Dreamspinner (47 page)

“What he did was no more underhanded than you selling a tea garden at an inflated price.”

Her father’s chest swelled. “That sale was perfectly legal. It isn’t my fault that William couldn’t spare the time to examine the property or consider that the market was due for a crash.”

“He most certainly would have made the effort had he known the supposed owner was acting as
your
agent.”

“I wasn’t the only plantation owner looking for a buyer. William never had a lick of business sense. Nor any scruples. Look at the way he stole that opium.”

Kent clenched his fists.
“You
hid the drug. Isn’t it long past time you admitted that?”

“How dare you accuse me of dishonesty!” Emmett paced forward. “You, the man who stole my daughters!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Disappointed and angry, Juliet stepped between the two men. “I won’t stand by while you drag out old quarrels. Kent, this was William’s feud, not yours. Can’t you ever let it go?”

“I have to honor my father s memory—”

“With more spite? When is this worthless cycle going to end? It’s already caused Emily’s death. And damaged our chance at happiness.”

He stared at her. Gradually the rigid line of his mouth eased. The black fury in his eyes gave way to shameful regret. “Old habits die hard,” he murmured.

“I’ve no sympathy for nasty habits. You’ve let hatred become too much a part of yourself.” She rounded on her father. “And you are no better. You let your precious place in society overrule everything. Why couldn’t you have been pleased at the prospect of Emily bearing your grandchild? Why did you have to view it as another battle lost?”

He crumpled into a chair. “William took everything that mattered from my past. With the baby, the Deverells would have owned the future, too.”

“So you’d strike out at Emily. My God, Papa, she was innocent of the feud! And so was her baby.”

“You’re right,” he said, burying his face in his hands, his voice ringing hollow. “I’ve been so obsessed with besting the Deverells that I sacrificed my most priceless assets, my own daughters. I’ve had to live with the knowledge that Emily died without...”

“Without what?”

“Without me telling her that I was an old fool for objecting to her marriage. And for refusing to accept a Deverell grandchild.”

Juliet held a painful breath, then slowly expelled it.

Could she believe him? “What about
my
baby?” she said softly. “Will you be a true grandfather to it?”

He looked up, his proud features edged by unhappy grooves, his eyes beseeching. “Oh, Princess, yes. If you’ll allow me.”

The wall around her emotions broke. She suddenly saw her father as a man, a man with flaws and feelings, a man who had struggled and sometimes made the wrong choices. How difficult it must be for him to humble himself, to discard the enmity of a lifetime. To ask, instead of demand. To treat her as an adult, capable of making her own decisions.

Tears blurred his image. Crossing the room, she knelt before him, shaping her fingers around his broad hands. “Oh, Papa. I do want you to be a part of my baby’s life... and my life, too.”

A husky sob broke from him. Somehow she found her cheek pressed to his chest, his familiar scent of cigars embracing her as warmly as his arms. He wept like the vulnerable man he’d hidden inside himself all these years.

“Princess,” he muttered. “How I’ve missed you. My daughter.” His sigh gusted against her temple. “Emily was my precious secret, but I’m glad you know at last. Will you forgive me for keeping silent for so long?”

“I have, Papa. I have.”

Watching them, Kent felt the shadows inside him shifting, lifting, like mist rising from a deep flowing river. Juliet nestled against Emmett, her cinnamon hair afire against his graying head, her fine features aglow with joy. Father and daughter. The similarities were striking in the eyes, in the stubborn set of the chin. Emmett Carleton had sired two fine women, each unique and noble, one inspiring an abiding affection, the other a vivid passion and consuming love.

His throat ached. Emmett loved her, too. No man could feign those tears, that quiver of emotion in his hands.

You’ve let hatred become too much a part of yourself.

Kent searched himself for the animosity that had ruled him for so many years. He found only a fathomless longing for light. The light Juliet had brought into his life.

Gloom settled over him. Shoving his fists into his pockets, he stared at her. She had pardoned her father, but his own sin had been the far greater one. With ruthless arrogance, he had abused her trust, duped her into marriage, and transformed a guileless girl into a disillusioned woman. He’d intentionally set out to destroy her father. She’d never forgive him. Never.

She sat back on her heels. “I’ve no wish to reawaken sad memories, Papa. But I must know. On the day Emily died, did you see her again? After that one encounter, I mean.”

He shook his head. “I went straight back to London. Dear God, I should never have demanded Dreamspinner. Through my own selfishness, I drove her to suicide.”

The grief on his face reached inside Kent. “No, you didn’t,” he said, striding forward. “I was wrong to blame you for her death. Emily didn’t take her own life.”

“How can you say that?” Emmett burst out. “God forgive me, I tried to condemn you for the deed, to ease my own guilt. But I should never have badgered her so, not when I knew about her spells of melancholia.”

She clutched his hands. “Papa, don’t torture yourself. Emily was murdered. The same person who killed her wants to kill me.”

The color drained from his face. “What?” he choked out. Leaping up, fists clenched, he swung on Kent. “Tell me this isn’t true, Your Grace.”

“It is.” In a brief, stark statement, he related the incidents of the greenhouse and the poisoning.

Agitated, Emmett prowled the room. “But who would want to harm my daughters? Unless it’s someone who hates me.”

“We’ve found precious little evidence,” Kent said. “The culprit could be anyone in the castle.”

Emmett shot an accusing look at Kent. “How could you have let Juliet stay here? Haven’t you any care at all for your own wife?”

The accusation cut deeply into Kent. He arched a sardonic brow. “Oh, yes, I care a great deal. If you can convince her to leave Radcliffe, you have my blessing.”

Stalking to her, Emmett seized her hands. “Princess, you heard him. We must leave at once for the train station. You can have your things sent on later—”

“No. I’m staying until I can bring my sister’s killer to justice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll not let you risk your own life.”

“It isn’t your decision to make, Papa. I’m a woman now, and neither you nor Kent will change my mind.”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. As if seeing her for the first time, he studied her resolute expression before swinging toward her husband. “Then I intend to remain, too. If you’ve no objection, Your Grace.”

Kent gazed at the man he had despised for too long. Emmett stared back with the frank expression of a man looking at his equal. Cautious sincerity eased the lines on his face, the green eyes rimmed with gold. Juliet’s eyes.

In breaking the chains of hatred, he and Emmett could forge a deeper bond... the bond of love for her and the bond of protection for the coming child.

He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Only if you’ll call me Kent.”

Emmett gazed at the extended hand, then slowly reached out to join the salutation. The firmness of his clasp echoed the candor in his gaze. “As you wish... Kent. I want you to know I never planted that opium... although when I got wind of the incident, I did call out those crusaders. I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done. This feud has gone on long enough.”

Thoughtfully Kent nodded. “Perhaps it isn’t too late to start anew. We’ve both harbored mistaken opinions.”

Standing to the side, Juliet marveled at the sight of her husband shaking hands with her father. Dare she believe that Kent had renounced the feud forever? Dare she hope he’d done it out of love for her? Or if he and Papa should disagree someday, would his ingrained feelings explode again?

Old habits die hard.

Studying the handsome features of her husband, she felt the weakening urge to trust him. But trust had broken her heart once already. Trust meant opening herself to the terrible risk of betrayal.

Emmett stepped back, his face grim. “We must find the scoundrel who would dare threaten my daughter. We’ll need to scrutinize everyone here.”

“I’ve a private matter to discuss with my cousin first,” Kent said. “In the meantime, gather your thoughts on the suspects. We’ll pool our impressions in an hour, over tea. Is that agreeable?”

“All right. Perhaps I’ll even poke around myself.”

“Go anywhere you wish. We’d like you to feel at home here.”

As they started down the winding stairs, Juliet felt the power of Kent’s gaze. Warmth stirred deep in her stomach, hunger for him.

Suppressing her dangerous yearnings, she hastened ahead and took her father’s arm. “How is Mama?”

“Well, except she misses you.” He patted her hand. “I know you’ve been corresponding with your mother, Princess. She thought to hide it from me, but her maid told my valet that Dorothea had sent along your wardrobe. I should have settled a dowry on you sooner.”

“You’ve been very generous.” Juliet felt a sudden wistful longing for her mother, for the familiar scent of violets and the comforting dullness of gossip. “Did you tell Mama you were coming to see me today?”

“No... I didn’t dare. She would have wanted to accompany me.”

“What will you tell her now?”

He shot her a troubled glance as they entered a long corridor. “I’ll send word that I’ve been detained on a business matter. But don’t condemn me as a liar, Princess. I see no sense in ever hurting Dorothea merely to unburden myself of guilt.”

Their footsteps echoed through the stone corridor. Mullioned windows let in a watery gray light that reflected off the ancient shields on the walls. He was right, Juliet reflected; sometimes the omission of a painful truth could serve as an act of love.

She angled a glance at Kent, who walked at her side, his dark head bowed in contemplative silence. In the days since their confrontation, his attempts at reconciliation had dwindled. She shuddered to think that the ending of the feud had come too late to save her marriage. Could he deliberately hold himself aloof as an act of love, because he wanted her to feel free to leave him?

I love you. Don’t ever forget that.

The memory of his words made her throat tighten. Yet he’d told her so many lies... Or had his concealment of Emily’s identity been less a lie than another act of love?

The noble answer gave Juliet pause. Perhaps it
had
been the desperate deed of a man wanting to shield his wife from a painful truth. A truth sure to sever the tender bonds of their marriage.

I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t have married me. From our first meeting, 1 wanted you to be a part of my life...

A knot formed in her chest. If only she could separate fact from falsehood, trust from doubt. If only she could verify that Kent loved her...

The pressure of her father’s hand on her arm brought her back to reality; they’d reached a guest bedroom near the ducal suite.

Longing shone starkly in Emmett’s eyes. “Juliet,” he said, “will you tell me everything Emily wrote about me in the diary?”

A wave of tenderness rolled over her. He
had
loved Emily, in his own fashion. “Later you can read it for yourself.”

“Watch over her well, Kent. The sooner we find the murderer, the sooner we can get on with our lives and our friendship.”

“I won’t let her out of my sight.”

Kent directed her back to the stairs. Now that they were alone, tension throbbed between them, a tension aggravated by her unresolved emotions. Her every step felt stiff and unnatural. She wondered at his aura of distraction, as if he were embroiled in deep, disquieting thoughts.

“Why do we need to see Gordon?” she asked.

His dark eyes glided over her. “I’ve been thinking about people and their obsessions. I’ve been blind about something... or at least I think I’ve been. We’ll find out in a moment.”

They reached the library, where he pushed open the massive door. The dim daylight dulled the barren bookshelves and antiquated furnishings. Speculating on his purpose, she followed Kent down the short leg of the H, to the second set of wings. A faint sweetish odor tainted the air, and now that she knew the source of the smell, her stomach churned with pity.

Gordon sat at the end of the long table, his shoulders slumped beneath the maroon smoking jacket. He looked blessedly lucid, his eyes alert behind thick spectacles. To Juliet’s surprise, Augusta occupied the seat to his left. The weariness of spent grief drew down her mouth. From the tense way she gripped his flawed hands, it appeared that husband and wife had been involved in a heated discussion.

“Pardon us for interrupting,” Juliet said.

Augusta released his hands and sat back, her face pale but composed. “It’s quite all right, Your Grace.”

Bracing both palms on the scarred oak, Kent stared down the length of the table. “I’ve come to ask you a question, Gordon.”

“Most assuredly, Cousin.” He tugged nervously at his cravat. “How may I accommodate you?”

“By giving me an honest answer. What do you know about the opium Father was accused of stealing?”

He went still; only his gaze shied away. “The opium? Emmett Carleton did that to discredit Uncle William.”

“I know. But I’ve just had an interesting talk with Emmett.”

Augusta’s jaw dropped. She turned to stare at Juliet. “Emmett Carleton is
here?”

Kent gave a curt nod. “As my honored guest. He claims no responsibility for the incident. A few months ago I would have called him a liar. But we’re through lying to each other now. Well, Gordon?”

“I...” He swallowed, the dry gulp audible.

“Tell him,” Augusta said flatly. “There’ve been too many secrets here. It’s cost this family too much.”