Regency High Society Vol 5: The Disgraced Marchioness / The Reluctant Escort / The Outrageous Debutante / A Damnable Rogue

The baby opened his eyes. Deep amethyst, fringed with dark lashes.

Henry held out his hand, drawn impossibly against his will to touch, to savour. The baby chuckled and clutched, delighted with the company, making contact in his small fist, drawing the offered fingers to his mouth to gnaw on them with half-formed teeth.

Henry’s chest tightened, he found it difficult to swallow. His son. And Eleanor’s. Whom he had rejected.

Oh, God!

What could he possibly say to Eleanor? She had borne this beautiful child alone, without him. He mentally thanked Thomas from the bottom of his heart for coming to her salvation. Knowing his brother as he did, he understood exactly what Thomas had done and why he had done it. Married Eleanor to give her the shelter of his name and consequence, so that no one need know that she had borne a child without the protection of marriage vows, and his brother’s child would have all the benefits of being brought up as the Faringdon heir. Henry breathed hard against the flood of emotion that threatened to unman him, longing for that one impossible opportunity to tell Thomas of his gratitude.

And he had accused Eleanor of treachery and betrayal, of luring Thomas into a marriage to satisfy her greed and ambition. Nothing could be further from the truth.

But why had she not come to meet him, to join him on the voyage? If she had, their marriage would have legitimised the child and all the following complications would never have arisen. He would probably never know.

He stroked his hand gently over his son’s hair, cupping his cheek, caressing the perfect fingers, the shell-like nails. Then turned and left the room, as quietly as he had come, with nothing resolved

‘Does Eleanor know?’ Nick broke into his uncomfortable musings, concerned for the stark misery in his brother’s eyes.

‘Yes.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Nothing of importance.’ Henry shrugged and switched his focus back to Nick, replacing the inscrutable mask. ‘Why?

Well! Nicholas hesitated, remembering. That was one statement palpably untrue if Hal’s face, bleak with shock as he had exited the morning room after his conversation with Eleanor, was anything to go by. But should he interfere further? ‘Nothing. Just that I had thought that you were not…not indifferent to each other.’ Nicholas made his decision, for better or worse, and came to sit opposite the desk, to fix Hal with a stern expression. ‘To put it bluntly, I had thought that you were more than half in love with her. That is, until whatever passed between the two of you yesterday afternoon in the morning room.’ He waited the space of a heartbeat, seeing the shutters come down on any emotion in his brother’s face. ‘You are free to deny any or all of it if you wish, of course.’

‘Ha! I wish I were free.’ The words were wrung from Henry.

‘What should I understand by that?’

‘Nothing! Nothing at all!.’ Hal sighed and drove his fingers through his hair. ‘Yes, I love her. Of course I do. How can I deny it? I love her and I always will, even though I have hurt her beyond belief.’

‘So why are you leaving her? Have you told her that you love her?’

‘No.’

‘I also thought Nell loved you. Is it because she is Thomas’s widow that you have not spoken? I don’t see that it has any bearing on your feelings for her or hers for you.’ He frowned as he remembered their previous conversation. ‘Is that why you asked me if theirs had been a love match?’

‘Not really. There were other reasons at the time… But I have destroyed any hope of her love,’ Hal answered quietly. ‘She will never forgive me.’

‘It can’t be as bad as that.’

‘It can—you have no idea!’ I questioned the birth of her child. I accused her of every sin possible. I humiliated her.

‘Are you going to tell me?’

‘No. My feelings do not matter. Her life is here with the child. I have nothing to offer her. And—you cannot have thought…’ Hal’s face was bleak indeed ‘…there can never be any future between myself and Eleanor of that nature that has the blessing of the law. The church, little brother, in its infinite wisdom, denies the right of a man to marry his brother’s widow.’

‘I did not know…’

‘Oh, we could find a minister easily enough, who would turn a blind eye and commit the deed. Particularly if we greased his hand with sufficient gold. Perhaps even the Reverend Julius Broughton could be persuaded on such terms!’ His laugh was a harsh travesty. ‘But anyone with ill intent or outraged morality could have such a union declared null and void. Imagine the scandal that would create! I will not do it, even if Eleanor would contemplate such a relationship between us. Which she would not, not after…’ He shook his head and lapsed into silence.

‘I see. I had not thought of that.’ Nicholas decided to leap into the yawning chasm of Henry’s reticence, to risk an outbreak of the banked temper in his brother’s eyes. It would not be the first time that he had pushed and provoked until he had goaded his brother into disclosing what was on his mind. He might risk a firm and horribly accurate straight right to the jaw—a not infrequent retaliation in childhood when tempers had run high—but Nicholas was quite capable of holding his own, and it would be worth it if he could draw some of the pain from Hal’s set expression.

‘Look, Hal. I am not blind. To put it bluntly, the love between the two of you is as clear as a rising hawk at noonday. It shimmers between you when you are together in the same room.’ He saw the glint of denial leap into his brother’s eyes and stretched out a hand across the desk to grasp his wrist in strong fingers. ‘Don’t bother to deny it. She is as much in thrall as you. Why not simply take her with you? Marry her in New York where the family connection is not a matter of public knowledge. Surely it is better than committing yourselves to a lifetime of misery apart?’ He hesitated, tensed his shoulders. He might as well say it. ‘Do you have to be so damned noble?’

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