Lord Brendan was a problem, though. She knew he’d still insist on having that discussion about Royce, and she was in a poor position to continue her lies about being his mother. When Brendan demanded the truth, as she knew he soon would, what could she tell him that wouldn’t end up breaking her promise to Garnette?
CHAPTER 9
Brendan knew he had to get away from Shannah—he just didn’t know how to manage it. He was too keenly aware of how right it felt to hold her close, of how good she fit in his arms. It surprised him to realize that she wanted him to kiss her, but her shy looks made that perfectly plain.
Regardless of what he thought—or even might feel—toward Shannah, their first priority needed to be that child, and sorting out the truth of his parentage once and for all.
For that he’d have to be strong. He would not be able to distance himself from her yet, something he sorely needed. Distance, and time, to sort out his jumbled feelings.
Brendan left Cinnamon in the capable care of a groomsman and carried Shannah to his study, despite her protests that she could walk. He didn’t closely examine his motivations for that as he placed her in one of the high backed chairs, preferring to believe his actions were magnanimous rather than selfish.
Millie bustled in before he could ring for her. “Oh, my lord! We’ve been watching for you. I see you brought her back unharmed.” She knelt beside the chair. “Shannah, dear, are you all right?”
Shannah nodded. “I am now. Lord Brendan and his men rescued me.”
“She’d been kidnapped by pirates,” Brendan said.
“Oh, my!” Millie turned adoring eyes on her employer. “Bless you, my lord, for your quick thinking—as if you knew she was in danger.” She turned back to Shannah. “I’m going to fetch you some hot tea and biscuits, love. That will make you feel better.” She hurried away, shaking her head and muttering about Shannah’s ordeal.
“She cares for you a great deal,” Brendan told her.
Shannah smiled after Millie. “She’s a wonderful woman. I’m grateful to have her friendship.”
Brendan turned another chair and sat across from her. “I know you’ve had a hard time of it, Shannah, but I feel a sense of urgency about our talk. Do you feel up to a discussion about your family?”
Shannah lowered her gaze to her hands. “I told you all that you needed to know last night, my lord. There is nothing more to say.”
“I disagree.” He put a hand under her chin and gently urged her to look at him. “I’d say there’s quite a bit more to be said on the subject.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
He should have expected the tears, but for some reason they caught him by surprise. He released her chin and leaned back in his chair. Shannah blinked furiously, and Brendan watched a lone tear escape and roll silently down her smooth cheek. His hand itched to brush it away, but he withstood the urge.
“I need to know, Shannah,” he said at last. “And my brother deserves the truth.”
Shannah bit her lip and shook her head, but wouldn’t look at him.
Brendan sighed, unsure how to proceed. Surely she knew that her lies wouldn’t hold against the obvious truth. Why did she cling so desperately to her falsehoods?
He put the question to her, but Shannah just shook her head more furiously and swiped at fresh tears on her cheeks.
He tried to pull away mentally and look at the situation with clearer eyes. He knew his certainty that Chris had fathered a child clouded his judgment. So did his as yet undefined feelings for the girl sitting before him.
The door of his study burst open and his mother entered, or rather swept dramatically into the room. Her black silk gown rustled with every step and the oversized plume on her golden turban drooped behind one ear. When he turned to look at her, she smiled and spread her arms wide, erasing a look he couldn’t quite identify. Concern? Fear?
“Why, Brendan, I’m surprised at you. How utterly inappropriate for you to close yourself in here with this child,” she said. She put a hand on Shannah’s chair, barely sparing her a glance.
Brendan’s eyes sought Shannah’s face, but what he saw there worried him. She looked up at him in stark terror and he had no idea why.
“Mother, please, I’m conducting an interview at the moment,” he told her.
Elspeth Wyndham laughed at him. “Why ever for? Household servants are Mrs. Scrab’s responsibility, and her duty is to report to me since I’m still mistress of this house.”
Brendan didn’t feel the need to argue the point with her. Technically, she was correct, but his mother had always been more concerned about the latest fashions than how the household ran. He didn’t want to explain to her that the weekly “reports” Millie gave her mistress were only a fraction of what was actually going on in their household. He handled the bulk of it, as had his father.
Instead he thought it best to get rid of her quickly so he could focus again on Shannah. “What is it that you need, Mother?”
“I’m in crisis, truly,” she said, putting a hand to her forehead. “I just received word that the beaded headdress I’d commissioned to wear at my birthday banquet won’t be ready in time! You must write to the jeweler this instant. I have to have that headdress. All of my friends will be expecting it!”
Brendan didn’t immediately reply. This was her idea of a crisis? He’d just found out about Royce the night before, Shannah had nearly been abducted by pirates, yet his mother fretted over a headdress?
He stopped himself from making a cutting remark and remembered there was much going on his mother knew nothing about. Had his father done this as well, kept the grittier facts of life from her? In truth, Brendan has almost forgotten about the banquet and subsequent celebration in the light of his new discoveries.
Before he formed a reply there was a knock at the open door. He looked past his mother to Mrs. Scrab, holding a tea tray and waiting expectantly.
His mother looked over her shoulder. “Ah, excellent timing, Mrs. Scrab. Please take this child to the kitchen and see to her needs. My son has no time for such nonsense.”
Millie’s brow furrowed. “But, my lady . . . “
His mother raised an imperious eyebrow, a skill she had perfected over the years.
Millie bowed her head. “Yes, my lady. Come Shannah.”
“Do leave the tea, please,” Elspeth commanded. “I feel peaky.”
Millie hurried to the table and set down the tray, then took Shannah’s hand and led her from the room. Brendan watched his jacket fall from Shannah’s shoulders with some regret. For a moment he stared at it lying on the chair.
His mother sighed with satisfaction. “There, that business is settled. Now about my letter. Brendan, are you listening to me?”
“That was unforgivably rude, Mother,” he told her in a low voice.
She looked surprised. “They’re only servants, Brendan. They understand their place.”
Brendan bit his lip to keep from arguing and picked up his jacket. It was still warm from Shannah wearing it—not that it came close to fitting her slender frame. He barely noticed his mother watching him as he slid his arms into it.
She went to his desk and pulled out a spare sheet of parchment. “Now, then, about my letter.”
Brendan looked at her expectant face, then at the doorway. He should go after Shannah; he had to settle this business about Royce. But he knew with equal certainty he couldn’t walk out on his mother.
“Very well,” he said as he walked around his desk and sat. “To whom am I writing?”
CHAPTER 10
Shannah cradled her teacup in both hands and sipped, desperately wishing she could stop shaking. She’d almost panicked when the Viscountess had entered the study. She was so wrapped up in her own worries she nearly didn’t hear Millie call her name.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“Poor lamb, you’re all out of sorts.” Mi
llie put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I was only thinking that perhaps you should go home. You’ve had a terrible ordeal. We could call for the carriage; I’m sure Lord Brendan wouldn’t object. I don’t want you walking alone ever again.”
For a moment escape sounded ideal, but Shannah knew Lord Brendan most certainly would object to her leaving now. She’d gotten a reprieve but eventually he would force the truth from her, and she had no desire for that to happen in front of the children.
“I can’t go home now,” she said, forcing a smile. “There’s so much to do before the banquet, and only three days left. We’re shorthanded as it is.”
“I could prop Jayne in a chair with a pillow under her foot, and she could peel potatoes or pluck chickens,” Millie said. “There’s plenty she could do that wouldn’t require much movement.”
Shannah patted Millie’s hand on her shoulder. “I promise you that I’m all right. Matt would only worry about me if I were to go home now.”
“You’re such a brave girl.” Millie gripped her hand briefly before releasing her. “Whatever would I do without you?” Her kind eyes brimmed with tears.
Shannah set down her cup and got to her feet, wrapping both arms around her friend. “There, there, none of that. I’m not going anywhere.”
Millie pulled away and wiped her eyes with her apron. “I feel so silly having you comfort me when you were the one nearly spirited away.”
“It’s all right. I’m humbled by how much you care about me.”
Millie smiled at her. “But you are right about all the work to do, my girl. Perhaps if we throw ourselves into it, we won’t have any energy left to fret.”
How magical that sounded to Shannah, even if it would be exhausting. To forget all her worries? Yes, please. “Let’s get started.”
But no matter how much Shannah swept, plucked, chopped, and boiled, she couldn’t forget that any moment Lord Brendan would send for her. Every few minutes her eyes went to the doorway, half expecting to see him there watching her. The only benefit was that it kept the memory of the pirates’ rough hands and lewd suggestions at bay.
Luncheon had been served and Shannah was pulling the last dozen tart shells from the oven before she heard her name. She turned to find Sithers, the under butler, at her elbow.
“Lord Brendan would like a word with you, miss,” he said.
She nodded to let him know she understood and watched him leave the kitchen. Alice stepped forward with outstretched hands.
“I’ll take these,” the girl said. “You go.”
Shannah set the tray on the counter beside Alice and took off her apron, draping it over a hook by the door on her way out. She smoothed her hair back on her way to the study. There wasn’t much she could do to tidy up after hours of cooking and cleaning, but she did her best before knocking on the open door.
“Come in,” he said.
She obeyed, slowly.
“Close the door please, Shannah.”
The click of the latch seemed oddly depressing to her. She didn’t turn back to him right away, but pressed her forehead against the door and took a deep breath.
“Come along, now. Sit.”
What could she do? Shannah crossed the room and took her place on the chair he’d indicated. She folded her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting and looked up at him.
Why did he have to be so handsome?
The thought made her blink and look away. She couldn’t let him distract her in that way. She had to stay strong for Garnette, for Royce, and even for Matt and Kora.
To her utter amazement, Brendan knelt in front of her and took her hands. She was too surprised to object, and almost of their own will her eyes swept his face.
She saw compassion there, and patience—neither of which she expected.
“I have just spent the better part of the day locked in here with my mother and her party plans,” he said. “When she finally went upstairs for her afternoon nap, I sat here going over every word you and I have spoken to one another. I’ve rehearsed this conversation in my head a dozen times, trying to imagine all the ways it could play out.” He squeezed her hands gently. “I know there’s something I’m missing, Shannah, something you haven’t told me. I think you’re afraid, and I’d like to help you. I’d like it if we could sort out this problem together.”
Just like that, the fight left her. Everything she’d rehearsed in her mind to protest his understanding of the truth seemed ridiculous. Her eyes filled with tears as she realized she was about to break her most sacred promise.
“Curse you,” she whispered, pulling her hands away. “Why do you have to be so kind?”
Brendan used his thumb to brush away her tear. “I only want what’s best, for everyone concerned.”
She shook her head, the last vestiges of her denial. “He’ll take him away from me.”
“Christopher?” he questioned.
Shannah nodded.
“I can’t deny he has some rights to the child, and I don’t think you can either.” Brendan wiped away another tear but didn’t take his hand off her cheek. “But so do you. Surely we can work through this issue together.”
“I promised her on her deathbed I wouldn’t let that happen.”
Brendan closed his eyes briefly, and nodded his understanding. “Your sister?”
“Yes.” Shannah looked away, ashamed. “You’re forcing me to break my vow.”
“What did you vow, exactly?”
“I promised her that I would never let your brother find out about Royce,” she whispered. “She was so afraid, so insistent. That scared her more than dying did.”
“Did she say why?”
“No,” Shannah admitted. “She may have, had there been more time. But she died so quickly after his birth. There was nothing I could do.”
Brendan pulled her into his arms and Shannah gave in to her tears. She sobbed all over his shirt, not considering how wonderful he smelled, or how gently his arms wrapped around her body. She didn’t consider the impropriety of it all—she only accepted the comfort one person offers another.
Her tears subsided at last and Brendan handed her a handkerchief. “You didn’t break your promise,” he told her. “You didn’t tell me anything. I flatter myself that I figured it out on my own.”
Despite herself, she smiled. “Did you now?”
“Well, Christopher helped,” he said.
Shannah turned to look at him. “Then he knows?”
Brendan shook his head. “Not yet, but I think we should tell him.”
“Then what did he say that made you guess the truth?”
“He told me how much he loved your sister, and how it broke his heart when she died.”
“He didn’t love her,” Shannah said. “He used her.”
This time it was his turn to look surprised. “I can’t believe that, not after what he told me.”
“Then maybe you should hear what Garnette told me.”
CHAPTER 11
“My sister loved your brother,” Shannah began, moving out of his arms and back to her chair, “but she never forgot their differences. Garnette knew their union was doomed from the start.”
“Then why pursue it?” he asked, sitting in the chair across from her.
“She couldn’t deny her heart. Every time she fought against her love for him, she was miserable. And I have to say she was miserable to be around.” Shannah gave a small smile. “I didn’t understand it at the time for I was so young, but now I can recall her horrible melancholy and know she was fighting her attraction to him.”
“Chris said he wanted to marry her.”
“Garnette told me that his parents—your parents—objected to the idea most strenuously,” she said. “She tried to give him up then, one last time. She couldn’t bear the idea of tearing him from his family, even if it meant her happiness.”
“She sounds like a rare woman,” he observed.
“My sister was the best of women, as was m
y mother. She trusted your brother’s declarations of love, perhaps more than she should have, and believed he’d return to her nearly up to the end.”
“Nearly?”
“He was sent away to school and Garnette waited every day for a letter from him, but she never received one. Not one, my lord. Does that sound like the action of a man in love?”
“He said he wrote to her,” Brendan argued. “She never received one of his letters?”
Shannah shook her head. “I was there, every day, watching her pine for him and grow thin and pale. Mother became concerned when Garnette began to refuse food. Up to that point she had written him faithfully, even though she never received a reply. Around that same time, Mother and I realized she was increasing.”
“Did she never write Chris about the baby?”
“My father did,” she said. “At first he was furious, but he quickly realized his anger did little to help the situation. He and my mother spoke about going to your parents to see if they would consent to a marriage, but I don’t know if they ever did. The one time they mentioned it in front of Garnette, she flew into a rage. To me she seemed more terrified than angry, but she insisted they not tell your parents.”
“Why?” Brendan asked. “I’m sure they would have consented to a marriage.”
“She never explained her reasons, and we were all so concerned for her health that we didn’t want to upset her.” Shannah sighed. “She was still so frail, it was as though every nourishment she took went straight to the baby instead of her. I think her heart was broken, and only your brother’s return would heal her.”
“But I know he wrote to her,” he insisted. “And if she wrote to him, why did he never receive her letters?”
“It’s possible, my lord, that your brother wasn’t as noble as he’d like you to believe,” she said softly, without any hint of malice. “They were both so young, and they made mistakes. Or maybe he chooses to remember it differently.”
Lord Brendan frowned. “The same could be said about your sister.”
“You forget that I was there, too. I watched helplessly while my sister died inside, long before the fever took her, because your brother abandoned her. When the illness came, the stress of our parents dying and the toll the fever took on Garnette’s body forced her into labor.” She shuddered, her mind lost in memories. “I helped her birth Royce, and when she saw he was a son, she was overcome with panic. She made me swear that your brother never find out about him. She said I had to protect him.”