He took his mother’s hand in his and leaned to kiss her cheek. The familiar lavender scent washed through him followed by the same calm she’d instilled in him as an angry and confused boy.
‘Thank you,’ he murmured.
‘And so Miss Bracewell goes to Italy alone.’
Robert felt a faint prickle of unease at the back of his neck. ‘That was her plan.’
‘You are not putting her aside because you think her unworthy? Because she was born on the wrong side of the blanket?’ Mother asked a little hesitantly.
He stiffened at the faint tone of censure in her voice. ‘Good God, no! I—well, to put it bluntly, she is far above my touch, and I won’t be a parasite.’
Mother smiled sadly. ‘My proud, beautiful boy.’
Robert felt as if he’d missed something. ‘Snively will make sure she is safe.’
A crease developed between her fine brows. ‘I am surprised at you though, Robert, seducing an innocent and then abandoning her.’
His cheeks stung as if she had slapped him across the face. ‘You are wrong, Mother. I was not her first lover.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘What the hell do you think I am? She told me…’ Damn it, what had she said? I’m not so very innocent. ‘Frederica was not a maid when I met her.’ His face fired scarlet. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his mother. ‘A man knows these things.’
‘But Robert, you also know she quite often rides astride, like a boy.’
The truth hit him like a body blow. Shock jarred him off kilter.
His mother looked at him silently, her lips pursed.
Dear God. He’d seduced an innocent. He really was a blackguard. ‘I have to go.’
She raised a brow. ‘I should think you do. But, Robert, a piece of advice. Pride and love don’t make good bedmates.’
And with that incomprehensible admonition ringing in his ears he kissed her and left.
Sitting at the table in her private parlour, Frederica jabbed her fork into the roast beef on her plate, lifted it to her mouth, and then put it down again. She just didn’t feel hungry.
She left the table and moved to the sofa by the hearth. The sofa where she’d sat just the other night in Robert’s arms. She’d been so contented, secure. Without him, she would never have been brave enough to face the lawyer. So why did she now feel so uneasy? The worst was over.
Wealthy beyond her wildest imaginings, she could do anything she wanted. Snively had hired a maid for her and a lady’s companion to accompany them on their journey. The old man had beamed when she asked him to go with her as her major domo. Everything was perfect.
Or it would be if Robert hadn’t walked way.
Because he wanted his freedom.
Maggie had kindly told her a little bit about his past. The parade of women through his life. She was just one of many. He was a rake.
The piper must be paid. Or was it no good crying over spilt milk? He didn’t want her. He’d said so in front of everyone.
She sighed and gazed at the trunks standing in the middle of the parlour floor all packed and ready to go at any moment.
A knock came at the door.
The man for the trunks.
She went to the door and unlocked it.
‘R-Robert?’
He looked so handsome in his gentleman’s clothing, dark blue coat and cream waistcoat and newly shaved.
‘May I come in? We need to talk,’ he said grimly. He inhaled a quick breath as if he had something unpleasant to say. ‘I just left my mother.’
She backed away cautiously. ‘W-what is it?’
‘There is something I have to ask you. I want the truth.’
She perched on the sofa’s edge, wary, uncomfortable. ‘What did you want to know?’
He kept her hand clasped in his. ‘Were you indeed a virgin before we met?’
His mother had betrayed her confidence. A confidence the formidable lady had extracted with a cleverness that had left Frederica in awe. But her Grace had promised to say nothing to her son.
‘She had no right to tell you.’
He drew in a sharp breath. He looked appalled. ‘We must be married right away.’
Married. Her heart gave a happy little lurch. Her gaze took in the tightness of his mouth, the darkness in his eyes, and she knew it would be a mistake.
She attempted a laugh. It sounded brittle instead of light and carefree. ‘La, this is sudden, my lord. Such a declaration.’
He glowered. ‘On my honour, I must make this right.’
‘Must?’ She’d spoken to him of love and he spoke of honour. She pulled her hand from his grasp. ‘Why must you?’
‘It is obvious. I took your innocence. I can do nothing else.’
‘I was never an innocent, Robert. I have eyes in my head. I saw the beasts in the fields. I can read. I knew what men looked like and what happens between a man and woman.’
‘Good God, woman, it doesn’t matter what you knew. I debauched you. It is my duty.’
‘Duty?’ The word was a shriek in her head. It hurt worse than years of hearing her family’s horrid slights. She lifted her chin and put chill in her voice. ‘Why is it your duty to marry the daughter of the Wynchwood Whore?’
‘That has nothing to do with it.’
‘Did the thought of the money make you change your mind?’ she said cruelly, knowing it would hurt him as much as he was hurting her.
‘I don’t want a penny of your damned money.’
‘To hell with duty, then. I don’t need your name to make me respectable.’ She clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and turned her face away. ‘My wealth will do that. I will never marry. I’ll take my pleasure where I want and with whom I want. The way my mother did.’
He flinched. ‘You can’t mean that.’
Drawing in a breath to garner every ounce of her strength, she turned to look at him. ‘Yes, R-Robert. I do. Think back. I wanted you. I seduced you. Now, I don’t want you any more. Surely you of all people can understand?’
A muscle in his jaw flickered. There was anger in his eyes and something else. Anguish? Surely not. The pain in her chest grew so bad she thought she might fall to her knees, but she must not, for then he would know what it cost her to send him away. He’d know and he’d try to change her mind.
To tie the man she loved to her in wedlock against his will, knowing he didn’t love her…It didn’t bear thinking about.
Frederica got up and went to the door of her adjoining bedroom, unable to look at his beautiful face in case she weakened. Hand on the doorknob, she spoke quietly, calmly. ‘I must ask you to leave. Please, do not come here again. I will not see you.’
She went inside and shut the door.
She stood rigid and shaking on the other side. No tears. No sobbing. He mustn’t guess how much she was wounded.
After a moment or two, she heard the outside door close.
He’d be glad she refused him. Later.
He’d be thankful for his escape.
She sank down on to