To Capture a Rake by Lori Brighton
Damn it all, the truth was she didn’t realize how badly he wished he could be the man she needed. Gideon pulled out the top drawer and dumped out the contents. If it was up to him, she would never know what he had done. Aye, he must leave as soon as possible.
Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. He shuffled through the documents. Deeds to land and a shipping company. If the land and companies were doing as well as they looked on paper, it wasn’t surprising that Elizabeth was so wealthy. He frowned, noticing two different signatures. One was the tight and no-nonsense scrawl of a man, the other flowing and delicate like a…woman. Had Elizabeth been Mr. Ashton’s secretary? He shoved the papers back into the drawer and relocked it, hiding the past once more.
Mr. Smith had said she was intelligent, and he had seen that spark in her more than once. Thoughts of Mr. Smith sent his mood spiraling. What was it about the man that he so despised? His arrogance? The way he acted as if he owned the estate? The way he looked at Gideon as if he knew exactly who and what he was? He frowned. No, he knew it was none of those things. It was the way he looked at Elizabeth, as if he knew exactly what a prize she was, even if others didn’t. Even worse, the way Elizabeth looked back at the man as if she trusted him completely.
Annoyed, he unlocked the second drawer. How desperately he wanted her to look at him that way. He pulled out the drawer and dumped the contents onto the desk. More papers. It was obvious no one had been through Mr. Ashton’s things in some time. What the hell was Elizabeth waiting for? If she didn’t keep careful attention to the businesses, someone would take advantage of her for sure. He frowned, wondering why he cared. His days here were limited. Soon, if all worked out as planned, he’d escape to America. Start over. He didn’t need the worry and anxiety that came with caring about others.
He examined the papers with a critical eye. Nothing of interest, but there had to be something…something that would explain his unease. Something that would explain his connection to Elizabeth’s late husband. Damn it all, he didn’t believe in coincidence.
He started to shove the pile toward the drawer when a small miniature painting caught his eye. There…laying at the bottom of all the missives…a tiny portrait of two men. Gideon shoved the papers into the drawer and then settled in the soft leather chair that had been Mr. Ashton’s. One man was the late Mr. Ashton, and the other…Gideon leaned toward the lantern light. There was something oddly familiar about that face.
A shiver of apprehension scurried down his spine.
Slowly, he lifted the portrait toward the light.
The man smiling back at him was someone he thought he’d never see again.
The very devil himself…
His father.
Elizabeth was slowly being crushed. Completely and utterly smashed under the weight of secrets and lies she’d been keeping for the past four years. But nothing…nothing hurt her more than Gideon’s refusal of marriage.
Her proposal was a muddled memory of stammered words and indecipherable explanations. No wonder why Gideon hadn’t believed her. She’d acted the utter fool. Silly girl, she’d thought asking him to marry her would be enough to keep him here. But it was time to let go. Yes, it was time to tell Gideon the complete truth, and the idea frightened her much, much more than she wanted to admit.
She tucked the blanket around the children, so small in her large bed, too afraid to sleep alone. No child should know so much fear. Yet, she didn’t blame them, and in fact welcomed Henry and Cally into her room where she could watch them carefully. As quietly as possible, Elizabeth moved into the adjoining sitting room Mr. Ashton had redecorated two years ago for her personal use. It was a beautiful shade of rich green that he had claimed matched her eyes. A soft beige settee sat in the middle, two plush chairs near the fireplace. She’d felt so very grown up and special having tea in here. At the time it had been a status symbol. Now she merely needed a moment to herself. Just a moment.
Sarah had built a welcoming fire, but the flames did little to soothe her soul. With a sigh, Elizabeth kicked off her slippers and settled on one of the plush chairs, curling her legs underneath her silken night wrap. Most likely Gideon had left, escaping to America, escaping from her mad life. She wouldn’t have blamed him one bit. Slowly, she rubbed her aching temples. Would he ever believe that she wanted him? And she did want him in her bed and as her husband. She couldn’t imagine life without him. The sun would not be as bright, the world as exciting.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes. She had been as adventurous and bold as the children once. Long, long ago. Before responsibilities and life had all but destroyed her innocence. She would not let the children be destroyed as well.
It was late, so very late, and her mind was muddled from fear and lack of sleep. She supposed she should have felt some shame at asking a man to marry her. Surely her mother was rolling over in her grave. But what choice did she have? She sure as hell couldn’t wait for him to come around. Everything had somehow come unraveled, and time was running out.
Mr. Ashton should have known she could not juggle all of his lies and responsibilities. She was merely an uneducated country girl, trapped in a gilded world where she didn’t belong. Perhaps she should have told Gideon the truth from the beginning. What had she meant to accomplish by playing games?
The door to the bedroom opened. Elizabeth turned, expecting to see Henry or Cally. Instead, Gideon stood there, his face hard and unreadable. Elizabeth bolted upright, setting her feet on the cold floor. An ominous shiver raced down her spine. She had a feeling he wasn’t there to accept her proposal.
“Gideon.” His name came out on a breath of air.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Her heart fluttered. With a quick glance, she took in his mussed hair and shirtsleeves. The dark smudges under his brilliant eyes told her he’d gotten as little sleep as she. His disheveled state said everything…he was upset with something or someone. With her.
She had the sudden urge to race to the opposite side of the room. She could read nothing in his features. His eyes were cold, distant. This was the Gideon she had met at Lady Lavender’s. The man she needed, whether he wanted to accept it or not. A man whose mood could shift with the tide. A man who could kill without conscience. Yet, a man who would also protect her at the cost of his own life. She wanted to grasp onto him, beg Gideon not to turn back into that cold, distant man.
His gaze was hard and unwavering. “I want the truth now.”
She winced, her heart leaping into her throat. Gideon’s tense body pulsed with anger that made her shudder. He knew something wasn’t right, perhaps he’d known all along. Her lungs began to burn, and she realized quite suddenly that she was holding her breath. She released the air through pursed lips. How to explain?
He took another step forward, his boots heavy. “And you are going to tell me everything.”
Everything? She grasped her braid, nervously playing with the end. “What do you mean?”
She stepped back because she needed distance between herself and the man’s anger. When he loomed over her, she couldn’t think. Hell, when he was near she couldn’t think. Although his face gave away none of his feelings, he radiated confusion and desperation. If she’d learned one thing in life, it was that desperate men did desperate things.
“You brought me here.” He started toward her, his steps sure. “To take your virginity.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. When he said it that way, it sounded rather ridiculous. Of course he didn’t realize that losing her virginity was merely step one in her master plan. A master plan that, granted, had gone somewhat awry. “Yes, I suppose.”
He moved around the chair. Elizabeth stumbled back, her shoulder blades hitting the wall. Trapped, she was utterly trapped. He paused directly in front of her, his warm breath stirring her loose tendrils. He didn’t touch her, but she felt as if he did. Overwhelmed by his presence and the heaviness of her responsibilities, Elizabeth knew it was time to tell the truth.
Her pulse hammered under her skin. “I was going to pay you.”
The corners of his lips lifted, although she wouldn’t exactly call it a smile. No, it was more of a snarl. “But that wasn’t the best of it. Oh no.” He placed his other hand next to her, thoroughly trapping her body between his arms. “The best came the other day when I happened upon a portrait for your late husband. The very same man I remember visiting my cottage when I was but a child.”
So, he had recognized Mr. Ashton in the painting. Damn, but she hadn’t expected that. “What a coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” He stepped closer, so close the tips of his boots brushed her bare toes. “You have been a manipulative, conniving, selfish b—”
“Don’t say it!” She flinched. She’d been called the name before. One didn’t live in the slums without hearing a variety of wretched words. But coming from him, it felt like betrayal. Fortunately, he pressed his lips into a tight line, but his eyes still flashed with anger. Something had happened since her proposal. Not even thoughts of marriage could make a man that angry.
He gripped her upper arms with his tight fists and drew her body up against his. His entire form radiated strength and irritation. “You will tell me the truth.”
Slowly, she tilted her head back and met his gaze fully. He didn’t trust her, and he might not believe her. But it didn’t matter. He deserved the truth. “Mr. Ashton was a good man, if a bit rakish in his youth. He grew up spoiled, wealthy. It wasn’t until he became ill that he began to change his ways.”
“How convenient.”
She took in a deep breath, steeling herself. “He had a brother.”
He didn’t react. There was no flaring of his pupils, no paling of the skin, or shifting in unease. He was completely and utterly still. Elizabeth had the distinct suspicion that he knew the facts already and this was merely a test to see if she would admit the truth.
She swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back now. Yes, she had jumped off that crumbling cliff and could only pray there would be water below. “Although Mr. Ashton was rakishly charming, his brother was much worse. He had no conscience, no care for others. Unfortunately, Mr. Ashton didn’t realize the man’s true nature until they were much older. He kept trying to see the good in his brother, as any of us would.”
His grip tightened almost painfully. “Why are you telling me this?”
With a cry, Elizabeth twisted away from him. She couldn’t deny that this Gideon frightened her, but she had come this far, and she would not lose faith now. Summoning her courage, she faced him fully. Those cold eyes made her feel suddenly, bitterly cold. “I’m telling you because…because on his deathbed, Mr. Ashton begged me to right his one last wrong. To save his brother’s children. The same children his brother had abandoned to fate well over a decade ago.”
Gideon didn’t respond, but the anger was still there. She could see it in his narrowed eyes, the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders, the bulging veins in his fisted hands. She jerked her gaze away and focused on the dancing flames, attempting to glean comfort in their warmth.
“You see, Mr. Ashton knew his brother had children, but he ignored them because, as we all know, sometimes it’s easier not to deal with the truth. But the truth has a way of reappearing, and often at the most inconvenient of times. On his deathbed he realized how wrong he had been. He made me promise to see that they would receive their fair share of the wealth, what they deserved.”
Still he said nothing. She briefly closed her eyes, gathering the strength to go on. She didn’t dare think about how he would respond when the truth was set free. She had always assumed that with the right coaxing, any man would see this new world as a blessing. But Gideon wasn’t just any man.
“Unfortunately, the daughter had died years ago, but the son…Mr. Ashton’s nephew was out there, somewhere.”
“You’ve known all along who I was.” His voice sounded deceptively mild.
“Yes.” She finally faced him, and with it, faced the truth. Faced the past four years. His eyes had turned granite-hard, so cold that she felt the chill of his gaze all the way to her soul. “Mr. Ashton was your uncle.”
His jaw clenched. “And what was your purpose in bringing me here?”
She’d known this would be difficult, but she hadn’t imagined admitting the truth would be this hard. “To honor Mr. Ashton’s wishes, so that you might share in your family’s wealth.” It seemed so simple to her, but nothing was ever simple when emotions were involved. Gideon might pretend to be an uncaring sod, but she knew deep down he hurt. How badly she wanted to reach out to him, to soothe his aching soul, if only he’d let her. If only he’d trust her.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature. Mr. Ashton and his brother. A painting they had had done years ago, during happier times. Before her late husband had uncovered the truth about his brother. Where Gideon had found it didn’t matter. The truth would have come out eventually anyway.
“They are not my family, and you brought me here for your own desires…to help protect you when the time came. The jest is on you, my dear. I’m a whore.”
She dared to step toward him. “I know, but—”
“Do you know why I’m a whore?”
She shook her head, almost afraid to ask.
He smiled a brittle smirk that didn’t dare reach his eyes. “Because Lady Lavender knew my secret. She knew the one thing that could get me hanged and used it against me.”
Her heart nearly stopped beating. She’d known, hadn’t she? That something else had happened to Gideon. He didn’t whore because he liked the money or sex, Lady Lavender had blackmailed him. She wasn’t sure if she should be saddened or relieved. “What, Gideon? What did she know?”
He tossed the miniature into the fire with a ruthless disregard. “She knew that I had killed my father.”
Chapter 16
Gideon was halfway to getting foxed when Mr. Smith appeared.
He wasn’t quite sure why he’d admitted the truth to Elizabeth, but once the words had left his lips, he had felt oddly relieved. Relieved…until he got a look at her face. Shock and horror had been written quite clearly across her fine features. He’d done the only thing he could. He’d left the room and taken one of the mounts before he’d realized he had no bloody where to go. And so he had ended up at the local tavern, only about five miles from Elizabeth and her blasted children.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Merely seeing the portrait of his father had sent a chill through his gut that remained even now. His murder had been a secret he’d planned on taking to the grave. A secret only one other person knew…Lady Lavender. And now Elizabeth. Perhaps she’d send for the local constable. Maybe that’s why he’d told her, because he was sick of the lie. If all of England knew, let them do their worst. Maybe…just maybe, he wanted to hang from a noose and leave this cursed world.
A soft rain began to patter against the windows of the tavern. In the distance thunder rumbled. The weather seemed to match his mood. How he longed to disappear into the highlands of Scotland or the wilds of America. Somewhere unencumbered by societal rules. Someplace where no one could identify him.
The door opened, and a gust of warm air swept inside, bringing with it the scent of rain and mud. The flames in the hearth burst to life, light and shadows dancing across the walls. Curiosity rippled through the room, and the few patrons who had braved the foul weather ceased their discussion. Gideon didn’t bother to turn and see who had entered, friend or foe. Frankly, he didn’t care. The soft murmur of conversation resumed as quickly as it had paused, telling him the visitor offered no threat.
She’d asked him to marry her. It was ridiculous. Insane. Did she not understand that when the truth came out, the world would shun them? Hell, she was hoping to save her children, but she would only be destroying their futur
“A pint,” Mr. Smith called out to the barkeep.
“I thought you were in London,” Gideon growled.
He shrugged. “I had something more important to take care of.”
“What the hell do you want?” He was in no mood for small talk with a man who had become an irritating thorn in his side.
Mr. Smith, as always, kept completely calm as he slid a coin down the bar top in exchange for the mug of ale. “I’ve come into some information you might find interesting.” He turned on his stool, facing Gideon fully, and glanced surreptitiously around the room. He was obviously making sure they would not be overheard, and therefore, the man must think his information was of some importance.
Gideon took a drink of his own ale. “You have nothing to say to me that I’d find of interest.”
Mr. Smith drummed his fingers atop the scarred wood. “I didn’t want to tell you, but when Elizabeth heard, she insisted.”
As if he could trust anything Elizabeth had to say. She had known about his identity, and she had known about his father the entire time. Aye, he wasn’t the only one guilty of deceit. He briefly closed his eyes, his hand tightened around the glass. To think that he had started to trust her when he’d trusted no one. It served him right for letting his guard down.
“Are you not the least bit curious?” Mr. Smith asked.
Gideon’s gaze flashed to him. “I don’t give a shite what either of you have to say, and if you knew what was good for you, you’d leave now.”