Secrets of Seduction (22 page)

Skye had not looked forward to the evening ahead, but it turned out to be more pleasant than she’d anticipated. At her insistence, they took supper in the drawing room, with the various dishes laid out on a side table, much like a buffet supper at a ball. Skye claimed that not only was the dining room too formal
for the four of them, it still needed to be cleaned and made habitable. Additionally, the warmth of the hearth fire made the drawing room more appealing.

From Hawk’s sharp gaze, she knew that
he
knew what she was doing: protecting him from his dark memories. She also wanted to make his newest guest feel at home, so thankfully he refrained from chastising her and actually joined in the effort to make Rachel’s first evening as comfortable as possible.

After supper they played cards. There was no music, for the pianoforte was dreadfully out of tune, and Skye decided that singing would be too effusive. But in the future, she intended to introduce music as well as charades and other parlor games and perhaps poetry readings to the evening’s entertainment.

When it was time to retire to bed, Rachel’s grateful-if-weary smile was all the reward Skye needed, yet Hawk also seemed more at ease than before.

In fact, the next two days proceeded better than Skye could have hoped for. She kept a close eye on Hawk, but the new aura about the castle seemed to have a positive influence. He spent most of each day out in the stables or in the meadows riding and training his new stallion to escape the noise from the construction, which at times was deafening. Skye stayed busy setting his home to rights, wearing her oldest gown and a muslin headscarf, not only supervising the servants in cleaning, but performing a myriad of other tasks. Aunt Bella and Rachel pitched in and were especially helpful in deciding whether to replace or refurbish the furniture, carpets, and wallpaper and in discussing the best fabrics and colors.

Another accomplishment was the disguise to better
conceal the baroness’s former identity. The henna dye arrived from Macky by special messenger, and Isabella set to work transforming Rachel’s hair from gray-streaked brown to an attractive shade of auburn, so she could abandon the turbans. Carefully applied cosmetics—particularly kohl to make her eyes appear more exotic—also created a much different look from her miniature portrait.

On the afternoon of the second day Skye had to deal with another big obstacle. She was upstairs with Rachel and the housekeeper, inventorying linen, when one of the new footmen announced that Lord Cornelius Wilde had arrived and was awaiting her in the library. Her pulse suddenly quickened in anticipation, but Rachel went rigid with fear.

Skye offered her a heartening smile. “Pray continue with the inventory, Mrs. Donnelly. I will send for you when the time is right.”

If
the time is ever right, Skye amended silently as she hurried downstairs. She still had a great deal of persuading to do.

She had asked for her uncle to be shown into the library for a reason. It was where the dedicated scholar was most comfortable, for one thing. Additionally, he would consider it criminal that the leather-bound tomes had been neglected and allowed to gather dust and mildew for a decade.

As expected, he had donned his spectacles and was examining the shelves closely, a disgruntled look on his lined face.

Now over sixty, Cornelius had silvering hair and heavy eyebrows. His tall, refined build and high-boned features lent him an unmistakable aristocratic
elegance. Yet as a brilliant classics scholar, he had a vague, unfocused air and was uncomfortable in most social settings. To Skye, he was the dear, dear man who had given up his quiet, intellectual life to raise five rambunctious, irrepressible orphans.

After warmly embracing him, Skye removed the holland covers from a leather couch and made him sit beside her.

“As I said in my letter, you know that Aunt Bella and I are helping her good friend Lord Hawkhurst renovate his home. I have hopes that you will help save his library.”

“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, “of course I will help. In truth, I am eager to begin. That is a priceless edition of Aristotle’s
Nicomachean Ethics
simply rotting on the shelf.”

“There is another, more important, reason I asked you here, Uncle.”

“What could be more important?”

Skye took a breath. “I have some news that I think you will welcome. At least I hope you will be pleased.”

As Cornelius sat waiting expectantly, she swallowed, realizing she was highly nervous herself. “The thing is, Uncle … I have a confession to make. Some months ago, I found your love letters to Baroness Farnwell.”

His blue eyes narrowed, as if he was disappointed in her. “I thought I had those well hidden.”

“You did.” Skye cleared her throat, feeling once again like the child her long-suffering uncle had tried to discipline after catching her in some mischief or other. Not wanting to become sidetracked, she plowed on. “It seems that you loved her very much.”

“I did.”

“How do you feel about her now, after all this time?”

He looked taken aback by her question.

“I know I am prying,” Skye hastened to add, “but it is not mere rudeness. I have a good reason for asking.”

His eyes clouded. “I never stopped loving her.”

“Then what if she didn’t drown all those years ago?”

Cornelius blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that … Rachel Farnwell is still … alive.”

Disbelief warred with hope on his features as he reached out to grip her arm. “What the bloody devil are you saying?”

Unlike his charges, her mild-mannered uncle never cursed. The urgency in his tone was a measure of his shock, Skye knew, so she hurried to explain how Rachel had been so desperate to escape the abusive baron, she had staged her drowning and fled to Ireland.

When she was done, Cornelius sat there unmoving, trying to digest her revelation. He seemed stunned as if by a blow.

“Rachel is still alive, Uncle,” she repeated, prodding.

“Dear God.” His mouth was trembling as he worked to suppress strong emotions. “All that time … I never knew.”

“Would you like to see her?”

He shook himself and focused his blind gaze on Skye. “See her? How is that
possible
?”

“She is here now, at Hawkhurst Castle.”

“In … in this very house?”

“Yes. I couldn’t rest until I knew what had become of her, so Hawkhurst escorted me to Ireland to try and find Lady Farnwell.”

“And you actually did?” he said in wonder.

“Yes, and even better, we brought her home to England with us. She still loves you, Uncle.”

“Dear God,” he repeated. Shock and amazement shone in his expression. “She is truly alive?”

“Indeed. She is upstairs now, waiting for me to summon her. Would you like me to fetch her now?”

“I will need a moment to absorb …”

“Of course,” Skye said sympathetically. She suspected he had a multitude of questions, but for now accepting the truth was the most important thing. “I will leave you alone for a while.”

When she made to rise, however, Cornelius’s fingers closed around her wrist again. “No, I want to see her. Now, at once.”

“Then I will bring her to you.”

Nodding, he released her arm. As Skye reached the door, she heard him let out a long, shuddering breath, as if still not able to believe that a fantastic, cherished dream was coming true.

When Skye returned with the baroness, she found her uncle standing frozen in the middle of the library, watching the door as if not daring to breathe.

Clutching his box of letters, Rachel stepped over the threshold tentatively and then halted, staring back at Cornelius and drinking him in.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I could
not believe my ears when Skye told me you had not perished after all.”

“I am so terribly sorry,” she whispered. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive. You acted to save your life. Can you ever forgive
me
for not knowing that brute was beating you?”

She gave a soft sob and pressed a hand to her mouth.

“Why did you never tell me, Rachel?”

“I did not want to put you in danger.”

“My God, Rachel …” Cornelius’s tone held helplessness and frustration. “You were all alone.…”

From her vantage point just outside the library door, Skye couldn’t see Rachel’s face but knew tears were streaming down her cheeks. “No, I was not alone. I had your memory.”

“My dearest love …” He took a small step toward her, then halted as if not trusting the reception he would receive.

The same questioning caution sounded in Rachel’s tone when she spoke next. “Am I your dearest love, Cornelius?”

“Yes, of course you are.”

She shuddered with relief. “I didn’t dare hope. Even when I learned you kept our rose pressed among my letters.”

“I wanted a remembrance, however painful it might be. I mourned you for a long while, Rachel. In truth, I never recovered.…”

His own voice broke, and he brought a shaking hand to hide his eyes. He was choking on his own tears, Skye realized, her heart going out to him. Only once before had she seen her uncle so emotional, the day
the terrible news came about the shipwreck that had killed his closest relatives.

Not wanting to intrude on their tender reunion any longer, Skye backed away and quietly shut the library door, intending to allow them privacy to become re-acquainted.

When she turned, wiping tears from her own eyes, she nearly ran into Hawk, who had been waiting in the corridor.

“Well?” he said, watching her.

“I think it went better than I could have hoped for.” Skye gave him a watery smile. “I have dreamed about this moment since I first learned that his love was still alive.” She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder at the library door, then sought his gaze again. “Thank you, Hawk. This never would have been possible without you.” On impulse, Skye stepped forward and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw in gratitude.

The gesture was simple and friendly, but his hands moved to her waist. When she recognized the sudden flash in his eyes as heat, her pulse leapt. He was looking at her as if he wanted her.… For a fleeting moment, she thought he might return a more passionate embrace. But then his expression shuttered, reminding her that he intended to keep their relationship strictly formal from now on.

“I’m certain you would have managed without me,” Hawk said before turning away.

Skye quelled a sigh as she watched him walk down the corridor. It was frustrating, not knowing how she could persuade him to reconsider, but for now she would let herself relish the moment when her beloved uncle found the love of his life once more.

*  *  *

It was an hour later before Rachel sought her out. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and yet she looked happy.

“Cornelius loves me still,” she effused once Skye had ushered her into the nearest empty room so they could be alone. “I cannot believe it.”

“You agreed that a love as strong as yours would not easily die.”

“I know, but even so … I want to pinch myself. Is this truly happening?”

“Yes, dearest Rachel.”

“Cornelius actually wishes to marry me.”

Skye felt surprise and delight at the same time. “He proposed?”

“Not in so many words. And I was glad he did not press me.” Rachel’s expression sobered, her smile fading. “I could never accept his offer until I tell him about his daughter, and I cannot bring myself to tell him yet. He will hate me when he learns I concealed such an enormous secret from him.”

“I am certain he won’t hate you, Rachel, but perhaps that knowledge would be too much, coming so swiftly after he learned you had risen from the dead. What did you say to his implication about marriage?”

“That I couldn’t decide just now. That I needed time to consider.” She gave a faint sob that was half laughter. “Cornelius is resolved to court me as he never could before. He says he will have to rely on you and Lady Isabella to advise him, since at his age, he knows nothing about romance.”

“I think he is doing quite well on his own,” Skye
said, amused at the thought of her elderly, staid, bachelor uncle seeking her advice.

Rachel’s face suddenly clouded. “There is still a great need for secrecy. We have no idea how Edgar Farnwell would react if he learned of my resurrection.”

“True.”

“Cornelius and I mean to follow Lord Hawkhurst’s suggestion. We will pretend that we have just met and that we are falling in love for the first time.”

“I think that is a perfect plan. You can take your romance one day at a time.”

Rachel took Skye’s hands. “However can I thank you?”

“By making my uncle happy,” she answered earnestly. “I promise you, that will be more than enough thanks.”

The castle had
yet another visitor that afternoon: the Bow Street Runner charged with investigating the late Baron Farnwell and his son and heir, Edgar. Hawk was closeted with Horace Linch for the better part of an hour, but by the time Skye learned the caller’s identity, he had already departed.

Wanting to know what Linch had said, she went in search of Hawk and was told the earl had gone to the stables. When she reached the stable block, though, she found he had ridden out on his new stallion.