The Secret Love of a Gentleman. Jane Lark

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СКАЧАТЬ tone. If she was to save Drew she must tell him what she spoke to Drew about. Tears welled in her eyes and her fingers shook as nausea spun in her stomach.

      “Here.” Lord Wiltshire passed her his handkerchief.

      “I spoke to him mostly when my husband beat me. Drew would give me comfort.”

      “Comfort…”

      She had looked at her hands, but now she looked up and glared at the magistrate, her heart racing wildly. “Not the physical kind. I sought words of comfort. He was someone to speak with when I had no one else. As I said, neither my mother nor my sister will speak with me.”

      “And so you turned to a brother.”

      “Yes. Because my brother is a good man.” She stared at the magistrate, denying the accusations in his eyes, as fear danced through her nerves, running up her spine.

      “It has never gone further? Never become something beyond what it ought to be? You have been accused of incest by your husband.”

      “My husband is a liar. He does not like to lose. There has never been anything inappropriate between myself and my brother. My husband is merely angry because I have left him and my brother has enabled it.” And she had once thought that man cared for her… She was a fool. Her heart had been deceived. Yet it could not forget the web of emotions his shallow devotion had cast. It wished to believe his devotion continued to lie beneath all else, and guilt had hung over her since she’d fled because, despite everything, her heart told her she’d been disloyal and had disgraced herself—and him.

      “And you have left your husband because?”

      “I cannot breathe,” she said to Lord Wiltshire as the vice of terror tightened about her chest.

      He rose and turned, going to a table across the room, then returned with a glass of amber liquor. “Here.”

      She swallowed a mouthful. It burned the back of her throat, but it relaxed the muscles in her chest. “Because he beat me, violently, sometimes daily. If I had stayed with him he would have killed me. Is it a crime to wish to be alive?” Her words echoed through her head. Was it a crime? She felt as though it was, and now she served her sentence. She had spoken the words to her foolish heart as well as to these men.

      “It is no crime. But nor is it crime for your husband to reprimand you, yet neither point is the cause of my investigation. Did anyone witness the Marquis strike you? I am not entirely insensitive to the fact that such a thing would justify and explain your brother protecting you.”

      Nor is it a crime for your husband to reprimand you… So the men agreed to her guilt—that she ought to be blamed and chastised for her inability to breed. Hearts should not be involved in marriage—love like that which Drew had found was abnormal. Most couples in society lived without love.

      Yet what the magistrate said meant there was hope for Drew, if there was a witness who would dare to stand against Albert.

      Caro drank the last of the brandy, then passed the empty glass to Lord Wiltshire. Her fingers curled tighter about the handkerchief in her hand. “My lady’s maid would be able to give you an account of the events which she witnessed, but I cannot say where she will be, she will have been dismissed, and if you find her you will need to promise that her name will not be released.” She looked at the Duke. “She will need to be protected if she is willing to speak.” Albert’s temper may turn against her as it had turned against Drew.

      But all would be laid bare if they spoke to her maid. Betsy would tell them the words Albert spoke when he’d beaten Caro and then they would know she was incapable of providing him with a child.

      Heat burned in Caro’s cheeks and tears made the Duke shimmer. She looked at the floor, shame lancing through her breast as the tears ran on to her cheeks.

      “Thank you, Ma’am. We are finished.” The magistrate and the Duke of Arundel stood.

      Caro wiped the tears from her cheeks.

      The Duke walked past her and then opened the door to let the magistrate leave.

      “I believe Lady Kilbride would appreciate your company, Mary. John, may I stay with you and dine here before I return to town?”

      Caro rose and turned as Mary came into the room. She clasped Caro’s hands. “I am sorry you had to endure this.”

      Mary was kind and generous in nature. She loved Drew deeply and she never hid those feelings. Caro could see now how Mary had drawn out the best qualities in Drew.

      “Better that than for Drew to suffer because of me.” Caro would never forgive herself if her failure destroyed Mary’s and Drew’s chance of happiness.

      Tears sparkled in Mary’s eyes, then fresh tears spilled from Caro’s. She leant to embrace Mary as Mary embraced her, both offering comfort. Caro broke the embrace, heat burning in her cheeks. “I am sorry.”

      Mary wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her dress. “You have no cause to be sorry.”

      “I do. This is my fault.”

      “It is not… It is no one’s fault, and we are going to remain calm. That is what is best for Andrew, and we are going to feel confident and trust Richard to return him to us.”

      “The magistrate did not believe me, not wholly. He is going to speak with one of my lady’s maids to ask her to confirm what I have said. The whole thing is mortifying… and then I think of Drew in a cell, alone. When he has done nothing to deserve it.”

      Mary gripped Caro’s hand. “I know. I know you are both innocent. I know you have both been through so much. But that is over now. We will have faith.”

      Caro gave her a tentative smile. “Thank you. Thank you for your concern. But most of all, thank you for loving Drew. He needed a woman like you –”

      “And I need him –” Mary smiled, but a tear escaped.

      Caro wiped it away with the handkerchief she held. “I am glad for you both.”

      A light knock struck the door, which had been left ajar. “Come!” Mary called.

      “Sorry to interrupt.” It was the Duchess of Pembroke, Mary’s sister-in-law. “It is just, I wished to let you know we are serving dinner. Your uncle is staying with us to dine, Mary, and he sent me to fetch you to ensure you came to the table. “Will you dine with us, Lady Kilbride?” The Duchess looked at Caro and Mary, as they looked at her.

      The Duchess had requested Caro’s attendance at the table daily and yet Caro had kept to the rooms she’d been allotted. She felt safe there. Among people, the sense of shame and discomfort was overwhelming.

      Caro shook her head.

      “I will leave you, then. Come when you are ready, Mary.”

      “I’m sorry,” Caro whispered. “I feel as though they must think I am rude and disrespectful of their hospitality, but I… I cannot tell you how I feel. I… Do you think the Duchess would send my dinner to my room?” How could she explain her feelings to Mary? She was beginning to feel as if she were mad.

      “Of СКАЧАТЬ