explained the situation.

He looked at Evie, whose beautiful eyes were beginning to fill with tears, and then he backed away from her, towards the house. ‘And I should take my leave as well. It is long past the time I meant to go. You persuaded me to tarry. But I should not have listened.’

Lead us not into temptation … The words of the prayer echoed in his mind.

But they offered no protection from the stricken look on her face. ‘Sam, wait …’

If she spoke another word, he would weaken. He would wipe those tears and agree to anything that might make her smile again. She would have him moved into the house by evening, sleeping scant feet from her bedroom door.

‘I cannot.’ Must not. ‘Not another moment. Good day to you, Lady Evelyn. And you as well, your Grace. And goodbye.’