A month had passed since Oliver married Maria before a rector in Southampton. They’d taken their time about returning to Halstead Hall, sending Freddy ahead with Pinter to inform the family of their marriage while they enjoyed the seaside on a honeymoon trip.
Hyatt had gone back to America to negotiate with Maria’s trustees. A lengthy letter from Oliver detailing the man’s deceptions had preceded him. Convinced that the men her father had appointed to oversee her funds were honest, Maria assured Oliver that they would hold Hyatt’s feet to the fire regarding the sale.
Though Oliver hoped so, he was taking no chances. He and Maria were to leave for America in a few days so she could consult with the trustees and make sure her aunt was well provided for. Freddy and his new bride, Miss Kinsley, were traveling with them, since he wanted to bring her home to meet his mother. But it was only to be a visit; Freddy had decided to live in England and work for his father-in-law. Oliver rather pitied Mr. Kinsley for that.
Now there was only one thing left to do before Oliver and Maria could depart for Massachusetts. They’d been back at Halstead Hall a week now, and he’d put it off as long as he could.
“Are you ready?” he asked Maria as they stood outside the library.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered with an anxious smile.
He knew her anxiety was for him, and he shared it. For half a second, he was tempted to return the way they’d just come—climb upstairs to the master bedchamber and spend the rest of the day forgetting duty to the estate and his family while he made love to his wife. But he doubted Maria would let him. For an American, she had quite a keen sense of aristocratic duty herself. To his surprise, he found it highly arousing.
“They’re going to hate us both, you know,” he said.
“I doubt that,” she replied. “And if they do, it won’t be for long.”
He wasn’t so sure, but he opened the door and ushered her in.
His brothers and sisters were ranged about the table much as they had been on the day Gran gave her ultimatum, but today they were in a more jovial mood.
“So, Oliver, what do you think?” Jarret asked as Oliver held out a chair for Maria. “Now that you’re leg-shackled, will Gran relent?”
“Why else would she have called this meeting?” Minerva said. “She’s got what she wanted all along—Oliver married and running the estate.”
“Even if she doesn’t relent,” Gabe pointed out, “we don’t need her money, thanks to Maria’s fortune. Right, Oliver?” He flashed Maria a grin. “We’re most grateful to you for that, Maria.”
Time to lower the boom. “Actually, my wife and I have decided that part of her fortune should go to help her family—she has an aunt and four cousins, you know. The other part will go into a trust for our children.”
Gabe’s grin faltered.
“And I was the one who called this meeting,” Oliver added. “Not Gran.”
At that moment, his grandmother came in, tapping her cane along the floor. “Sorry I’m late, but I had an emergency at the brewery.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “We were just getting started.”
As he held out a chair for her, the stunned expression on his siblings’ faces had him fighting a smile.
“Now, then,” he said, returning to the head of the table, “I think you should know that Gran’s original requirement is still in place. The four of you must marry or she will disinherit the lot of us. I’ve done my part. So I suggest that while Maria and I are in America, you four start looking for mates.”
It took a second for that to sink in.
Minerva exploded first. “That isn’t fair! Gran, I’m sure you’ll have your heir from Oliver and Maria in no time, given the hours they spend up there in the master bedchamber. Why in heaven’s name must you continue this farce?”
“I asked her to continue it,” Oliver said. When his siblings gaped at him, he added, “Gran is right—it’s time that we take our place in the world as more than hellions. We’ve been sleepwalking too long, locked into the past, unable to live fruitful lives. Now that Maria has awakened me, I want to wake you up, too. I want you to stop boxing at shadows and hiding in the dark from the scandal of our parents’ deaths. I want you to find what I’ve found—love.”
He gazed at Maria, who cast him an encouraging smile. They’d both agreed that this might be the only way to force his siblings awake.
“Speak for yourself,” Minerva answered. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re just using that nonsense as an excuse for joining up with Gran to ruin our lives.” She glanced resentfully at Maria. “Is this the thanks we get for pushing him into your arms?”
“Pushing me into her arms?” Oliver echoed.
“All that making you jealous and keeping you from her—” Gabe began.
“And lying to you about her inheritance,” Jarret added. “Though that didn’t work out quite as planned.”
“You wouldn’t even be together if not for us,” Celia said.
“I suspect my wife would beg to differ,” Oliver drawled. “But that’s neither here nor there. Rail at me all you want, but Gran’s deadline is still in place. You have ten months to marry.” He cast them a thin smile. “Given how difficult that may prove, however, I’ve hired someone to help you.”
He turned to the door. “Mr. Pinter? Would you step inside, please?”
The Bow Street runner walked in, looking uneasy at facing the entire cadre of scandalous Sharpes.
“Mr. Pinter has agreed to help you by researching the backgrounds of your potential spouses. I know it can be difficult, especially for you girls, to sort the legitimate suitors from the fortune hunters.” He knew that firsthand. “So Mr. Pinter will investigate anyone who sparks your interest. That should make the entire process move more quickly.”
“And cold-bloodedly,” Celia muttered under her breath.
Pinter arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Thank you, Mr. Pinter,” Oliver said. “If you’d be so good as to wait in my study, I need to say a few more things to my siblings.”
With a nod, Pinter left.
Now came the worst part. Turning to close the door, Oliver went to stand beside Maria. He needed her strength now. She took his hand and squeezed it.
“I’ve never told you the truth of what happened the day Mother killed Father. It’s time that I did. There have been too many secrets among us for too long.”
Shocked silence fell upon the room. He’d gone over the speech in his head twenty times, yet now that it was here, he could hardly say the words. Fortunately Maria was at his side, her forgiveness and understanding bolstering his courage.
He clung to that as he related the events of that horrible day. He’d considered not revealing that he’d slept with Lilith—indeed, Maria had tried to convince him that he need not endure that humiliation. But every time he tried to figure out how to tell the tale by glossing over that part, it came out wrong. He had to say it all.
As he got through it, he couldn’t look at them. He’d known it wouldn’t be easy to tell his siblings that he was responsible for the deaths of the parents they still mourned, but he’d never guessed it would be so hard.
Maria had. Trying to protect him, she’d asked him repeatedly if he was sure this was what he wanted to do. But they deserved to know. It was as simple as that.
When he finished, a deathly hush descended upon the room. Maria squeezed his hand painfully tight, and he still couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes.
Then Jarret spoke. “That cold bitch,” he said, his voice filled with venom. “I should have known Mrs. Rawdon was mixed up in it. She and Major Rawdon hustled off after the house party in a big hurry.”
Oliver’s stunned gaze rose to meet Jarret’s, which held no hint of condemnation toward him.
“She flirted with every man there, even me,” Jarret went on. “And I was only thirteen. It could just as easily have been my room she walked into that day.”
Beside Jarret, Celia was silently weeping, and Gabe was clearing his throat with a vengeance. Minerva regarded Oliver with a look of such compassion that tears stung his own eyes.
He couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t they understood the point? Hadn’t they been paying attention? “I thought you should know that I was the one to blame for—”
“You were not to blame for anything!” Minerva cried as she leapt to her feet. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. That’s all.”
“If anyone’s to blame,” Gran said from his other side, “it’s me.”
He turned to look at her. She, too, was crying, her papery cheeks damp from tears.
She lifted a remorseful gaze to him. “I should have listened to you when you said it was important I go after them. I have always regretted that. If I had only known . . .”
He laid his hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. I was too embarrassed to tell you what Mother and I fought about.”
“Can’t say as I blame you, old boy,” Gabe put in, his voice hoarse. “I would never have told Gran such a thing. I can’t even imagine having Mother walk in on me while . . . That’s every chap’s nightmare.”
They all chimed in to agree with Gabe.
“You know,” Celia said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, “Mrs. Rawdon must have told Mother something to make her go into your room at the right time.” When everyone looked at her, she blinked. “It just doesn’t seem feasible that Mother would have happened to go into Oliver’s bedchamber without knocking or anything.”
Oliver said, “Unfortunately, we’ll never know for sure. Lilith and the major left England long ago, so I wasn’t able to ask.”
The conversation turned to speculation about Mrs. Rawdon’s motives, and then to memories about their mother and how rigid she could be. Before he knew it, they were laughing at some tale Gabe told of Mother paddling him for running naked across the courtyard at five.
Oliver cast Maria a bewildered glance, and she pulled him into the empty chair beside her. “Let them laugh,” she said softly. “It makes it easier for them to face. It’s a lot to swallow at once—the knowledge that your mother killed your father on purpose. You have to give them time to absorb it, to figure out what it means to them. Right now, all they can do is laugh or keep crying, and they don’t want to hurt you more by crying.”
“But they should be blaming me. And they don’t.”
“Because they’re not stupid,” she said with a loving smile. “They place the blame where it should be placed, on Mrs. Rawdon and your mother. And on your father, for being a heartless rakehell.”
Gran laid her hand on his. “Your mother always was a sensitive soul—too sensitive, if you ask me. I would have gone after your father with a poker the first time he even looked at another woman.” She patted his hand. “You may not know this, but your grandfather was quite the rogue in his own day. Shaped right up after he married me, though.”
Oliver eyed her askance. “I don’t imagine you gave him much choice.”
“No, indeed.” She blotted her eyes with a handkerchief. “I still miss him, bless my soul. You remind me of him sometimes. He cut quite the dashing figure. And what a dancer! Lord, we used to dance all night.”
“I told you,” Maria said to Oliver. “It’s your mother’s line you favor. Not your father’s.”
He began to think she was right. With Maria in his life, he couldn’t imagine looking at another woman, much less bedding one. His duties at Halstead Hall kept him so busy he wondered how his father had ever managed to juggle a wife, an estate, and assorted tarts. The man must have been mad.
“Are we done now?” asked Minerva, jerking him from his reverie. “Or do you have other astonishing revelations to drop into our laps? Because if we’re done, I have some writing to do.”
He looked around to see that the others were awaiting his answer. He’d expected an entirely different outcome to this discussion, and now he was all at sea.
“Yes, we’re done,” Maria said helpfully. “Thank you all for being so understanding.”
“Well, then.” Minerva rose to her feet. “We’ll see you at dinner.”
And with that, the rest of them stood and trooped out of the room.
Minerva paused by his chair. “What Mother said to you was dreadful. I know she didn’t mean it. And I’m sorry you’ve suffered for it all these years.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive you for going over to Gran’s side, you traitor.”
He couldn’t help laughing. Minerva had always been a sore loser.
When his siblings were gone, Gran stood. “Thank you for taking my side in this.” She flashed Maria a smile. “And thank you for not giving up on him.” Then she, too, left.
Now that they had the room to themselves, Oliver turned to Maria. “I have to second Gran’s thanks for not giving up on me.”
“I did consider it a few times,” she teased. “But you can be such an engaging fellow that I never considered it for long.”
“And there was all that encouragement from my siblings,” he said. “All their little machinations to help our romance along.”
He had the satisfaction of watching his wife blush very prettily. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. I had no idea they were trying to ‘push you’ anywhere.”
“Of course you didn’t. You don’t have an ounce of guile in your entire body. But I knew what they were doing.”
She blinked at him. “You did?”
“My siblings are as transparent as that fetching night rail you put on every evening.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you fight them?”
“Because they were pushing me in a direction I wanted to go.”
“That’s very sweet, but I’m sure you had no desire to marry until—”
“From the moment I met you, sweetheart, I could tell I was in trouble. I didn’t acknowledge it, but on some level I sensed it. When a man first sees the thing he never realized he wanted, he knows it instantly. He just doesn’t always know how to get it.”
She laughed. “Oh, I think you figured out very quickly how to get it. You just kissed me until I stopped kneeing you in the privates, and after that I was putty in your hands.”
“So that’s the secret, is it?” Reaching over, he hauled her onto his lap. “Now I know how I’ll be spending my afternoon.”
Her eyes gleamed at him. “Meeting with the tenants?”
“Guess again.” He began to unbutton her gown, which very conveniently opened in the front.
“Consulting with the carpenter?”
“Absolutely not.” Kissing each swath of flesh revealed with the release of a button, he started dragging up her skirts with his other hand.
“Seducing your wife?” she teased, then caught her breath as he slipped his hand between her legs to find her already ready for him.
“Exactly. But, if you don’t mind, I believe I shall skip the part where you knee me in the privates.”
And as she burst into laughter, he set about to show her the decided advantages in marrying a rakehell.