‘You only ever wanted me because of how I look,’ she accused so softly he could barely hear her. ‘And don’t twit me on being vain, because it’s more of a trial than a blessing. Men have wanted me since before I left the schoolroom because of my fortune and a set of even features, but I was always more than that to Magnus—would I could say the same for you.’
‘Marry him, then,’ he said harshly, secretly hurt she thought him wanting and why wouldn’t she when Magnus was worth a dozen of him?
She sighed and shook her head. ‘Do try listening for once,’ she said as if she was running out of patience. ‘Magnus confided in me, and if you can’t trust my word we should not wed, ask him to do the same for you.’
‘You could marry me,’ he heard himself say as if his voice was coming from a great distance.
‘Because you kissed me once and feel guilty? No, thank you. I wouldn’t marry now unless I was so deep in love I couldn’t help myself, which means I shall never marry because I don’t want to be in love.’
‘Perhaps you won’t have a choice, but you wouldn’t wed a bastard even if you loved me from head to foot, would you? Miss Alstone of Wychwood and the by-blow of an erring countess? Unthinkable.’
‘I would dislike you if you had a ducal coronet, vast numbers of houses and thousands of acres to your name. Being housed and fed by a vindictive man during your early years has bent you out of shape, Mr FitzDevelin. Maybe Lord Carrowe isn’t the tolerant, sophisticated gentleman the polite world think him, but you’re not either.’
‘I hope you don’t mean he raised me in his own image.’
‘No, but I think you became hard and angry in order to survive his harsh regime and you shouldn’t let him shape your view of the world.’
‘You have no idea how it feels to be blamed for anything amiss in your family’s life.’
‘My sister Kate and I were left in our great-aunt and cousin’s hands as small children. I doubt there’s much your stepfather could teach them about humiliating those too small or poor to thumb their noses and walk away. You ran as soon as you were old enough, didn’t you? I can’t tell you how we would have envied you the strength and cunning to survive in the wider world when we were to blame for anything that went wrong at Wychwood before our brother-in-law inherited it.’
Wulf felt his heart lurch at the thought of tiny, defiant Isabella surviving such a harsh regime. She ought to have been doted on and valued from the moment she was born, as the outgoing and confident children on the other side of this coolly peaceful garden obviously were. He itched to drag the hags who inflicted such cruelty on two little girls to the nearest Bridewell and show them how it felt to be whipped and humiliated until tears and pleas sank into despair and your only refuge was unconsciousness. He’d sworn as a boy never to lay violent hands on a woman or child, so he’d have to trust the Earl of Carnwood to make sure those harpies never had control of a child’s life again and reminded himself the Alstone sisters were nothing to do with him, then or now.
‘You do understand, then,’ he admitted gruffly.
‘I do, but we were rescued by my eldest sister’s godmama after she spent a year or two nagging my grandfather to send us to school so persistently he gave in to get some peace. Then Miranda married Kit and we had a fine governess and all the love we were starved of when Miranda left and my brother died. So Kate and I only had a few years of being wronged before our older sister and brother-in-law showered us with enough love and attention to make up for that time.’
‘Those women left their mark on you,’ he argued quietly and at least now he knew why she held herself a little aloof in case she met gleeful spite in a stranger’s eye or saw a bully under their skin.
‘Not as big as the one your stepfather left on you,’ she countered.
‘He doesn’t rule my life; I won’t let him.’
‘Then if you get over this conviction you know what’s best for your brother and anyone else you care about, we might get on better.’
‘We might, except Magnus is still miserable and you’re still here. Relations between us won’t improve until you change that situation.’
‘Here we go again, so it’s probably as well my brother-in-law is about to interrupt us.’
‘Damn it, I’m not done.’
‘Well, I am and here he comes anyway. Go back to London and talk to your half-brother before you blunder into any more private homes without an invitation. If you tell Magnus half the wrong-headed nonsense you spouted at me, I’m sure he’ll confide before you dash about the countryside doing more damage.’
Two purposeful males were striding ever closer and she was pushing him aside as if he was a problem she’d confronted and solved. Except Wulf felt more like an arsenal of gunpowder ready to blow with the smallest spark. He wouldn’t be going away satisfied he could now forget Miss Alstone’s vital beauty, acute mind and waspish tongue as if he’d never met her one hot and spellbound August night.
* * *
‘Papa, Papa, we’re over here,’ little Kit shouted as if he and his sister must be more important than any mysterious stranger.
‘Mr Fitz-something helped him catch up with me,’ Sophia informed her father with an exasperated look at her brother, as if she already knew he wouldn’t get the rebuke she half-wanted him to have for spoiling her adventure.
‘And your mother has a great deal to say about you setting him a bad example twice in one day, so I’d keep quiet about his sins if I were you,’ her father told her gently as he sat young Kit on his shoulders. ‘Did you invite FitzDevelin here, Shuttleworth?’ Sir Hugh Kenton asked very coolly indeed and Wulf no longer wondered how the man kept six children almost in order. He had an urge to go and stand in a corner until he’d learnt how to behave himself and he was supposed to be grown-up.
‘No,’ Lord Shuttleworth said baldly.
Wulf felt as if his fur was being rubbed the wrong way, but he couldn’t accuse either of them of the sort of lazy prejudice his stepfather lived by. They clearly disliked him for his own sake and never mind the bed he shouldn’t have been born in.
‘Mr FitzDevelin is on his way into Wales and has called in to pass on a message from his mother, Edmund,’ Miss Alstone said as she rashly stepped in to protect him from making a very sudden exit with the force of a gentleman’s boot to speed him on his way.
‘How unexpected of her ladyship to send you as her envoy, FitzDevelin,’ the Viscount Shuttleworth said blandly.
‘And how invisible her letter is, too,’ Wulf thought he heard Sir Hugh mutter as if he’d been looking forward to throwing the unwanted guest out for his whatever he and Lord Shuttleworth were to one another. Brother-in-law; cousin-by-marriage? Whatever complex relation his lordship was to Sir Hugh Kenton, the Alstone clan moved as one formidable whole when threatened. How Wulf wished his own family were so uncomplicated.
‘I suppose your horse has had a short rest, Mr FitzDevelin, so you can be on your way to Brecon again,’ Isabella said as if a mythical journey would save him from her relatives’ protective wrath.
Tempted to argue he had nowhere else to go just for the hell of it, Wulf obliged with a silent bow because he didn’t feel like lying outright to these two aristocrats.
‘A shame we can’t put you up for the night, FitzDevelin, but I must be inhospitable,’ Lord Shuttleworth said as if he was only mildly amused by playing host to such an unwelcome