Chapter Twenty-Nine – To Speak the Truth
Instead of seated across from his wife in the carriage, Tristan chose to sit beside her, sliding his arm around her shoulders as soon as the doors closed and the carriage rattled off. “You’ve quite improved as a dancer,” he whispered in her ear, enjoying the feel of her warm body against his. “You seemed to have no trouble tonight.”
A smile lit up her face as she turned to him, her hand gently coming to rest on his cheek. “I dreamed of waltzing with you,” she whispered. “It was truly wonderful.”
“It was,” he echoed as his eyes strayed from hers down to her lips and his hands tightened on her pulling her even closer.
She drew in a shaky breath and raised her chin, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip as a smile came to her face. “I admit I was fairly distracted from the moment you took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. I barely noticed anything else around me.”
“Neither did I,” he whispered, slowly leaning closer. However, before his mouth could claim hers, he saw a dark cloud flash over her face. Frowning, Tristan sat back. “Is something wrong?”
Meeting his eyes, she took a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, I do not want to speak of it, and yet, I know I must.”
“Speak of what?” The look of regret in her eyes sent a cold chill down his spine.
“Of what I’ve learnt tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Confused, Tristan searched her face. Despite the sadness that rested in her eyes, they shone with determination.
Inhaling deeply, she raised her chin once more. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and then, before he could ask, added, “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news.” Tristan swallowed. “Tonight, I’ve overheard something that I know will cause you pain, but in the end, lies serve no one. Only the truth will lead to a happy life.”
Tristan frowned as his hands grew cold. “What have you overheard? And who?”
“Your uncle.”
Slowly, like water flowing out through a sieve, the sense of joy and gratification that had grown in his heart throughout the evening left his body, replaced by a sense of foreboding, a feeling he was awfully familiar with. “What did he say?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.
Beth swallowed, reluctance to share what she had learnt evident on her face. “He spoke to a number of guests tonight,” she began, her eyes holding his as though cautiously watching him, trying to glimpse his reaction. “He expressed his regret that you seem to become more like your father every day.”
Tristan flinched as though she had just slapped him across the face.
At his reaction, her eyes softened, her words, however, continued. “He said that your fits of anger are becoming uncontrollable and that he fears you will soon end like your father.”
Gritting his teeth, Tristan closed his eyes. “Why?” he growled out as every muscle in his body tensed. “Why would you say that about him?”
At his accusation, she swallowed. However, her gaze remained steady. “Because it is the truth. Because I believe you need to know.”
“Why would he say that?” Tristan snapped, unwilling to relinquish the feeling of acceptance and approval he had finally received. “He wouldn’t! He held tonight’s ball in our honour. He put aside his objections because he cares. He even admitted that he had been wrong to judge you so quickly.” Shaking his head, Tristan stared at her. “Tell me why he would say that!”
Beth shrugged. “I do not know. I do not yet understand why−”
“No, you don’t understand,” Tristan snapped, wishing they were not trapped in such a confined space. Growling under his breath, he pushed himself to his feet and sank onto the bench opposite his wife. “You misunderstood,” he finally said, nodding his head in emphasis. “My uncle has always tried his best to set me on the right path, and although we’ve not always gotten along, I am truly grateful for his efforts.” Holding her gaze, Tristan knew without a doubt that she disagreed. “You don’t know him.”
“Do you?”
As he opened his mouth to reply, the carriage rumbled to a stop, and a moment later, the door was opened.
“We’ve arrived, my lord,” the footman said, lowering the steps.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tristan stepped down onto the pavement, then reluctantly held out his hand to assist his wife. As they climbed the stoop to their front door, Tristan could barely contain his emotions as they tore at his heart. Why did she have to say this? Why did she have to ruin the evening? Everything had been perfect! So perfect!
When the doors had finally closed behind them and they had put a little distance between them and the footmen, Tristan spun around. “Why could you not simply leave this alone?”
Drawing in a deep breath, his wife took a step toward him, her eyes narrowing as she held back her own temper. “Did you want me to lie?”
Tristan gritted his teeth.
“Is it not my duty as your wife to inform you of such things?” Holding his gaze, she stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on the front of his shirt. “You’re my husband, and I want to see you happy, truly happy, not trapped in a false happiness that can be snatched away at any moment.”
Gritting his teeth, Tristan shook his head and took a step backwards. “I don’t want to hear this!”
Her fingers curled into his shirt, not allowing him to escape as she sought his gaze. “But you must, Tristan. You must.” Her eyes widened slightly as she held his gaze, imploring him to believe her. “Your uncle does not have your best interest at heart. Whatever his reasons are, what he does only serves him, not you. You cannot trust him. He is not a friend.”
Tristan sighed, “But he’s my family.”
Measured footsteps echoed to his ear from behind. “But he doesn’t deserve to be,” Derek spoke from the shadows, his voice calm and controlled.
Slowly, Tristan turned around, his face aghast as he stared at his friend.
“It is true.” Derek nodded, his gaze momentarily shifting to Beth before he stepped closer. “Your uncle seeks to poison those around you against you.”
“Why?” Tristan snapped, his gaze shifting back and forth between his wife and his friend. “He has no reason to do so. All my life, he has berated me to conduct myself like a gentleman and not bring shame to the family. If he ruins my reputation, he’ll also ruin his own. After all, we are family.”
When Derek opened his mouth to speak, Tristan shook his head. Pushing his wife’s hands off him, he stepped back. “I don’t want to hear any more of these lies,” he hissed, their words like knives to his heart. Then he turned around and hurried back out the way they had come.
He could not stay.
Not when his world was crumbling around him.
***
Watching her husband leave, Beth drew in a deep breath, her heart aching with the pain she had seen on his face. “Ought I not have spoken to him of this?” she whispered to herself, doubt clouding her mind as she remembered the moment she had learnt of her mother’s secrets. Never had she felt so abandoned and betrayed, utterly alone in the world, unsure who to believe and who to trust.
“You did right.” Stepping forward, Lord Ainsworth met her eyes, his own calculating for a moment before he seemed to relax. “He had to hear it. I always knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep this from him forever.”
“What do you mean?” Beth asked, a frown drawing down her brows as she studied Lord Ainsworth’s face. “You know about his uncle’s scheme to ruin his reputation?”
Lord Ainsworth sighed, “I’m afraid it is far more serious than that.”
“What have you discovered?” Feeling her skin hum with the need to act, Beth stepped closer, her eyes fixed on his dark gaze.
“Very little, I’m afraid.” Holding her gaze for a moment, he seemed to consider what to share. However, then he drew in a deep breath and almost imperceptibly nodded his head. Taking her by the elbow, he escorted her into the drawing room, then closed the doors behind them. “For a while now, I’ve suspected that his uncle seeks to destroy him,” his gaze hardened as he held hers, “him, not merely his reputation.”
Beth’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Are you saying he seeks to…?” Staring at her husband’s friend, Beth could not bring herself to speak the words. Too awful their contemplation.
Gesturing for her to sit, Lord Ainsworth waited before seating himself across from her. “I’ve known Tristan for years and have only ever known his uncle to disapprove of him no matter what he did or how hard he tried.” Shaking his head, he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It is fairly difficult to gain a favourable opinion of oneself if the people closest to one believes one to be a failure at life.”
Closing her eyes, Beth remembered the many moments when her husband had seemed almost terrified of making a mistake. Despite her mother’s secrets and the lies that had changed Beth’s life forever, she had always been cherished, loved and above all raised to believe that she was a good person. Her self-esteem was not built on shaky ground in danger of being swallowed up by the earth when next it shook. Doubts, insecurities and fears were a part of life, and they could only be dealt with if one were not at odds with oneself, if one could stand tall.
Mr. Turner had never allowed his nephew that experience.
“But why?” Beth whispered, returning from her contemplations. Turning her gaze back to Lord Ainsworth, she shook her head. “Why would his uncle seek to ruin Tristan? I cannot make sense of it.”
Her husband’s friend shrugged. “I cannot say for certain. It is only a hunch for the man secretly seems to delight in all the scrapes Tristan has gotten in over the years as though it was all part of some elaborate plan.” His lips thinned as he clasped his hands together, tension marking his face. “Once, when Tristan almost died after a duel, I swear that the look on his uncle’s face spoke of nothing but regret and disappointment that he had survived.”
As her hands trembled at the contemplation how close her husband had come to death, Beth drew in a deep breath, seeking to steady her nerves. “But to what end?” she mumbled, her mind racing. “What would he gain from−?” Her eyes went wide as they snapped up to meet Lord Ainsworth’s dark gaze. “His title!” Beth gasped, her hands gripping her knees painfully. “The estate…everything.”
Slowly, Lord Ainsworth nodded his head. “I do believe that is the reason. Unfortunately, I cannot prove anything, and as you’ve seen tonight, Tristan is far from able to accept the truth. He would never have believed me. There was nothing I could do.” He sighed. “Nothing but keep him safe as best as I could.”
“You’ve been following him, haven’t you?” Beth whispered when another puzzle piece fell into place. “All these years, you’ve been watching his back, haven’t you? Why? Why would you give up your whole life to protect him?”
Lord Ainsworth swallowed as distant memories clouded his eyes. “I have a sister,” he whispered, his voice calm, and yet, something powerful lurked behind his words. “A few years ago, she found herself…in need of assistance.” He swallowed, clearly unwilling to say more. “It was Tristan who helped her when she had no one else to turn to. He never demanded anything in return or sought compensation. He did it out of the goodness of his heart.” As his hands clenched and unclenched, Lord Ainsworth exhaled slowly. “I went to see him to express my gratitude. He was just then leaving an event and walked into a rather uncommon neighbourhood considering his status. It wasn’t long before he was attacked.”
“You saved him,” Beth whispered, finally understanding the devotion she had always seen in Lord Ainsworth’s eyes. He was a loyal man, who would see his sister’s debt repaid…even if it took him all his life.
“But it wasn’t enough,” Lord Ainsworth growled out, his jaw clenched. “Again and again, strange things happened that drew him farther and farther away from the life he should lead. He got lost.” His dark eyes shifted to hers, and Beth could see a deeper understanding in them. Her husband’s friend new exactly of what he spoke. “After the third time, I began to investigate. Unfortunately, that proved rather difficult. Although I mentioned my suspicion that someone was orchestrating these events to Tristan a long time ago, he always laughed about them, saying that it was only his own bad luck and I shouldn’t think too much about them.”
“But you did.”
He nodded. “How could I not?” Drawing in a deep breath, he shook his head. “I know that it is difficult to view one’s own life from an objective perspective. However, Tristan is strangely determined not to think about it, not to consider anything remotely troubling. Sometimes I think he might suspect as well, but refuses to acknowledge his own doubts because he could not bear to see them revealed as true.” His hands clenched and unclenched as he spoke, a deep frustration radiating off him after years of watching his friend walk a fine line between life and death. “From the few things Tristan told me, I know that he and his sister used to be very close. However, in recent years, they’ve drifted apart, and I do not doubt that it was his uncle’s doing. He’s isolating Tristan, leaving him alone and defenceless.” His eyes met hers. “But now, there’s you.”
A proud smile came to Beth’s face. “Yes, now there’s me. Are you saying that his uncle disapproved of our marriage because he wished for Tristan to remain without emotional support? Without someone who would help him see the truth?”
Lord Ainsworth swallowed, a touch of unease in his eyes. “I suppose that’s part of the reason.”
Beth frowned. “What other reason could−?” She stopped mid-sentence, and her eyes widened as they became distant for an instant and then shifted back to Lord Ainsworth. “He’s afraid I will give Tristan an heir.”
Lord Ainsworth nodded.
Gritting her teeth, Beth found sudden anger claim her heart, and her hands balled into fists. “Damn that man!” she cursed, shooting to her feet, unable to keep still. “I knew I disliked that man for a reason as apparently he dislikes me for a very specific reason as well.” As she began to pace the length of the room, Lord Ainsworth’s gaze followed her, a hint of surprise in his dark eyes. However, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly in amusement as well as appreciation.
Spinning on her heel, Beth strode toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Do you suppose his uncle suggested to Tristan not to share my bed for that reason?” Standing up tall, she rested her hands on her hips, her eyes ablaze with fury as she shook her head. “I knew there was something else. He always seemed so reluctant, not because he didn’t want to but rather…as though he knew he should not. For the life of me, I could not understand why.”
A soft chuckle escaped Lord Ainsworth’s lips as he watched her with rapt attention, and Beth could see that her sudden outburst surprised him. “I do believe that’s a fair assessment,” he confirmed before he rose to his feet. “Wait here,” he instructed, drawing her trembling hands into his, his warm gaze urging her to remain calm. “Should he return, speak to him. Insist that he listen. He needs to understand the precariousness of his situation.”
Taking a deep breath, Beth nodded. “What will you do?”
“I shall find him,” he said, determination in his voice as he stepped toward the door. “Who knows what his uncle has planned next.” For a moment, he held her gaze. “Do not worry. Together we shall see him safe.”
Grateful, Beth nodded before Lord Ainsworth walked out the door. She could only hope that he would find Tristan in time, that his uncle had not planned anything for this very night.