Fortune's Folly - The Confessions Of A Duchess Part 19

He kissed her again. This time she could feel relief in the way that he held her, before it gave way to a different kind of urgency.

"Come on," he whispered. He pulled open a door and bundled her through. It was pitch-black but Lydia thought she could smell beeswax and silver polish.

"Where are we?" she asked, bewildered.

"In one of the storerooms." She could hear a smile in his voice even though she could not see him in the dark. His hands were suddenly busy on the fastenings of her gown. Lydia gasped.

"We can't do it here!"

"Yes, we can."

Lydia thought of her mother finishing her dessert in the dining room and felt a huge, wicked wave of defiance. She could be wild after all, she thought. It was easy to rebel.

"So we can," she whispered.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"MR. ANSTRUTHER, YOUR grace."

It was precisely six o'clock when Carrington showed Dexter into the drawing room at The Old Palace. Laura had been trying to read a six-month-old copy of the Ladies Magazine whilst she waited, but she might as well have been holding it upside down for all the sense it made, and in the end she had cast it aside with an exclamation of exasperation and had gone to look out of the window. It was already dark and the moon that had shone the previous night was obscured by cloud. The night felt gloomy and threatening. She had let the curtain fall back into place and turned for comfort to the glow of the fire, trying to warm herself before it.

Laura took a deep breath as she turned to face Dexter. She felt anxiety and dread in almost equal measure. The guilt gnawed at her, making her pulse pound and her head ache with tension. In the long moment whilst they waited for Carrington to close the door and leave them alone, she noted that Dexter was looking particularly elegant, as though he had made a special effort with his appearance that night. His linen was a pristine, perfect white, his pantaloons were without a wrinkle and his boots had a high polish. Something about the effort he had made with his immaculate attire combined with the unyielding expression in his eyes made Laura's heart ache with loss.

"Will you take a gla.s.s of something with me, Mr. Anstruther?" she asked. She smiled wryly to think of her mother's advice on the appropriate behavior of a d.u.c.h.ess at a time like this.

"When your lover visits to discuss the illegitimate child you kept a secret from him, offer him a gla.s.s of wine...."

That one had most definitely not been in the dowager d.u.c.h.ess's handbook.

"Thank you," Dexter said.

Laura poured him a gla.s.s of wine and he took it, but then set it aside immediately as though it was of no interest to him. His entire attention was focused on Laura, silent, watchful, his stance speaking of tension and antagonism.

"Hattie is my daughter," he said and it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Laura said.

She saw something ease in his face at her words, as though, despite everything, he had expected her to deny it. She felt again the pang of guilt at the hurt she had caused him.

"I knew she must be as soon as I saw her," Dexter said. His tone hardened. "Had you been deliberately keeping her from me so that I should not guess?"

"Not really," Laura said. "I had no notion that you would recognize her." She cleared her throat. "How did you know? I did not think that she resembled your family at all." She remembered the moment in the long gallery when Hattie had glanced up at her in a way that had been exactly like Dexter. Resemblance was sometimes a matter of small gestures rather than appearance.

"She has something of my air of determination about her," Dexter said. "And then there was this."

He held out a little locket to her. Laura took it, her fingers slipping a little on the catch. Inside was a picture of a child whose likeness to Hattie was so sharp that it made her catch her breath.

"My half sister, Caro Wakefield, when she was five years old," Dexter said dryly. "You may have heard of her referred to as my father's ward. That is a polite fiction to cover the fact that she is his illegitimate daughter and part of the Anstruther miscellany."

"She has the same blue eyes as you," Laura said. Her throat felt thick with tears. Looking at the likeness, accepting for the first time that Hattie was part of a wider family, was an extraordinary feeling.

"Whereas Hattie's are darker, I think. Hazel, like yours."

Laura looked up. They were talking so easily, so superficially, but beneath the surface she could sense all the pain and heartbreak and anger that lay between them. She felt cold through and through.

Dexter ran a hand through his hair, disordering it still further. "I can see that the timing fits," he said. "In fact I am surprised that I did not think of it before. You had told me at the time-at Cole Court-that you and Charles were estranged. But then a year or so later I heard that you had had a child and I thought..." He shrugged, his tone tipped with ice. "I thought it was just another lie that you had spun me."

"It was not," Laura said.

Just another lie...

She felt so miserable.

"No. I realize that now. Hattie's resemblance to Caro puts her parentage beyond doubt." Dexter looked at her. "Caro's looks come from the Anstruther side of the family. My brother Roly also has that coloring. The fair hair and blue eyes are from my mother's side."

"I should have thought," Laura said. She hesitated. "Hattie did not resemble you. So I a.s.sumed..."

"That I would never know?" There was such hostility in his Dexter's tone that Laura felt as though her heart was shriveling up to hear it.

"I suppose so."

"You did not intend ever to tell me?" The latent fury in his voice pinned her down.

"No."

She felt the accusation in his silence.

"Why should I tell you?" Laura knew she sounded defensive. "Charles was still alive when Hattie was born. Everyone a.s.sumed she was his child and I was not going to suggest anything to the contrary. Think of the scandal if the truth of her parentage had come out, Dexter! It would have caused nothing but trouble."

"Still so concerned to preserve your reputation?" Dexter sounded scathing. He paced across the room, the pent-up fury latent in every line of his body. "I know it has been your prime concern all along."

"You are mistaken," Laura snapped. "It was Hattie I have sought to protect all along. That was why I kept the secret. Do you think I wanted her branded a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, growing up under the shadow of her mother's disgrace? That was why I never told you."

Dexter recoiled from her, dislike flaring in his eyes. "You thought that I would broadcast your so-called disgrace to the world and condemn our daughter to ruin?" His tone flayed her. "What sort of man do you think I am?"

"I never thought that you would do it on purpose," Laura said. She spread her hands appealingly. This was all so much worse than she had imagined. The stark disgust on Dexter's face made her feel guilty and miserable for the choices she had made. "I was afraid," she said simply. "Scandal has a way of leaching out and damaging those who least deserve it, no matter how one tries to keep it secret." She made a desperate gesture. "You know that it would take only the slightest whisper that Hattie was illegitimate to cause a huge scandal."

"I can understand why you did not tell me whilst Charles was alive," Dexter said. "But to keep the secret after his death-"

"What else was I to do?" Laura burst out. "Did you imagine I would calmly write to remind you of our night together and inform you that you had a two-year-old daughter? Besides," she said, turning away from him, "I knew your opinion of me. I thought you would doubt that Hattie was your child and then I would have put her in danger all for nothing."

Dexter's expression was hard. "Well, be a.s.sured that I do not for one moment doubt Hattie's parentage." His tone was rough. "That at least is one honest thing between us."

Laura winced. Only that morning he had held her in his arms and shown her if not love then tenderness. Now he sounded as though he hated her.

"Since you were estranged, Charles must have known Hattie was not his child," Dexter said. "What happened when he discovered that you were pregnant?"

Laura looked at him. She did not want to tell him, did not want to rake up all the terrible things that Charles had done, but she knew she could hold nothing back from Dexter now.

"Charles came back to Cole Court from London when I was six months pregnant," she said. "He was drunk and violent." She swallowed convulsively. "He swore at me for carrying another man's b.a.s.t.a.r.d child. He pushed me down the stairs. I fell all the way down. I remember being utterly terrified that I would lose the baby." She clenched her fingers together tightly. "In ten years of marriage to Charles I had never thought to conceive a child and I could not bear to lose her-literally I could not have lived if I had lost her, Dexter. And Charles-" Her voice broke. "He stood looking down at me as I lay there and said he hoped the child was dead and then he just walked away."

She saw Dexter make an instinctive movement of shock and revulsion.

"Later," she said, "he wrote to say that he would take Hattie away from me." Her words were coming faster now, spilling out after so many years of restraint. "Charles threatened to denounce Hattie before he died," she said. "He was going to take her away from me and banish me. At first he had said nothing out of pride, but as he grew more bitter and angry, so his threats became more intemperate." She stopped and put her hands up to cover her face briefly. "I was so frightened," she said. "Hattie was everything to me, the most precious thing in the world. I could not have borne it if-" She stopped. "And then Charles died," she finished fiercely, "and I was glad."

She felt Dexter touch her arm gently. "I am sorry," he said, "that you were left to deal with that alone."

Laura stood still, stiff beneath his touch, her fear and misery locked deep inside her. She wanted him to take her in his arms but she knew there was no easy absolution for her here. Dexter could not forgive her simply because Charles had been cruel and vicious to her. She had hurt him too much in excluding him from Hattie's life and keeping the secret of her parentage for him for him to forgive her easily now.

She moved away from him and he let her go. "Thank you," she said. "I suppose it accounts in some part for the reasons why I have been so absolutely determined to keep Hattie safe these four years past."

"But not for why you never saw fit to tell me I was her father."

Laura's heart plummeted. "I understand that you must be angry-" she began.

"I doubt that you do understand," Dexter said. His tone was dangerously quiet, but Laura could see the tension in him, barely under control. "Anger does not begin to describe how I am feeling now. To discover that I am the father of your child, to know that you never intended to tell me..." He shook his head. "Well, you may have denied me the right to take responsibility for my daughter before, but you will not do so now, Laura. You will marry me. This time you will accept me." His tone defied her to refuse him. "You will marry me for Hattie's sake. You claim that everything that you have done has been with no thought in mind other than to protect our daughter. Well, now that I finally know about her, that is my responsibility."

Laura put her hand up to her brow. "No! I cannot marry you when I know that you are so angry with me and cannot possibly want to offer us your protection."

Dexter came closer to her. His face was granite hard. "I am doing this for Hattie," he said. "I will not allow her to grow up in ignorance of the fact that I am her father, particularly when she will believe that Charles Cole, a cruel, dissolute apology for a man fathered her instead."

"But that will undo all the good I have tried to achieve," Laura argued desperately. "Once Hattie is in your family circle and people see the resemblance between her and some of your brothers and sisters, they are bound to talk! They will speculate that there was an affair between the two of us before Charles died and drag Hattie's name through the mud!" She put up her hands to cover her face before letting them fall again. "Dexter, all I have tried to do from the very first is keep Hattie safe. You say you want to protect her-well, the best way that you can do that is by leaving us alone."

Dexter shook his head. "There will always be talk," he said. "People can prove nothing. The fact is that Charles was alive when Hattie was born and there was never any suggestion that she was illegitimate. And now that he is dead you will be safer with the protection of my name than without it. I will not be excluded from Hattie's life any longer, Laura."

"But that need not mean we have to marry," Laura said. "You could still see Hattie- "

"And think how much conjecture that would cause," Dexter said dryly, "when I am supposed to have no connection with her."

Laura was silent. She could see the truth of that. She flung up her hands. "But I do not understand why you cannot simply accept things as they are! It is the way that things are done-"

"It is not the way that I do things," Dexter said. His anger was palpable now. The air crackled with it. "I am aware that half of society has affairs and illegitimate children and everybody keeps their peace to avoid scandal. Who would know that better than I, with my family history?" His jaw set. "It is because I grew up in such a situation that I am absolutely determined my children will never face a similar state of affairs. I am prepared to keep the pretense of Hattie's parentage outside the family. It is, after all, n.o.body's business but ours. However, within the family Hattie will know exactly who her father is and there will be no misunderstandings and no lies. And to that end you will marry me."

"I cannot," Laura said. "I cannot marry you." She turned to him. "I appreciate what you are trying to do, Dexter. I admire the sense of honor that prompts you to do what you think is best for Hattie even when you dislike me so strongly. But you need have no concern that she is unprotected. Nicholas and Mari Falconer are Hattie's G.o.dparents and they will make sure that she will never want for anything, either materially or emotionally. And I have plenty of other relatives such as Miles, who will help-"

Dexter made a violent move toward her and she stopped abruptly. "Hattie will always lack a father," he said, through his teeth, "and that I cannot permit." His voice warmed into fury. "You would rather consider any other option-anyone else's charity- than accept me, would you not? Do you think that I will stand by and watch another man provide for my child when that is my duty and I am willing to undertake it?"

"That is not why I am refusing-" Laura began, but he cut her off.

"Perhaps you will reconsider when I tell you that if you do not accept me I will be the one to tell everyone that Hattie is my child and then all your subterfuge will be in vain."

The room spun. All the breath left Laura's body. She grabbed the edge of the table for support. "So now you seek to blackmail me into marrying you?" she whispered.

Dexter smiled mirthlessly. "Yes. You have said that you would do anything to protect your daughter. Well, this is the price you pay for her safety. You marry me."

Laura gaped at him. "You would not do it! You are not that sort of man!"

"You mistake me," Dexter said. His eyes flashed, dark blue and very angry. "I am exactly that sort of man. I would do that and more if that were what it took to get you to accept my proposal. I think I have made it clear that I want you and Hattie living with me, and if the only way to achieve it is to make it plain to the world that she is my daughter, then that is what I will do."

"You pretend that you want what is best for Hattie," Laura said, Dexter's determination firing her anger, "and yet you threaten her and use her as a bargaining counter."

"I only seek to protect her," Dexter said. "You have admitted yourself that you are not close to your relatives, Laura. I want Hattie to grow up within a loving family."

"I cannot imagine that she will be very happy when she realizes that her father has forced her mother into marrying him and they cannot bear to be near one another," Laura said sharply. "Besides, you cannot simply appear one day and start to live with us. Hattie barely knows you!"

"I said this morning that children adapt," Dexter said. "Hattie will get to know me quickly. With six younger siblings I have some experience of children. You can trust me."

Laura looked at him. It was true that Hattie would be more open than she was. When she had met Dexter earlier that afternoon she had accepted him without question. She was a happy little girl because, despite everything that had happened, Laura had worked hard to make sure that nothing and no one had ever threatened Hattie's security. She would give Dexter her unconditional love and Dexter, Laura knew instinctively, would never betray his daughter's love and trust. Laura's heart ached to think of the happiness such a relationship would bring them both. Dexter would make a wonderful father. But the price was that he would also be a husband, her husband. He would be a husband who would always hate her for her deception. But if the al ternative was for Dexter to reveal the truth about Hattie's parentage to the world, what choice did she have? Bitter pain twisted within her.

"Very well," she said. "I will marry you for Hattie's sake." The knife twisted within her again. "And I will accept the money Henry and my brother are offering as a dowry for your family's sake. But it will be a marriage in name only, Dexter. It must be. You are marrying me because you wish to be Hattie's father, not my husband."

She stopped. An unsettling smile had touched Dexter's mouth. "My dear Laura," he said, "you delude yourself. I wish to be your husband in every way there is. How could we possibly have a marriage in name only?"

"Because we don't like each other," Laura snapped. It was only partly true. She hated the way in which Dexter had forced her hand but she could not deny that her traitorous body responded to him even when her mind knew how impossible it was for them to be together.

There was a dangerous glint in Dexter's eyes as he pushed away from the wall and came toward her. "I thought we agreed only last night in your library just how much we liked each other?"

"I am talking about trust and respect, not l.u.s.t," Laura said. "Those are the qualities that you yourself said you required in marriage. You feel none of those things for me."

Dexter did not contradict her. That unsettling smile still lingered on his lips. "Those qualities may be desirable but they are not precisely necessary for an intimate relationship," he murmured.

"So cynical." Laura looked at him, feeling a hopeless mixture of awareness and despair. "I cannot make love with you when I know how much you dislike me."

Dexter shook his head. "I am sure that you can. I still want you and that is all that matters."

He slid a hand onto the nape of her neck and drew her forward until he could kiss her. His lips were cool and firm, almost gentle, except that there was now no tenderness in him for her. Nevertheless she felt the flare of heat within her body and was helpless to part her lips in response to the demand of his. When he let her go they were both breathing fast and there was the glitter of desire in his eyes.

"You see," he said, in the same cold tone, "you do not require trust and esteem and respect from me. I will get a special license and we will wed within a fortnight."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

IT WAS LAURA'S WEDDING DAY, the autumn sun was shining and the gossip in Fortune's Folly was positively deafening. The on dit was all about how the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Cole was marrying Mr. Dexter Anstruther at scandalously short notice and with a special license. Laura knew that half of the village were suggesting that she had been having an affaire with Dexter and was pregnant. The other half thought he was just a handsome fortune hunter and Laura a rather embarra.s.singly foolish older woman who had fallen for his charms. Both pieces of scandal, Laura thought, were close enough to the truth to make her uncomfortable.