Chapter Thirty-One – The Ties of Family
Pacing the window front of the drawing room as she had for the past two hours, Beth glanced up and down the dark street.
Nothing.
Every time the soft breeze moved a branch on the trees outside, her breath caught in her throat. Every time a lone carriage rumbled by, her heart stopped in anticipation. Every time the moon’s silvery light was reflected off some unseen object and caught her eye, she almost lost her nerve and made for the door.
However, it was always nothing.
Where had her husband gone? Had Lord Ainsworth found him? Had Mr. Turner had any plans for tonight? Had he gone after Tristan yet again?
When the front doors finally opened, the soft sounds of their hinges reaching Beth’s ears like a cat scratching its claws along some cobblestone, Beth spun around. Large strides carried her into the foyer, and the air rushed from her lungs as her eyes fell on her husband.
Though bruised and slightly hunched over, he smiled at her, his eyes finding hers in an instant, the relief on his face balm for her worried soul. What had happened to him?
Lord Ainsworth cleared his throat. “I suggest you get yourself to bed,” he said, stern eyes focused on Tristan. Then his gaze shifted to Beth. “Do not worry yourself, my lady. Except for a lack of instinct, there is nothing much wrong with him.”
Tristan chuckled under his breath as Beth stepped forward, her eyes on Lord Ainsworth, and placed a hand on his arm. He almost flinched, and for a moment, she thought her husband’s friend would draw his arm away. “Thank you,” she whispered, holding his gaze, wanting him to know how much he had done for her. Who knew what would have happened if he had not gone after Tristan?
“Good night,” Lord Ainsworth mumbled, then stepped away and with a last imploring look at her husband vanished into the dark.
“He is a rather unusual man, is he not?” Beth observed, knowing that she meant her words in the best possible way. “I’ve never met anyone loyal to a fault. It’s a rather uncommon trait.”
Tristan nodded, his eyes shifting over her face, a touch of awe in them. “I don’t know what I would have done without him. He found me in the nick of time. As always.”
Beth held his gaze, reading in his eyes how close he had come to an untimely end that night, and the blood grew chilled in her veins. Her hands began to tremble, and she instinctively moved toward him.
Pulling her into his arms, Tristan rested his chin against her forehead, holding her close. However, when she tightened her embrace, he winced and drew in a sharp breath.
“Are you hurt?” Stepping back, Beth searched his face, her gaze lingering on the darkening bruise on his jaw, before her hands slid over his chest as though afraid to find a bleeding injury.
“A little.” Turning toward the stairs, Tristan pulled her arm through his. “I suppose Derek is right, which, of course, is no surprise at all.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled at her. “I need some rest.” Beth nodded. “Will you come with me?” A touch of apprehension rested on his features as he looked at her, afraid that she would decline.
At the longing in his eyes, Beth felt her heart skip a beat. “Nothing could keep me from your side,” she whispered, overjoyed with the smile that lit up his features. “Come. I’ll see you to bed.”
“That sounds promising,” he chuckled as they climbed the stairs.
“My lord,” Beth chided, slapping him on the arm in jest.
Instantly, Tristan drew in a sharp breath, his shoulders drawing up in pain. “As much as I love our slightly hostile banter, I’m afraid I’m not up for it tonight.”
“Then don’t bait me,” Beth warned as she opened the door to his bedchamber and led him inside. “Now, if you would kindly sit down and take off your coat and your shirt.”
Tristan wiggled his eyebrows, and a meaningful gleam came to his eyes.
“I want to look at your injuries,” Beth replied while shaking her head at his childishness. Then she drew in a deep breath, and her face grew serious. “Tell me what happened.”
Instantly, the smile vanished from his face, and the air in the room grew heavy with dread and unspoken words. “I do not wish to alarm you.”
“I’m already alarmed,” Beth snapped, annoyed that he should think her a child, unable to handle the threat that loomed at their door. “Now, tell me.”
As he shrugged out of his coat and began to unbutton his shirt, Tristan sighed. “Quite frankly, it was nothing out of the ordinary.” When her eyebrows rose in question, he added, “I’ve told you about the disagreements I occasionally find myself in, haven’t I?”
Beth nodded, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not certain the term disagreements is a good fit here though,” she said, accepting his coat and shirt and placing them over a chair by the door. Then her eyes swept over his bare chest, and she drew in a slow breath as her gaze shifted from one bruise to the next. “You’ve been hurt like this before?”
Tristan nodded.
Apart from the occasional smaller bruise, his right shoulder looked swollen and rather dark in colour. In the dim light of the room, his skin appeared rather pale, almost sickly, and another larger bruise began to form over the right side of his ribcage.
Sitting down beside him on the bed, Beth gently took hold of his jaw and turned his head toward her, her eyes sweeping over the small cuts on his temple as well as the purple shining bruise on his jaw. “Who did this?”
Tristan drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know. Although he looked familiar, I do not know his name.”
“Why did he attack you?”
For a moment, he hesitated, his right hand finding hers. “Maybe I attacked him. Did you consider that?”
A soft smile curled up the corners of her mouth as she shook her head. “You wouldn’t.”
“How do you know?”
Her hand slid along the side of his jaw and to the back of his neck. “I simply do.” Leaning closer, she brushed her lips against his, seized by the need to feel him in her arms and against her skin.
“Beth,” he whispered, and the sound of her name sent a shiver down her back.
Then she drew back, and her eyes found his. “Tell me why he attacked you.”
“I would if I knew.”
Her brows drew together. “How could you not?”
Tristan shrugged, then winced, his left arm coming up to cup his injured shoulder. “I was sitting by myself, and then out of nowhere, his fist collided with my jaw.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
Tristan shook his head.
“That is very strange.”
“It is indeed,” he agreed, his exhaustion darkening his eyes. “However, I’ve stopped wondering about these things a long time ago. They simply are a part of my life as they tend to happen to me no matter what I do. Maybe there is something about me that riles others. I don’t know. All I do know is that without Derek, I probably would have been dead many times over.”
Beth sucked in a sharp breath at the thought. “He watches over you,” she said, whispering a silent thank-you to the man who spent his life lurking in the shadows, guarding her husband’s life.
“He does. He always seems to hover nearby.”
“That is no life,” Beth remarked, knowing that her husband needed to consider the very likely possibility that tonight’s attack had been orchestrated by his uncle. “We need to find out who’s behind this so that Lord Ainsworth can go on with his life. After all, he has an estate to look after now.”
“You’re right,” her husband agreed. “However, I do not know how. These attacks appear random. They have nothing in common that would suggest a motive other than greed.”
Beth frowned. “Greed? How do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been robbed more often than most people I know.”
Disappointed, Beth exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Then she rose to her feet and stepped up to his wardrobe. Offering him a clean shirt, she assisted him as he pulled it over his head. “What about your uncle?”
Her husband drew in a deep breath, and his eyes slowly met hers. “I am his brother’s son, why would he seek to harm me?” He shook his head, determination marking his features. “No, whatever his misgivings−justified or not−he could not have done this.”
Beth sighed, then sat down beside him once more as memories of her mother returned. “I understand that it goes against our nature to suspect that someone we care about has lied to us. However, that alone does not make it impossible.”
For a long moment, her husband looked at her, his eyes studying her face, before his hands reached out for hers. “Tell me,” he whispered then, and she could see in his eyes that he had only now realised how little he knew about the woman he had married.
Beth drew in a long breath. “I came to London after my mother died,” she began, and his hands tightened on hers. “I never knew my father, and she…she had been my whole world.” Tears came to her eyes, and Beth took another deep breath, willing herself to continue. “I was heart-broken, devastated, until…”
“Until?” he prompted as he pulled her into his arms, slightly wincing as his shoulder pained under the movement.
“Until the day of the funeral.” Remembering the day her world had become unhinged, Beth realised how distracted she had been lately. Her thoughts had rarely strayed to the lies of her past. “I looked through her belongings and found an old letter. It had never been sent, but it had the London address of the Earl of Radcliffe on it.”
Her husband’s chest rose and fell as he drew in a long breath. “And you asked to be employed there as a maid?”
Beth nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I needed to find out what had happened in her life and why she never told me. From her journal, I knew that she had left her home after some incident, but that was all I could find out.”
“And so, you came to London?”
Again, Beth nodded, experiencing a touch of relief that she finally had the chance to explain her presence in the earl’s household as well as her appearance at the masked ball. “I hoped to find someone among the earl’s staff who might remember my mother, who might tell me what had happened.”
“Did you?” her husband asked, his hand closing more firmly around her shoulder. “Did someone remember her?”
Beth sighed. “No one of the staff did, and I was close to giving up.” Lifting her head off her husband’s shoulder, Beth turned to face him. “But then I met the dowager countess, and the moment she saw me, it was clear that she knew something.”
Tristan frowned. “Had your mother been in her employ?”
Beth shook her head, and a soft smile came to her lips at the memory of the dowager’s revelation. “No, she told me that…that my mother had been the earl’s first wife.”
Her husband’s eyes opened wide.
Beth nodded. “She told me that my mother fled his country estate with me when I was about two years old.” Shrugging, she shook her head. “I never knew. My mother never mentioned anything. All she said was that my father had died shortly after I had been born.”
“I remember the stories,” her husband whispered, his eyes distant for a moment as he tried to recall the details. Then his gaze found hers once more. “But she was found dead, was she not? She and the child.” His voice broke off on the last word, and understanding washed over his features. “You’re his daughter?”
Beth nodded as tears spilt down her face for despite everything that she had told herself, it was an almost unbearable relief to have her identity acknowledged. “You mustn't tell anyone. The consequences−”
“But why?” Tristan asked, his hands curling around hers. “Why did she leave?”
“To protect me,” Beth whispered, realising in that moment the gift her mother had given her. “You know the earl,” she said, meeting his eyes and seeing the truth reflected at her. “He is not a kind man and he never was. He hurt my mother, and not only with words. He beat her whenever she displeased him. My grandmother even told me that she lost two pregnancies during that time, and that it was his fault.”
Her husband’s face had grown pale at her words as they reminded him of the ghosts of his own past.
“Your father did the same to your mother, did he not?” Beth asked, knowing his answer even before he opened his mouth.
Tristan nodded. “Of course, I don’t remember anything, but my sister told me. And then later I heard the whispers.” He swallowed, and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he fought down a wave of emotions. “She often told me that she would never bend her head to anyone. She was so afraid to appear weak, to end like our mother, that she pushed everyone away.” He shook his head and for a moment closed his eyes, pain washing over his face. “She remembered well his attacks. They taught her the meaning of fear.” Then he drew in a deep breath, and his eyes met hers. “My mother stayed,” he whispered then. “Yours left.” He nodded. “It was a wise choice.”
Beth swallowed. “Although I was angry with her in the beginning, I’ve come to realise that, too. Now, I know what she did for me, for I have seen the effect my father’s influence had on his second wife as well as my half-sister.” Lips pressed into a thin line, she shook her head. “They cower before him, afraid to speak their minds. They’re but shadows of themselves.” Nodding her head, a smile came to Beth’s lips. “My mother saw me safe. I grew up without violence, without fear. It was the greatest gift.”
***
Hearing the emotion in his wife’s voice, Tristan drew in a deep breath as they reminded him of his sister. For the only one who had ever truly meant anything to him had been her, and he knew that should he allow himself to acknowledge her rejection, it would send him to his knees.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Beth whispered, her pale blue eyes studying his face, a knowing gleam in them that almost lit up the gloomy shadows that surrounded them. And yet, it was easier to speak in the dark, for although he could see the contours of her face and the shine of her eyes as the light from the single candle on the night stand touched them, it was as though nothing else existed.
Tristan nodded his head. “I am.” A soft smile came to his lips as a memory suddenly caught him off guard. “I remember when I was little, my sister would come to my room at night and slip into bed with me. She would hold me and sing to me until I fell asleep.” The muscles in his jaw tightened. “My uncle forbade her to leave her room at night. He was…very angry when he found out, but she didn’t care. Nothing could stop her.” Again, a smile tugged at his lips, and his heart quivered. “One night, when they’d locked her door, she climbed out the window, and somehow−I don’t know how−she still found her way to my room. I felt so safe when she was near as though nothing bad could ever happen to me. She was the only one who ever truly loved me…without hesitation, without doubt, without regret.” He swallowed. “At least until these troubles started. It changed how she saw me.” He drew in a deep breath then. “I stayed away after that, for I could not bear to see disappointment in her eyes. Not in hers.”
Pulling up her legs, his wife moved closer until she almost sat on his lap, her arms gently draped around his shoulders. Her clear blue eyes l looked into his as her hands cupped his face, the pad of her thumb gently brushing over the frown lines on his forehead. “Maybe she wasn’t disappointed in the way that you think.”
Tristan frowned. “What other way could there be? I remember how she looked at me. I remember the anger that came to her eyes.”
His wife nodded knowingly. “She was scared for you,” she whispered, her voice certain as though she could see into his sister’s heart. “She loved you more than anyone, and when it looked as though you were recklessly risking your life, she was mad at you for forcing that fear on her heart.”
Tristan swallowed. Could it be true? If so, why had she never said anything?
“I never knew that I had a sister,” his wife continued, her gaze not veering from his, “and I regret that we didn’t have a chance to grow up together. For so many years, you and your sister shared each other’s life. I can only imagine what kind of bond that must create, a bond that cannot be broken.”
“But−”
“Never.” Speaking with determination, Beth gently placed a kiss on his lips before meeting his eyes once more. “Your parents’ fate changed you, moulded you, shaped who you’ve become in many ways,” she counselled, holding his head between her hands as he tried to turn away. “As affected as you are by your father’s deeds, your sister must have been affected as well. Who knows how that experience shaped her? What demons now live in her heart? Do not presume to know the whole story, Tristan, for if you let that happen, it will rob you of a future that is still waiting for you.”
Tristan swallowed, afraid to trust the soft blossom of hope unfurling in his heart. “She didn’t want me at her wedding. What other explanation could there be?”
His wife smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Did you invite her to ours?” she challenged, her eyebrows rising in question. “Or was that rather an insult to me than to her?”
Tristan opened his mouth to reply, to assure her that things were different now, but she simply shook her head, a smile on her beautiful face. “There is no need to explain, Tristan,” she assured him, putting his heart at ease. “I do understand, but you do not know what happened with your sister. You do not know why she did not send for you.”
“Maybe she wanted a new life,” he mumbled, remembering how often he had wished he could begin again and simply leave behind the sorrows of the past. “A life without me, the only reminder of a past that only brought her pain.”
“No, I do not believe that your sister would simply cut you out of her life,” Beth said with vehemence. “She loved you. That does not change. Of course, there is a reason for what happened and you need to realise that you do not know it.” Again, she nodded, her eyes imploring. “You need to speak to her and find out, or this doubt, this regret will torture you for the rest of your life. You will never know a moment of peace, of true happiness if you do not go to her and learn the truth from the one person who can tell you what happened.”
“If that were the case, then why didn’t she simply speak to me?” Tristan insisted, still afraid to trust that new sense of hope that grew with every word his wife spoke. “Why didn’t she tell me how she felt?”
Beth sighed, indulgence in her eyes as though he were a young child insisting that there were monsters under his bed. “Have you?” she countered, and once again, her brows rose in question. “Have you told her how you feel? What you’re afraid of? How your parents’ fate affected you?”
Realising the truth of her words, Tristan drew in a deep breath, his heart torn nonetheless. “I do want to see her again,” he whispered, his eyes distant as he remembered his sister’s face. “And yet, I’m afraid of what she might tell me.”
“Do you wish to remain afraid for the rest of your life?”
Holding his wife’s gaze, Tristan pressed his lips together, then closed his eyes. “No, I do not.” Once more, he met her encouraging gaze. “I need to speak to her. Maybe my uncle misunderstood. Maybe she never meant to say what he told me. Maybe there is still a chance.” A careful smile came to his face, regret marking his features. “I should never have let her go without speaking to her. I should have gone after her.”
Beth nodded. “Yes, that would probably have saved you a lot of pain.” She drew in a deep breath and snuggled closer. “But what is done is done. Nothing good ever comes from regretting the past. It is the future we can still shape.” A magical smile lit up her face. “And it looks rather promising now, does it not?”
Nodding his head, Tristan stared at his wife, for a moment unable to believe that she was indeed there with him, that she had married him, that she was his wife…that she loved him. For she did, didn’t she?
Gently, Beth urged him to lie back, and he lifted his tired legs onto the bed. Softness engulfed him, and his eyelids grew heavy. However, his arm held tight to the woman he loved, and before long he felt a blanket descend on his heavy limbs and a small head come to rest on his uninjured shoulder. Snuggling closer, his wife placed a hand on his chest, resting over his heart as though shielding it from the harshness of the world around them.
Never in his life had Tristan felt so safe and warm and utterly content. Whatever the future held in store for them, he did not fear it. For as long as Beth was by his side, he knew he would find the strength to meet his fate.
Whatever it was.
Then he closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.