Chapter Thirty-Nine
What had she done?
Adelaide lost purchase on her skirts. They dropped like a curtain free of its sash, hiding the place she kept secret from all men save Nicholas Eastwood.
But it shouldn’t have been him. She was promised to another man. She had given Nick what rightfully, by signed contract, now belonged to Lord Montrose. The ink was barely dry, and she had already betrayed a man who had shown her nothing but kindness and respect.
The shame sliced deep. In her prior liaison, she had been wicked and wanton, but she had never been false. Back then she had belonged solely to herself. She had made no promises to betray.
Now she had betrayed.
And with a sinking heart, she knew she would betray again.
How could she help it? Her very best intentions to be good had been swept away in a storm wave of desire. Nick was right—she would always lift her skirts for him, honor be damned. It would be no different with Montrose’s ring on her finger. Her father was mistaken in his belief that marriage would temper her wicked nature.
It would not.
She was base. She was lustful and craven.
Montrose could not save her from Nick, but Nick could save her from herself. He was the only one who could.
The truth shall set you free.
She would tell him the truth…and he would set her free.
She struggled to breathe, to find strength in the air she dragged into her lungs.
“I love you,” she said, because she needed him to know that much, at least.
“Then marry me.”
“I can’t.” She pressed against his shoulders, needing distance, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Yes,” he said earnestly. “You can. It will be uncomfortable for a moment or two. That can’t be helped. You agreed to marry another, and he won’t like to hear that you have changed your mind. It will be unpleasant, but then it will be over and we can be together. Your father cannot stop you. Let Montrose keep your dowry if he wants it. I can provide for you without your father’s money.”
“Oh, Nick.” She half laughed, half sobbed his name. “It’s not so simple to break an engagement. There will be a scandal. Are you really willing to toss aside your marquessate along with my engagement?”
He hesitated, and it broke her heart.
But she knew it must be so—she had known that it would come to this from the moment Montrose told her. She was not worth the high price Nick would have to pay to protect her.
“Do you really think Montrose would allow you to become a marquess after you have stolen his choice of bride?” she said. “He will stand against you at every turn.”
“Let me worry about Montrose.”
But she saw the unease in Nick’s eyes.
“Even if he forgives you, the ton will not,” she said. “The scandal will destroy your chances. I won’t let you do that. Not for me.”
Nick grimaced. “So you intend to martyr yourself, is that it? I am a grown man, Adelaide. I’ve had no one but myself to depend on since I was twelve. Let me decide my own fate. Unless…” His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Unless it is you who is unwilling to live with the scandal. You still don’t trust me to protect you, do you?”
She closed her eyes. “No one can protect me from what I’ve done. I will tell you the whole truth, and then you’ll understand.”
His thumb stroked over her jaw. “Look at me, angel. There is nothing you can say that would make me desert you.”
If only she could believe that! If only he would say those words again after she’d told him everything. But she knew he would not.
She opened her mouth, and the truth spilled out.
“No lady ever leaves Our Lady of Good Hope with her baby. Did you know that? After the birth, the baby is taken to the orphanage, and the lady goes home. Alone.”
Nick’s arms tightened around her. “Adelaide—”
“No, please let me finish.” She pushed at his arms. “I won’t be able to say what I need to if you hold me.”
He released her and waited, tense, for her to continue.
“The nunnery was beautiful. Not gloomy at all, but quite cheerful. The nuns could often be heard singing, and there was a lovely garden. My room had a window that looked out on a pretty patch of wilderness. I used to sit by the window and look at the stars when I couldn’t sleep. Some nights there would be a shooting star, and I would make a wish. Some nights the nuns went out and buried a body there.”
Nick gave a sudden start.
“The bodies were all so small, no bigger than a child’s doll. They weren’t clothed or wrapped in cloth or…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled with the memory. “The graves were unmarked. I used to walk there and leave flowers where the earth had been moved. I…I don’t think the other mothers knew what became of their babies. There were whispers that the babies did not die in childbirth, but only after…after the mothers had left the cloister. I was sickened by the thought that one day my own baby might be among them. Oh, God, I was so frightened!” She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs.
Nick reached for her, but she brushed him aside. She couldn’t accept his comfort. Not yet. Not before she had gotten to the worst of it.
“I told you one of the maids took pity on me and told me about the kind woman in Epsom.”
Nick nodded. “Jane.”
“What I didn’t tell you was, I left before I gave birth.”
His lips parted in surprise. “But…”
She quickly went on. “It was easy to sneak away, and I knew rather than face unpleasant inquiries, the nuns would say I had died. I sold all the possessions I had with me, except my locket, where I kept your portrait. I used the money to pay for my passage to Epsom, and the rest I gave to the maid. And…you know the rest. Miss Sherwood took me in.”
Nick’s back had gone straight as a ramrod, his face colorless. “And the babe?”
She hesitated. After all, perhaps…no. She must.
“James.”
“James. Is our…son?” he asked slowly.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He touched his forehead, a thousand different emotions passing through his expression. “You named him after your father.”
She nodded. “This past winter was brutal, and spring came late. The farm couldn’t feed the three of us. It was urgent I find money. So I came to Hampshire to find work, and found you instead. I thought…I hoped…”
“That’s why you asked for the money,” he said flatly. His eyes went cold as ice. “You should have told me then. But instead you left him. You left our son. What will happen to him after you marry Montrose? Will you send Miss Sherwood a monthly income to care for him?”
Adelaide flinched. “I hope Montrose will allow James to live with us. I needn’t tell him about James’s parentage, only that his mother died and he was sent to me.”
“The hell you will.” The words were low and fierce.
She froze.
“I love him,” she said quietly.
Nick tilted his head, his lip curling in a sneer. “You said the same about me. And yet you left him to another woman, helpless babe though he be. And you left me for another man. It’s a strange way you have of loving, Adelaide. I want none of it.”
The small hope that she kept snuggled in her heart withered and died.
She knew she deserved that.
And then he left her there, in a messy heap of crumpled silk and tears.
But she deserved that, too.