The Impostor's Kiss. Tanya Crosby Anne

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СКАЧАТЬ foolish they had been. How very foolish. And the irony of it all was that Julian hadn’t even wanted or needed Glen Abbey. Bordered by the Alps and the Mediterranean Sea, the Principality of Meridian covered no more than two square miles, but was one of the most valuable pieces of real estate in all of Europe. In comparison, the only value Glen Abbey held was as a means of control. She had no doubt Julian would use it to control her life and that of her sons.

      Shortly after the church bells struck two, a rap sounded at the door.

      Fiona didn’t stir herself from the bed; her time to avoid it was long past. Anyway, she knew it would be him. The maid had a key and never bothered to knock. He, too, had a key; he turned it in the lock to allow himself entrance. She heard the lock click, the door creak on old iron hinges, and then he stood in the doorway. Her breath caught at the sight of him—as it always did. She loathed that weakness within herself, that she could love this man, despite that he’d treated her so shabbily.

      For just an instant he glanced downward, as though ashamed, and then he said, “I’ve come to see my sons.”

      “I want to go home,” Fiona demanded, though she knew it would gain her nothing.

      His handsome face was stern, his chiseled jaw clenched with resolve. His blue eyes seemed pale as a new moon, whitewashed of emotion. “As I’ve explained, I cannot allow you to leave with my children, Fiona.” He stood looking at her, his presence undeniable with his imposing size. She noted little sway in his posture.

      Fiona couldn’t help herself; a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She ignored it. So did he as he started across the room, toward the crib. “I don’t believe you ever loved me,” she said accusingly, swallowing her pride, feeling defeated. “If you did, you wouldn’t keep me here to suffer the sight of your new bride.”

      He said nothing and she took some comfort in anger. “Tell me, Julian, will it please you to know I shall be sitting here holding our bairns as your wedding bells toll?” He walked past her without looking at her and she added, “I wonder how pleased Elena will be when she learns of my presence in her home!” To her dismay, she started to cry.

      Julian stopped finally and turned to face her, his gaze softening. “Please don’t cry,” he said. For an instant, when he met her gaze, she saw a glimpse of the man she’d known. It squeezed at her heart.

      Unbidden, he came and sat next to her upon the bed, his voice softening. He reached out to wipe the tear from her cheek with a steady finger. Fiona closed her eyes, wincing over the tenderness in his touch.

      “Fiona,” he pleaded, “I could make you happy. I would shower you and my sons with gifts. I would take care of you—never disappoint you.”

      “You already have,” Fiona said, opening her eyes and facing him squarely. She shook her head adamantly. “I will never be your mistress, Julian,” she said with more conviction than she felt.

      He reached out to touch her hand. “You know how I feel about you,” he said, but his confession professed nothing. He hadn’t said those three little words to her since he’d revealed his plan to wed another woman. If he’d said them…if she heard them…her will would have crumpled. But he hadn’t said them and she jerked her hand away from the warmth of his touch.

      “My darling,” he beseeched her. “I promise to give you my full devotion.”

      Fiona looked up at him and said with acid sweetness, “You mean, when you aren’t otherwise devoted to your wife and her own children?”

      He looked away guiltily. “Fiona,” he said, and tried to explain yet again. “You know it was not my choice to wed Elena.”

      Fiona didn’t care to hear it. She swallowed her tears and summoned the last of her strength. She stood and turned her back to him. “All I know is that I will not disgrace my father’s name any more than I already have! I may never be able to face him again as it is!” She walked away, needing distance, lest she be tempted. She couldn’t look at him without wanting to leap into his arms and to beg him to love her and her children.

      How utterly pitiful she felt.

      Across the room, waking in their crib, the babes began to whimper. Fiona rushed to the cradle, grateful for the distraction. She touched each of their little faces, caressing their cheeks with her finger, their little noses. Merrick and Ian were everything to her. For them she would bear any shame, any trial. At least, if he must lock her away from the world, he’d been merciful enough to leave her with her precious darlings.

      “Mother adores you,” she cooed to them. Already they looked so much like their father, with dark hair and eyes so deep a gray they were like storm-ridden skies. Merrick seemed the more content of the two and she scooped Ian into her arms, intending to soothe him first.

      She hadn’t heard Julian approach, but his voice broke when he spoke, startling her. “I’d hoped…it wouldn’t come to this, but you are, indeed, correct, Fiona.” He set a hand upon her shoulder and squeezed gently. “I cannot keep you against your will.”

      Fiona choked a sob, anticipating what he was about to do. She wanted to go home—she truly did—but it pained her immensely to leave him…to never see him again…to never have the chance to hold him.

      “As you know, Elena will arrive soon. I’ll not have her upset by my mistake.”

      Mistake?

      Fiona’s throat constricted. If he’d wished to hurt her, he couldn’t have chosen finer daggers for words. Tears sprang to her eyes as she shrugged away from him. With Ian in her arms, she turned to face the father of her children, the man she was supposed to have wed, the man who had seduced her and then locked her away.

      Mistake?

      His expression turned hard and as cold as steel. “I’ve a proposition.”

      Fiona suddenly couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat. Taking comfort in Ian’s soft coos, she held her son to her breast. Though the glaze in her eyes must have betrayed her, she lifted her chin proudly. But nothing could have prepared her for what he was about to say.

      “You may choose one of our sons,” he said. “The other you must leave with me. If you agree to this, I will return Glen Abbey Manor to you and to your father.”

      Fiona blinked, disbelieving her ears. Whatever she had expected to hear, it wasn’t this. Her throat would not open to speak.

      “I will allot you a generous allowance to comfortably raise my son.”

      “No!” She found her voice at last. “How can you possibly expect me to abandon my flesh and blood?”

      He stood firm. “You have no choice in the matter.”

      “I refuse to leave either of my sons!”

      “If you fight me,” he warned her, his tone colder than she’d ever heard it, “I will seize both and will send you away with neither.” He gave her no more than an instant to digest the threat and then added, “Nor will I return Glen Abbey Manor to your father. You will be homeless and childless besides.”

      Her heart seemed to plummet to her feet. Had she not been holding Ian, she might have given in to a swoon. In desperation, she clutched her son to her breast. Pride vanished completely. “I’ll stay!” СКАЧАТЬ