Persuasion (13 page)

“Surprised or angry?”

Did he recall that Lucas had refused to allow him to call on her? It had been so long ago. “Lucas mentioned that he has seen you in town from time to time. He hardly seemed angry when he spoke of you.” She had no intention of bring up the past.

He sipped his wine. “I am on somewhat friendly terms with your uncle, Amelia. Lucas often stays with Warlock when he is in town, so our paths have crossed.”

Amelia hadn’t realized that Grenville knew her uncle. Sebastian Warlock was not close to Amelia and her siblings, although they had met a few times. “It is a small world, then.”

“Very.”

“I think Lucas will be surprised when he learns of my decision to become your housekeeper, but in the end he will understand why I made such a choice.”

He studied her. “We shall see. Are you sure you don’t want a small sip of wine or sherry?”

She almost felt as if the devil were offering her a terrible temptation. “No, thank you. In fact, in a moment I must go upstairs. Actually, there are some matters I was hoping to discuss with you.” Tension filled her. Somehow, she did not think they would discuss Lucille’s future calmly. “The others have arrived, in case you did not hear the commotion in front of the house.”

“I heard.”

“We need to discuss Lucille, Grenville.”

His gaze narrowed. “Lucille?” Abruptly, he stood.

She also rose, feeling defensive. “She has needed a name for the past ten days. You were very clear—you did not care what she was named. Apparently Lady Grenville favored the name Lucille. Therefore, that is what we have named her.”

“And what will you do if Southland changes it?” His eyes were hard.

“Who is Southland? Is that her father?”

“Yes, he is. Thomas Southland is the child’s natural father. I wrote him last week, telling him of the child’s birth.”

Alarm began. She was afraid and dismayed. “What do you mean, you wrote him? Do I know of him?”

“If you mean, is he a gentleman, the answer is yes. Elizabeth chose her lovers with care.” His face was entirely closed now. “I do not think she ever dallied with a stable boy.”

“That is a terrible thing to say!”

“Well, I could be wrong. For all I know, she slept with my gardener.” He suddenly finished his entire glass of wine and set the glass down on a side table.

His wife had hurt him. Hadn’t she? Why else would he speak so disparagingly of the dead? “I am so sorry that Lucille is not your daughter.”

“I’m not. However, her birth is highly inconvenient.”

“Simon, stop! You can’t mean it—”

“I do mean it. She never told me she was with child, Amelia. Warlock told me when it became obvious. I had asked him to keep an eye on my sons, while I was in the north. I didn’t even know she was fleeing to Cornwall to have the child. I don’t know what she planned. Perhaps she meant to have the babe in secret, and then to cast her off to a convent orphanage.”

Amelia was aghast. “No mother would so such a thing!”

“Ah, so you keep faith in a dead woman—my dead wife.”

He was mocking her. “You are speaking very poorly of her.”

“Yes, I am.”

It wasn’t her place to ask, but she blurted, “Why didn’t you like her?”

“It was my duty to marry and beget heirs, not my duty to like her.”

“But you could have chosen a different bride.”

He raised a brow. “I chose to do as my father wished, Amelia. Perhaps I should have objected, but I did not—because I didn’t really care. My marriage was going to be arranged for all the right reasons, one way or another.” His smile was derisive. “But we took a mutual dislike to one another from the moment we were engaged.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“I am not my brother.”

It took her a moment to comprehend him. “Elizabeth had wanted to marry William?” And she thought about how different the two brothers had been.

“They had met several times. A marriage between them had been discussed.” He poured another glass of wine. “They made an attractive couple. I think they would have gotten on.”

He was being so calm. She ached for him. His wife had wanted to marry his brother. How could that have not hurt him?

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to comfort him. Instead, she clasped her hands tightly together. “I am so genuinely sorry that you and Lady Grenville both suffered as you did. And even though it doesn’t matter, I thought the two of you very well matched.”

“You would.”

She knew she could not delay any longer. She inhaled. “Simon, Lucille is an innocent child. She has done no wrong. She has lost her mother and she needs a father now.”

“Then you should hope that Southland comes to retrieve her.”

She was stricken by his cold response. “Is that what you have asked him to do?”

“Of course I have!” He snapped. “I have no desire to raise that bastard!”

Tears arose. She didn’t even try to wipe them away. He was dead set against Lucille. She had to find composure, she had to think! “Did he know she was carrying his child?”

“I have no idea.” He spoke very calmly now. “After all, she did not confide in me.”

He was in so much pain, she thought, but he would never admit it.

“Stop looking at me with pity,” he warned.

“I don’t pity you.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

Amelia gave up. She went to him and took one of his hands in both of her smaller ones. “You are hurt. You are wounded. It is understandable. But you are a good man! And when some time has passed, when your wounds are not so raw, I know you will feel differently about Lucille.”

“Do you really think it wise to offer me comfort now?” he asked, his gaze suddenly bright.

Her heart was pounding. Did he think to turn this into a seduction? For one more moment, she held his hand. “You need comfort, Simon.”

“Do you also think it wise to continue to call me Simon? Our love affair ended years ago.”

She tensed and glanced at the open doors, but no one stood there.

“Yes, there is a house full of servants—and servants talk.” He shrugged his hand free of hers abruptly. “This is dangerous ground, Amelia.”

“Even you admitted that we are friends. Friends comfort one another, Grenville, in a time of need.”

“Ah, so some common sense returns—it is Grenville again.”

“What has made you so dark and so frightening? It cannot simply be marriage to a woman you did not love!”

“So I am dark and frightening now?”

“You have changed entirely!” she cried.

“Well, we finally agree upon something.” He sauntered away from her and sank down on the sofa, almost slumping. He glanced up. “I asked you here because my sons need you. We both know you accepted this position because the boys lost their mother. I do not need you, Amelia. I do not need your comfort. But, if you keep offering it, you might become very sorry, indeed.”

“Are you threatening me?” she cried, in disbelief.

“We both know an attraction remains.” He shrugged.

He was so casual and complacent about it! He was right that an attraction remained and his boys needed her. But Simon was wrong about needing her. He was wounded, although she did not know how. Whatever had caused his wounds, it was far more than a failed marriage.

She thought about his terrible reaction to the banging shutter last night.

He eyed her from where he was sprawled on the sofa.

“Why do you keep a loaded pistol in that drawer?” she asked. “Why were you afraid of whomever you thought was at your door last night?”

He smiled, but it was a ruthless baring of his teeth. “London is filled with crooks, cheats and thieves.”

“Oh, please! Thieves do not knock!”

“As you have noticed—and as I have pointed out—I have changed.”

“You ran to the door with a loaded gun!” she cried, refusing to back down. “I am very worried about you, Simon. You have said some very strange things—you have behaved very oddly. If I can help, I wish to do so.”

His stare was unwavering. “I am sorry, because I did not mean to frighten you last night. Life changes everyone, Amelia, and it has certainly changed me. I suppose my behavior is, at times, odd. You are already helping.” He attempted a smile and failed. “My sons really do need you. You must focus your compassion upon them, not me.”

In that moment, her determination to help him through whatever struggle he was in was fierce and consuming. She was so thankful she had taken up her position in his household. But she would have to be far less direct, if she wished to aid him.

“Are you scheming?” he asked softly, his gaze riveted upon her face.

She went to the sofa and very carefully sat down at one end. He was in its middle. “I wish to discuss the boys’ schedule with you.”

His regard moved over her features with care. “We can do so in the morning.”

“Good. But perhaps we should finish discussing Lucille and her future.”

His gaze wandered over her mouth, then returned to her eyes. “I hadn’t realized we were discussing Lucille’s future.”

“Do you think Southland will come?” She fought the tug of despair. It would be right if the infant were reunited with her natural father.

“I don’t know. Perhaps not. He is a bachelor, with a reputation.”

Her heart sank. “He will not come, then. A bachelor cannot possibly raise his illegitimate child!”

“Perhaps his parents might step forward. Amelia...are you dismayed or pleased?”

She clasped her hands in her lap, sitting erectly. “I want what is best for her.”

“Yes, you probably do. But you have become far too fond of her already.”

“How can anyone not fall in love with her?”

He pushed both feet to the floor, sitting up more correctly. “You are twenty-six years old. Yet you have never married, and you do not have children of your own.”

“We are discussing Lucille.”

“Yes, we are—and she is not your child, Amelia, nor is she mine. But it is glaringly obvious that you have sacrificed your life to the care of your failing mother.”

“It is a sacrifice I am gladly making,” she said, meaning it.

“But look at how happy you are, being here in my home, caring for my boys and Lucille.”

She leaped to her feet. “I do not see the point you are making.”

He sighed. “I am not sure that I was making a point. Perhaps, though, you should consider marriage. You surely need a family of your own.”

“And then who would take care of you and your children?” she cried.

His gaze widened. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.

She realized how her comment had sounded and what it had implied. She flushed. “I do not have any suitors, Grenville.”

His expression was impossible to read.

She twisted her hands. “What will happen if Southland doesn’t come?” she finally asked.

He sighed. “I am not completely without morals, or as irresponsible as is so commonly claimed. I will raise Elizabeth’s bastard if I have to.”

Her relief knew no bounds. “I knew you would do what is right. Thank you, Grenville.”

“You are attached.” His gaze narrowed.

“Yes, I am attached.” And she thought about how much his entire family meant to her. For one more moment they stared at one another, and then she excused herself and fled.

* * *

T
HE
KITCHENS
WERE
SPOTLESS
. Amelia smiled at Jane, Maggie, Cook and Harold, wishing everyone good-night. She would see them at six the next morning.

“Thank you for your help today,” Maggie said warmly, before leaving.

When everyone was gone, Amelia locked the kitchen door and bolted it. She felt very pleased. It had been a long but good day.

Lucille had been fed and was now sleeping. Amelia had taken some supper with her mother, and encouraged Momma to go to bed early, as she was so clearly tired from the journey. Before she had come downstairs, she had made certain her mother was getting into bed. She had also looked in on Lucille one last time. She thought about the infant’s natural father, who very well might not come to claim her, and was saddened.

Her day was done. Her only regret, she thought, was that she could not go up and say good-night to the boys. The one thing she knew she must not do was venture into Grenville’s family rooms.

Amelia blew out the last candles and left the kitchen. Was she being a fool? Was she worried that, if she went upstairs in the west wing, he would seduce her? She knew better than to dally with her employer, past history or not. Still, she had wanted to offer him some comfort earlier. But he had immediately turned her attempt into something with sexual overtones. She would have to be careful about how she approached him in the future, she thought. When his behavior became suggestive like that, it unnerved her.

Her heart skipped. She must not become attached to Grenville. A friendship was tolerable, as long as her affection remained only that. She must focus her compassion on the children, as he had said.

She dismissed the nagging of worry, pausing in the foyer. The house was so quiet. She held a taper and she could see into the east wing, just slightly. The library doors were open and a fire blazed within the room, filling it with light.

Her heart turned over. She would love a drink, but tonight she should skip the nightcap, as Grenville was obviously up and about. The previous encounter with Grenville remained fresh on her mind. It felt dangerous to even think of venturing into his company. She should make certain a decanter and a glass were left in her room.

But she would have to slip by the library to go upstairs. If he noticed her, she would simply nod and increase her pace, she decided.

Amelia entered the hall. She glanced into the library, expecting to find him standing there. But he was not anywhere in the room.

As she looked within, she heard a harsh, guttural cry.

She faltered. The sound had been hoarse and either sexual or filled with pain.

“God help me,” Simon cried.

She gasped, because his words were so clearly anguished. She rushed forward. When she crossed the library’s threshold, she saw Simon lying prone on the couch. One arm was flung upwards, and he was asleep.