Chapter Sixteen

Thea’s startled eyes met Jeremy’s, and then dropped, unable to face the warmth there. “I can’t stay, Gillian,” she said, smiling, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve the stables to manage.”

“Couldn’t you hire someone to do that for you? Daddy does,” Gillian said. “Please? Make her say yes, Daddy.”

“What do you think, Thea?” Jeremy said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Does it sound like a good idea to you?”

“What of Evadne?” Thea’s voice was tart.

“I don’t like her,” Gillian said.

Jeremy’s mouth quirked. “Out of the mouth of babes. Will you at least think about it, Thea?”

“There’s nothing to think about,” Thea snapped. Oh, how could he? When he had made it clear that he would marry Evadne, that she herself was nothing to him? “As I believe I told you once before when you made this suggestion.”

“Thea, I didn’t mean—”

“I think we’d best forget this topic. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get into some dry clothes.”

Gillian huddled next to Jeremy as Thea strode away. “Is she going to leave, Daddy?”

“I don’t know, poppet.” Absently Jeremy fondled her silky curls, looking up the stairs after Thea. She couldn’t leave. Not now, when he finally knew what he wanted. God, Stanton, you are a fool. “You’d better get into some dry clothes too, poppet. Go on with you, now.” He gave Gillian a little push, and then turned toward his study, to think about this new and unexpected development.

The front door opened at that moment, letting in gusts of wind and rain and bringing with them Evadne and Francis. Both were laughing, but they stopped when they saw Jeremy. “You got caught in the storm, too, I see,” he said mildly, and thought they both relaxed.

“Yes. We were in the rose garden. You have a fine estate, Stanton,” Francis said.

“Thank you.” He looked at Evadne, whose eyes were downcast. “Is all well?”

“Yes. Stanton,” Evadne said, putting her hand on Jeremy’s arm as he brushed past her. “I wish to apologize. I promise I’ll keep Fluffy away from you in the future.”

“Thank you, Evadne,” he said, a little surprised. “I’d appreciate that.” He went into his study, brow furrowed. What hold did Thea’s brother have on Evadne, to make her behave so well? If he could figure that out and use it himself, if Evadne were like that all the time, he almost wouldn’t mind marrying her. Almost. For the fact remained that something fundamental within him had changed. His world had shifted on its axis and only now was beginning to revolve again. There was no use denying the truth: he was in love with Thea.

He leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. This was something he had never expected to happen to him, not since losing Daphne. He had thought he’d learned a lesson then, that love wasn’t real, was not to be trusted. Thea, however, was not Daphne. Good lord, what would he do with a wife like Thea? She was independent and sharp-tongued, and would demand far more of him than Evadne ever would. She was also far more loving, with both himself and Gillian. For all her independence and strength, there was a vulnerability to Thea that Evadne, armored by her selfishness, lacked. Thea cared, and that meant that he would have to care back. The easy, uncommitted life he had planned for himself lay in pieces at his feet.

“Damn,” he muttered, but he was smiling. The smile faded, however, as reality began to penetrate his fog of happiness. He had a serious problem. He was engaged to someone else, and how would he get out of that?

 

“All right, girl,” Thea murmured softly to the bay mare that was hers to use during her visit. “We’ll go home.” Clucking softly, she set the horse into motion, along the path that led through the Home Wood. Thank heavens her doctor had told her she could still ride, as long as she was careful. She thought better on horseback, and she had much to think about. Coming to Moulton had been the biggest mistake of her life.

It hadn’t seemed so at first, and even now she thought that Jeremy should know about his child. For her own sake, though, she couldn’t tell him. For herself, she had to get away. Jeremy didn’t love Evadne; that she knew. However, he would marry her. That he had made clear. She had lost him.

Buck up, my girl, she told herself. You didn’t want to marry again, anyway. That had been before she had known it was possible to feel as she did, though, as if without Jeremy she was only half-alive. It had been before she had known she was going to be a mother. That had changed everything. She couldn’t think only about herself anymore. What could she do, though, when the man she loved didn’t love her? It was exquisite torture, living in his house, talking with him, and never, never showing what she felt by either word or action. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, as if to memorize his face against the lonely days ahead. For, lonely they would be. Not when she felt about him as she did. She hadn’t known it was possible to be so aware of a man physically, to hunger for his touch. She hadn’t known that knowing Jeremy would never be hers would hurt so much.

And so, she would go. She would have to. Not back to Linwood, however. It was bad enough that her child would have no father without its having to carry the stigma of illegitimacy. She would leave England, for Italy, perhaps, now that the Continent was open to travel again. There she would have her child, and when she returned she would tell everyone that she had decided to adopt an orphan. People wouldn’t quite believe her, she knew, but it was the best she could do. She had no intention of leaving England forever. Linwood would someday belong to her child. She wanted to raise him there.

Thea emerged from the trees onto the lawn leading up to the house, under a sky as low as her spirits. She had only ridden a few paces when she saw Gillian, running toward her from the house. Instantly her spirits picked up. If nothing else came of the visit, she had come to know Gillian. Leaving her would be as hard as leaving Jeremy.

She raised her hand in greeting, and, at that moment a rabbit bolted out from the undergrowth to her right. Her horse, startled, reared, and it took all of Thea’s considerable skill to stay in the saddle. Her hands competent and firm, she brought the horse, trembling and snorting, back down. “There, Maggie, girl, you’re all right,” she murmured to the horse, bending over to pat her neck and controlling her own shudders of reaction. A fall now would be disastrous.

From ahead of her there was a cry, a small, inarticulate sound of distress. Thea looked up just in time to see Gillian, her face white, turn and begin to run away. “Gillian!” Thea called, but the girl didn’t stop. With an exclamation of surprise, Thea slid down off her horse, stopping only to loop the reins over a branch before she set off after Gillian, raising her skirts and running in a way that ladies weren’t supposed to. The child was much more important than any horse could be. “Gillian!”

Gillian stumbled and fell, and Thea reached her side, dropping to the ground and gathering her into her arms. “Gillian. Honey, are you hurt—”

“I—saw you,” Gillian gasped, her small hands, balled into fists, beating at Thea’s shoulders. “I saw you.”

“Yes, honey. You saw me do what?”

“I saw what the horse did. You almost fell!”

“Shh. Shh.” Thea tightened her embrace, rocking back and forth as Gillian’s voice rose. “But I didn’t, honey, and I’m not hurt. I’m all right.”

“But—I saw you. The horse—the horse reared and you went back—just like Mother, and—”

“Gillian.” Thea pulled away, putting her hands on the girl’s shoulders, “look at me. Look at me. There, that’s better.” With gentle fingers, she reached out and brushed a tangled strand of hair away from Gillian’s eyes. “I’m not hurt. I promise you.”

“You do?” Gillian’s eyes searched hers. “But when my mother’s horse did that, she fell and she died—”

“Merciful heavens!” Thea exclaimed. “Gillian, were you there when your mother died?”

“Yes! And it’s my fault, my fault.” She threw herself onto Thea’s chest, sobbing in an agony of remorse and long-suppressed pain. “I made it happen.”

“No, honey, surely not.” Dear lord, no wonder the poor child feared horses. “Honey, how did you cause it? Did you startle the horse?”

“No, no! Mother wouldn’t let me near it!”

“Then how, honey?”

“Because I wanted it to happen! Because she called me ugly and said I should have been a boy and I hated her, I hated her. And I wanted something bad to happen to her, but not that. Not ever that.” Gillian stared up at her, the tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t.”

“No, lovey. I know it. I know.” Thea pulled her close and rocked her back and forth while she cried, her mind awhirl. Merciful heavens. The child had carried the guilt of this for three years. It was a wonder she was as sweet and natural as she was, with such a burden. “Gillian. Gillian, hush now,” she said, after a few minutes, when Gillian’s sobs had turned to hiccups. “Hush and listen to me.” Gillian pulled back, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Are you listening?” Gillian nodded. “This is very important, honey, and I want you to believe I’m telling you the truth. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“But I wished it! I did!”

“Yes, I’m sure you did. Your mother hurt you, honey, and when someone hurts you, the first thing you want to do is hurt back. But if every time someone wished another person harm, that wish came true, there wouldn’t be many people left.” She smoothed Gillian’s hair back from her face. “Everyone does it, honey. That doesn’t mean it’s right, and it certainly doesn’t mean someone actually gets hurt that way.” Thea sat back, her eyes holding Gillian’s. “What happened to your mother was an accident. You didn’t cause it.”

“But I did—”

“No. You didn’t. Honey, do you think I would lie to you?”

Gillian considered that for a moment, and then shook her head. “No.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. And your father would tell you the same thing.”

“You won’t tell him!”

“No, not if you don’t want me to. Gillian, just because you wish for something doesn’t mean it will come true. Surely you know that?”

“I wished for a kitten,” she said in a low voice, her head bent, and Thea smiled. “And I wish you could be my new mother, instead of Miss Powell.”

“Oh, Gillian—”

“She’s like my mother. She doesn’t like me, either.”

Thea sat back on her heels, feeling helpless. The poor child, suffering for years under a burden of guilt she didn’t deserve, and now saddled with a selfish woman as stepmother. She couldn’t deny Gillian’s words; she’d promised not to lie. “I’d like to be your mother, too, honey,” she said, and Gillian raised her head sharply, her eyes filling with hope. “But it can’t be that way.”

“But I want you to! It’s not fair.”

“I know. But I promise that I will always be your friend. All right?”

“All right,” Gillian said, after a moment.

“Good.” Thea got briskly to her feet, before she burst into tears like a child herself. “Wait here, I’ll get Maggie and we can go home together.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Gillian’s eyes were huge as she scrambled to her feet.

“Of Maggie? Of course not. It’s not the first time I’ve had that happen. And it wouldn’t have been the first time I fell.” Thea unlooped the reins and led the horse toward Gillian. “In fact, if you weren’t here, I’d ride home.”

“You would?” Gillian’s face was thoughtful as she fell into step beside Thea, their hands linked. “Thea? Would you teach me to ride?”

Thea stopped and looked down at her in amazement. “Of course I will, kitten,” she said, striving to sound calm. “Come, let’s go home.”

Jeremy met them in the hall as they came in, laughing and breathless from having raced up the drive. A slow smile lighted his face as he watched Thea struggle to regain her composure. “Running, Mrs. Jameson? How very unsuitable for a lady.”

“If I weren’t a lady I’d stick my tongue out at you,” she retorted, forgetting, in the stress of what had just happened, her own misery.

“That might be interesting,” he said, and gave her such a long, considering look that she turned red.

“Daddy, Thea almost fell off Maggie,” Gillian said.

Jeremy’s eyes went swiftly to Thea, and he took an impulsive step forward. “You’re not hurt?”

“Of course not, Jeremy. I’m fine,” Thea said, surprised. Was he actually concerned? But then, it was perfectly proper to be concerned about a friend.

“It was awful, Daddy,” Gillian said, her eyes large and round.

“I’m all right, and so is Maggie.” Thea smiled down at Gillian and ruffled her hair. “I must go change. I’ll see you at dinner, Jeremy.”

“Yes. Thea.”

She turned from the stairs. “Yes?”

He shook his head, an odd little smile upon his face. “Nothing,” he said, and Thea continued on her way. She loved him. Oh, how she loved him, and he would never be hers.

 

“Miss Powell! Hold up, there!”

Evadne, strolling through the garden, turned and saw Francis, on the other side of the hedge. She started to smile, to raise her hand in welcome, but then a little imp of mischief caught her and she began to run instead. This was fun! Much better than staying in that stuffy old house and listening to Mama prose on about her responsibilities once she married. As to her fiancé, she rarely saw him, which didn’t bother her. He treated her as a child, not the woman she knew she was.

“Evadne!” Francis called. Evadne let out a giggle and lifted her skirts, giving him an entrancing sight of a neatly-turned ankle as she ran. She could hear him pounding along behind her, and almost imperceptibly she slowed her steps. It was quite thrilling when he suddenly caught at her arm, bringing her to a halt.

“I say!” He stared down at her. “Whatever made you run like that?”

“Oh, it’s you, sir!” she exclaimed, opening her eyes very wide.

“Yes, who did you think?”

“I didn’t know.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “La, sir, you gave me such a start!”

Francis made a sudden move toward her, as if to comfort her, and then the corners of his lips twitched. They twitched again, and suddenly, he was laughing. Evadne stared at him a moment in chagrin, but his laugh was infectious. She joined in, her eyes sparkling up at him. “You, miss, are a minx,” Francis said with mock severity as he took her arm firmly in his. “I see through you, you know.”

“I know,” she said as they strolled along, wondering why she wasn’t displeased. No one had ever seen through her before. It should have been disconcerting. “You are ever so much nicer than Stanton about it. He just frowns at me, or ignores me.”

“And which is worse, I wonder?”

“Oh, ignoring me, by all means. Something I am persuaded you would never do, sir.”

“No. Evadne.” He stopped, grasping her shoulders and turning her to face him. “What do you see in him?”

“In Stanton?” Evadne tilted her head to the side, pretending to consider. “Why, he is wonderfully handsome, sir, do you not think so? And, of course, he is a viscount,” she went on, ignoring his gathering frown. “I know he’s not wealthy, precisely, else he wouldn’t be marrying me, but he does have all those lovely estates—”

“Stop it.” Francis gave her a little shake, and she stared up at him, her eyes genuinely wide now. “He doesn’t love you. What does all that matter, against that?”

Evadne tossed her head. “As I don’t love him, I expect we shall suit very well.”

“Stop it,” he said again, and pulled her ruthlessly against him, smothering her words with his lips. Evadne made a little sound, of protest, of compliance, but she didn’t struggle.

“Why, Mr. Thorne!” She stared up at him when he at last released her. “Such a thing to do!” And she threw her arms enthusiastically around his neck. Francis was not about to refuse such an ardent invitation, and they stood, entwined, for what felt like eternity.

“You’ll marry me,” he said, when at last they separated and she was standing with her head resting on his shoulder.

“I will?” She pulled back, the light of mischief dancing in her eyes again. “Have I any say in the matter?”

“No.” Francis tightened his grip, so that she could barely breathe. “None.”

“You have no money and no prospects,” she pointed out.

“Damn, don’t you think I realize that? But if I could find someone to sponsor me I’d gladly stand for Parliament, and make something of my life.”

Evadne’s eyes brightened. “Oh, do you enjoy politics, sir? I’ve tried to talk to Stanton about it once or twice, but he ignores me.”

“You would like to be a political wife, Evadne?”

“Perhaps.” Her smile was tantalizing, filled with the headiness of the moment. He was hers, and she couldn’t resist teasing him just a little, goading him to say the one thing he had yet to say. “Perhaps I prefer Stanton.”

Francis’s face darkened. “You don’t.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I do.”

“Damn it, Evadne!” He released her so fast that she stumbled backwards. “What game is this you play with me?’

“Oh, Francis!” She held out her hand, but his back was to her, and he didn’t see. “No game. I merely want you to—”

“Have a title and a great deal of money,” he said, bitterly.

“Well, they would be nice,” she said, candidly, and he gave her such a hard look that she hurried on. “But they don’t matter to me anymore, Francis, really they don’t! I have piles of money, and as for a title—”

“You want to be a lady. By God, I thought I knew you.” He stared at her, breathing heavily. “I thought there was more to you than you let anyone see, and now I’m beginning to wonder. Was I wrong?”

“No! Francis, there is more to me, but you don’t understand. I’m betrothed to Stanton, and—”

“And is that the way you want it?”

Joy shot through Evadne; she knew what he was saying. He was hers! Giddy with happiness, again she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, and Francis drew himself up.

“That won’t do,” he said, sternly. “I want an answer from you, Evadne.”

“Well, he is a viscount—”

“That tears it,” he said, and turned on his heel.

“Francis!” She picked up her skirts and ran after him, alarmed now. Too late she realized she’d gone too far. “I didn’t mean it—”

“Go marry your viscount, Evadne,” he said, not breaking his stride. “I see I was wrong about you, after all.”

“No! Francis!” she cried. Of course she would marry him. She loved him. He paused for a moment, but then continued on, walking away from her, walking out of her life.

Evadne sank down to the ground on knees no longer strong enough to support her, watching him until he had disappeared around the corner of the house. “But you never said you love me,” she said, and burst into tears.

 

Jeremy was just coming down the stairs into the hallway some mornings later when the front door opened, and Thea came in. “I’ll just see if your father’s busy—oh. Jeremy. There you are.”

“Yes.” He crossed to her, smiling. Something had happened in his house in the last few days. Evadne, pleading a headache, was keeping to her room in a perpetual sulk; Francis went around with a dark look on his face, hardly speaking to anyone; and, worst of all, Thea avoided him completely. Evadne and Francis weren’t his concern, but Thea was. If he could not get her to stay with him for more than a few moments, how could he tell her how he felt? And how could he possibly do it in such a way so that she realized that he was not again trying to entice her into an affaire? He would have to break it off with Evadne, he thought suddenly, raising his chin. No matter the scandal, no matter the stain on his honor. Better that than to marry her, and make so many people unhappy.

“I haven’t seen much of you the last few days,” he said, stopping in front of her and smiling.

“Yes, well, I’ve been busy.” Thea’s tone was unconvincing as she looked down, her fingers pleating the skirt of her gown. “I’ve something to show you, though, outside. Have you a moment?”

“For you, Thea, I have more than a moment.” She gave him a startled look as he took her arm, escorting her out the door. “In fact, if you would come inside afterwards and talk with me—”

“Perhaps,” Thea broke in, pulling away from him. “This is important. Pay attention, mind.”

“Yes, Thea. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Stand right there.” She moved away, stopping on the bottom stair, and Jeremy looked around, seeing only the lawn and a milky-white sky. “All right, Gillian! We’re ready.”