Читать книгу Scandal with a Sinful Scot - Karyn Gerrard - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Ten days later

“Megan, don’t sulk. It doesn’t become you,” Abbie admonished gently.

Her daughter’s lips pursed further. “How else am I to feel considering what you’ve told me? I should have stayed at school. Never should have agreed to this trip.”

Megan had been furious for days, the atmosphere between them chilly and fractious. Abbie would have to endure hours of watching her daughter pout. But she could hardly blame the girl considering the shocking news that she’d relayed to her.

The carriage lurched in a deep rut on the road, sending them reeling across the bench seats. Abbie sat up straight and adjusted her bonnet. She’d taken the extravagance of hiring a private coach. Granted, it wasn’t exactly lush and comfortable, but at least they were alone for the journey. It would take several hours to reach Kent, a change in horses, a meal at an inn.

Megan crossed her arms defiantly and gazed out the carriage window. A frown replaced her pout. “I will not call this man ‘Father.’ I utterly refuse. I had a papa, and he died.”

“Elwyn was your papa in every sense. He loved you as if you were his own,” Abbie said gently.

“You have ruined my life,” Megan accused as her lower lip quivered. “Why tell me at all? And don’t say because you and Papa agreed to wait until I was older. You could have kept this horrible secret once he passed and I never would have been the wiser. Please turn the carriage about and head home.”

“No, Megan.”

“You want to see this man again, and you are using me to reopen the acquaintance,” she snapped irritably.

This lay close to the truth. Too close. But it wasn’t the entire truth. “Yes, I want to see him again. I’ve had sufficient time to move past most of my anger. But more importantly, what your father told me more than once in years past holds true: Garrett Wollstonecraft deserves to know.”

“He truly doesn’t know about me?”

Abbie shook her head. “We had already gone our separate ways when I found I was with child. Our parting was not under the best of circumstances.” A decided understatement.

Megan glared at her. “Why didn’t you tell him then? If he was any kind of gentleman he would have married you. You said that he’s the son of an earl.”

“My dear, we were both eighteen years old. Barely four years older than you are now. We were children, and we fought before we parted. Hurtful words cutting deep on both sides. I never even told my parents who the father was.” Abbie gave her daughter a shaky smile. “I was scared, angry, and, yes, immature. I came to understand that I should have returned to Kent and informed him of my condition. You see, we had no business doing…what we did. We were too young and naïve to understand the consequences.”

“And I am the consequence.” Megan frowned. “Did you love him at all? Or was the encounter nothing but a scandalous affair?”

Abbie moved to the opposite bench and slipped her arm about Megan’s shoulder. “You were not a consequence, but a miracle. The happiest day of my life is when they placed you in my arms.” Megan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I did love him, most desperately. Never think that you were not conceived in love, for you were. It was not cheap and tawdry. Ill-advised, perhaps, even scandalous, but the emotions were real.” At least on my end.

“I cried all night when you told me this. Papa, who I still love dearly and miss fiercely, is not my real father. Do you understand how devastating it was to hear? I feel like a part of me has been ripped away. How could you do this to me?” Megan pulled away from her. “I wish you had never told me. I also wish I hadn’t agreed to this. I don’t want to meet him. I’ve changed my mind. Please, please, can we turn about and go home?”

Abbie could hear the anger and hurt in Megan’s voice, and her heart tightened in empathy. Who wouldn’t be affected by such a revelation? The secret was indeed shocking. “No, Megan. We are already more than halfway there. Meet him, at least. If you choose, you never have to see him again. The decision will be yours. I promise.”

“I will hold you to your vow.” Megan gazed out the window for several minutes. “What does he look like? Is it because of him that I have all this red hair?” she asked. “I often wondered why I had red hair and you and Papa did not.” Her lower lip quivered. “I look nothing like Papa. I see it now.” At least the question showed she was a little curious about Garrett, though her tone displayed her annoyance. It also revealed her deep sadness at not being Elwyn’s biological daughter.

“Yes. Garrett is half Scottish on his mother’s side. What does he look like?” Abbie sighed. “He was formidable at eighteen, well over six feet in height then, with broad shoulders and the most glorious head of silky red hair. Handsome beyond measure. I became smitten immediately.”

Telling Megan that she had seen Garrett in the village last week would not be prudent. It had opened an old wound, and as a result all her passionate emotions had escaped. Abbie believed she had conquered them and buried them deep. The sad truth is that she had never stopped yearning for Garrett. Not even when she lay in her husband’s arms. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly dashed it away before Megan saw it. She’d adored Elwyn and tried her damnedest to fall in love with him, but her heart belonged to one man only. The man who had broken it.

Abbie would not be able to move on with her life if she did not face Garrett one last time. Tell the truth about Megan. Find out once and for all if his cruel words were true. Or had he used them to distance himself from her, all because of his so-called family curse? “We will have a nice visit with Alberta and Jonas, and while we are there you will meet Garrett Wollstonecraft.”

Megan nodded, her expression still stony. “Very well, Mama. I will meet him. But I do not have to like him or accept him.” She paused, then said. “The only thing I am looking forward to is seeing Jonas. Truly, he is why I agreed to this. He’s the most beautiful boy that I have ever seen. Can a boy be beautiful?”

“Well, Jonas is twenty-four now, hardly a boy.”

Megan tapped her temple with her gloved finger. “He is a boy in here, a very sweet boy.”

“He always will be, Megan. And if a man could be categorized as beautiful, Jonas would fit, with his perfect features and golden-blond hair.” She sighed. “Do not become too attached, my dear. Nothing can come from it.”

Megan remained silent for several moments, as if digesting what Abbie said. “But he is a man; he would have all those desires men experience, would he not?”

Abbie sat up straight and stared at her daughter incredulously. “What are they teaching you at that school?” A frisson of alarm tolled in Abbie’s head. Five years past, when Alberta and Jonas had last visited, Megan had formed an attachment to Jonas that Abbie had found endearing, but with Megan on the cusp of womanhood? Already she was a well-developed girl for her age and too bold by half. Perhaps this trip was a mistake on more than one level.

“Love can happen at a young age. It did in Romeo and Juliet,” Megan declared.

“It’s a tragedy.”

Megan shrugged. “Not all love has to be tragic. Or turn out as terrible as yours.”

Well. A direct hit. “We are not speaking about me. You’re still young, with years ahead of you and many young men to meet before you decide about love.” She patted Megan’s gloved hand. “In the meantime, this will be a difficult enough visit. Thinking of Jonas as only a friend would be wise.”

Megan turned to stare out the window again, not replying. Oh, good heavens, did she harbor a tendre for Jonas? There lay heartache. First loves could cut to the very soul—especially when they go wrong. Abbie knew this more than anyone.

The carriage arrived at the Eatons’ shortly past the dinner hour, and with the happy greetings out of the way, everyone had been ushered into the parlor and trays of food brought in.

When they had first stepped into the room Jonas happily hugged them both, though Megan had held on to him longer than was decent. The young man looked as dazzling as ever. Goodness, should she allow them to be alone at all?

Once they were seated in the parlor, Alberta smiled and poured the tea. “I am glad the new furniture arrived last week, or we would have been hard pressed for seating. I should have waited until the room was completely renovated, but the state of my uncle’s furnishings was shocking indeed.” She smiled amusedly. “Can you imagine, we found a nest of swallows when we first moved in. In one of the fireplaces upstairs.”

“I took them outside and cared for them, and after two weeks they flew away. Bert says they headed south for the winter,” Jonas enthused. The young man had always been interested in all sorts of animals and birds through the years, taking many in as pets, including a llama and an array of hedgehogs.

Abbie gave him a warm smile, then took the cup and saucer offered. “The manor house certainly has deteriorated since I was here last. But you are slowly making it your home. How wonderful.”

Megan stood. “I would like to go to my room, if I may. I am very tired.” Her voice was flat, her annoyance still present and obvious for all to see. Abbie fought her growing irritation. Her daughter was not going to make this easy.

“Of course, my dear. Jonas, please show Megan to her guest room. The blue room. Then you may retire as well.” Alberta smiled.

Abbie watched the young man closely. He was dressed in an immaculate brown suit; his manners while they ate had been impeccable, though he did not offer much in conversation except about the swallows. Truly, he was beautiful, as Megan had stated. But the fact remained he was ten years older and…somewhat simple. How else could she describe him?

“All right, Bert. Come with me, Meg.” Jonas wiped his mouth on the napkin and stood, allowing Megan to leave the room first.

Once they departed, Alberta sighed and passed Abbie a plate of sandwiches. “He is a joy to have about, but takes a good deal of supervision.”

“He is quite handsome…it is…how to say this?” Abbie began.

“A sin he is an idiot?” Alberta replied crossly. Then she shook her head. “I am sorry. I should not have said that, and in such an angry tone. I heard him being spoken of as such in town today while I shopped at the grocer and I’m still furious. I left immediately, before I made a scene.” Alberta sipped her tea. “Jonas is not an idiot. The doctor who examined him last year claims that he has the intelligence of a twelve-year-old, and unfortunately, the emotional development of one as well. It will always be thus.” She smiled sadly. “Jonas had been slow to develop, didn’t speak until the age of four. Yet for a while, my husband, Reese, thought that he might be ‘normal’—for lack of a better word. But he hit a plateau and stayed there. Many doctors have examined him over the years, and most agree that the stunting of his intellectual and emotional growth may have occurred during his difficult birth. The doctor who had been in attendance revealed that it took several minutes to get Jonas to take a breath. The lack of oxygen…it is hard to know. No one knows for sure.”

“You’ve never spoken of this before,” Abbie whispered.

“It makes me sad, in one way. But in another he has been a great comfort, especially when Reese passed. Before he died, I promised Reese I would look after Jonas and not allow him to be sent to one of those awful asylums. I’ve grown to love him as a dear brother.” Alberta laughed softly. “Tensbridge described him as a man-child. The narrative fits.”

“Garrett’s older brother? There was no mention of him in your recent letter.”

Alberta’s cheeks flushed. “I believe that there is something developing between us.”

“How fascinating, and worthy of a lengthy discussion. But regarding Jonas. Megan is infatuated with him. I do not want to make an issue out of it, as there will be enough drama involved with this visit,” Abbie said.

“We will keep an eye on them. You don’t have to worry, as Jonas has shown no inclination toward romantic pursuits. Now, speaking of drama, have you thought of a way to approach Garrett?”

Abbie bit into her egg and ham sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. Invite him over here and surprise him by causally walking into the parlor? Call at Wollstonecraft Hall? “I have no idea how to proceed. I know nothing about him, not then and certainly not now. Have no idea what sort of man he became. If our parting is any indication, he no doubt is an arrogant, selfish arse.” She gave Alberta a shaky smile. “Who knows how many women came after me… Lord, I am envious of nameless women. I cannot believe how violently my insides are churning.” Abbie laid a hand across her middle.

Alberta sipped her tea, then placed the cup and saucer on the tray. “Though Uncle was a recluse, we did keep up a correspondence. He stated that through Garrett’s mid-twenties, for a period of about two years, he had cut quite a swath through London. He and the younger Aidan especially. Then the sojourns to London ended, though not for his nephew. If anyone in the family has a scandalous reputation, it is Aidan. Notorious, even.”

Why did the news that Garrett had sought female company hurt so blasted much? She couldn’t expect him to live as a monk, alone in a dark room, pining away for her. Abbie had certainly found comfort elsewhere. With Elwyn.

“But regardless of his temporary wild streak,” Alberta continued, “Garrett is well thought of by his tenants and neighbors. He is honest and forthright in his dealings. Why, he is assisting me with renovations…” A knock sounded at the door. “Gracious, who could that be? It’s past eight o’clock.” Alberta stood and smoothed her skirt. “One moment.”

Abbie set aside the sandwiches. The parlor was directly located off the front entrance, making listening to conversations easy to achieve.

“Alberta, I am sorry to arrive unannounced and at an inconvenient hour.”

There was no mistaking that deep, masculine voice. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Garrett. God, what to do? Run for her room? Hide behind the curtains? Crouch behind the settee?

“Er…come in.” From the tone of her voice, Alberta was obviously flustered. The door was closed—he must be standing in the front hall.

“I can stay but a moment. I neglected to inform you there will be a delivery of lumber tomorrow, for the repairs in the kitchen area. With all that has been going on, it slipped my mind. I also wanted to thank you for coming to the hall last week. For Julian.”

“How is he? I haven’t seen or heard from him since,” Alberta asked, concern in her voice.

Abbie stood; her hands shook. It was now or never. If she didn’t see him now, she would be awake all night in nervous agitation.

“The news about Aidan has struck him hard, and he has been keeping to himself…” Garrett’s voice trailed off with her appearance.

With wobbly legs, she moved forward to stand beside Alberta. The gas lamp on the wall illuminated his face, the shadows accentuating his high cheekbones. They were more pronounced than she remembered. Lord, he was even more handsome than she recalled. Maturity had enhanced his near-perfect features, and his imposing, fine form filled the doorway.

So tall. Such shoulders. Seeing him up close—face-to-face—seized her breath. He’d always been a virile, vibrant presence. Positively shimmering with masculinity. Yes, age had improved every aspect of his good looks. As she had observed in Standon, his hair now hung to his shoulders, the colors more effervescent than ever. He met her gaze and his eyes widened, then his full lips parted in shock.

Megan was upstairs. Pray she did not come down. Not yet. Especially considering her current mood. Abbie needed to reveal this slowly. “Good evening, Garrett. It’s been a long time.”

* * * *

The hallway spun. Slow at first, then increasing in speed. Abigail Wharton. Abbie. It was as if a load of bricks had been dumped on his head. Or he’d been kicked in the chest by a horse. Yes, that was the sensation, for his heart had ceased to beat. A buzzing sounded in his ears, growing louder as each second ticked by. Then it faded and disappeared altogether.

Gradually, and in small increments, he came back to life, his heartbeat sluggish, his breathing shallow. The shock of seeing her caused his insides to plummet. Jesus, she is beautiful. Still, after all these years. More beautiful than memory served. He’d so carefully cut her from his life. From his very soul. Considering his response, the extraction had been a complete failure.

Garrett could not stop his gaze from sweeping over her form. More mature, rounded, more sweetly curved. Her raven-black hair was styled simply, piled and pinned on top of her head; loose tendrils framed her face. Her flawless, creamy skin shone in the muted light. Her dark brown eyes glistened, her look hopeful but guarded. God, get control. Say something.

But the words would not come. Instead, a long-buried memory took form in his mind: the two of them writhing in the hayloft. They were clutching each other desperately as he thrust in and out of her while she moaned and dug her nails into his back, scoring and marking him… He closed his eyes briefly in order to dismiss the erotic image, but it merely made it all the more vivid. His eyes snapped open.

“Well, this is…awkward,” Abbie said, her voice soft.

“Perhaps the two of you should head to the parlor. I’ll give you the privacy you need,” Alberta offered kindly.

Did someone speak? Garrett could not keep up with the conversation. It was as if all moved in slow motion.

Mutely, he followed Abbie to the parlor, mesmerized by her swaying hips. He was fully and painfully hard. The desire heating his blood was as real and heartbreaking as it had been fourteen years before. He buttoned his greatcoat. Be damned if he would show how she still affected him. Alberta closed the door and left them alone.

Garrett had the sudden urge to push Abigail Wharton against the wall and kiss her senseless. Tunnel his hand under her skirt until he found her heated core. Fumble with the fall of his trousers; pull out his erect cock and—

“Do you believe in fate, Garrett? A silly question, since you believe in curses. Of course you believe in fate. I did not. Until ten days ago.” Neither of them had taken a seat, but they kept a wary distance. “I saw you in Standon, of all places, a small village in the middle of nowhere. Big as life as always. There was no mistaking you. The moment that you stepped from the carriage, all my carefully packed away feelings and memories were torn asunder to haunt me once again.”

“What do you want me say?” He kept his voice as devoid of emotion as he could.

Abbie whirled about to face him. “Say? I want you to admit that you’ve been haunted by the memories. That perhaps you have regrets for the way you acted and the cruel, heartless words that you flung at me like daggers.”

Garrett defiantly crossed his arms. “Still bitter? I don’t have any regrets.”

She shook her head sadly. “Ah. You never loved me after all. I truly was young and foolish. Why am I not surprised that you have no regrets, considering our contentious parting?”

Garrett stepped closer. His arms dropped to his sides; his hands clenched into fists to keep them from pulling her into his arms. “I never said I didn’t love you, Abbie.”

Her eyes blinked rapidly. “Of all the arrogant… I asked if you loved me at our last meeting, and you gave a very emphatic ‘no.’ Forgot about all of our secret encounters, I see. It had meant nothing to you.” Anger sliced through her cool tone. “Well, I remember everything. Especially your cruel statement: ‘I will think of you now and then, but otherwise, not at all.’ It turns out that the callous statement was true. Of all the young men I could have chosen, why did it have to be a heartless bastard?”

Their affair had meant everything. The women who came after—and if he were to do a tally, it wasn’t as many as the gossips claimed—none of them came close to stirring his emotions like Abbie had. It was the reason he’d said those spiteful, pitiless words. To make her leave. He didn’t mean them, and he hated himself for a long while afterward but remained convinced it was the only way to avoid tragedy and heartache. He glanced at her hand. A wedding ring. Another solid blow to his aching heart.

“Why are you here? Seeking a carnal adventure away from your husband?” He’d no right to be hurt at the fact she was married. Selfish beast. And cruel, for his tone was a mocking one.

Abbie lifted her chin into the air. “A carnal adventure with you? Ha! Don’t flatter yourself. I am a widow, and have been for close to two years. I am content to be alone.”

That she no longer had a husband made his heart soar, but he tamped down the inapt response. “You waited for the appropriate mourning period to pass. Decided that life in a quiet country village no longer suited.”

“Oh, it suited me fine. You are the one who invaded my world and pushed it off its axis,” she snapped.

Garrett took another step closer. She stood her ground, as he remembered. “So you decided to return the favor, come here and stir up a painful episode for both of us.” His tone no longer mocked; he could hear the pain in his voice. Bugger it. Let her hear it as well.

Her eyebrow arched. “Are you in pain?”

“Bloody hell, yes.” And in more ways than one.

At such a confession, he expected her to give him a look of smug satisfaction. Instead her expression softened, but only for a moment. “We have much to discuss. But not tonight.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’ve had a long journey and am utterly exhausted. Perhaps we can meet at Wollstonecraft Hall?”

Not tonight? She’s dismissing me. Perhaps it was for the best, considering his overwrought reaction to her presence. How tempting to state that there was nothing to discuss, but he should hear her out. Pathetic. He wanted to see her again. Talk to her, be near her. Inhale her evocative scent. Still the wildflower combination he remembered. God, he could hardly think straight. Blood roared in his ears…and in his still-stiff prick. He couldn’t carry on a rational conversation if he tried.

“If you wish. Three o’clock.” He turned on his heel, flung open the parlor door, and stomped down the hall. Didn’t even say good night. All he knew was he had to get away from her. Once Garrett opened the front door, he broke into a run. If he had any damned sense he would keep running and never see or talk to her again. His heart pounded furiously in his chest. The cold perspiration that had collected at his hairline trickled down his cheeks.

Abbie: the only woman he’d ever loved. And damn it all, despite his determination to never think of her…he loved her still.

He was in a world of trouble.