Page 29 of A Bonny Pretender
“She lied to me, and she lied to her husband. The man I thought was my father—” He laughed, a harsh sound. “He was unscrupulous in business and not a pleasant man, I’ll admit. We didn’t get along most of the time, but he was still my father…”
“And yet?” Miss Evelina prodded gently.
He ran a hand through his pale blond hair. “I think of the years I spent caring for her, and my reward was a deathbed confession. But some sins can never be forgiven.”
“Did she tell you who your father was?”
Frank looked at her, horrified he’d shared so much. “I must apologize. I had a shock tonight, and I’m not myself. I don’t usually rattle on about my affairs.”
“I’m glad to listen.”
He turned to her, thinking how much he would enjoy getting to know this gracious woman. “Yes, that’s why I came to London. I wanted to see him, meet him. Now that I’m here, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s better to leave the past in the past. What would it change?”
“Does he know he has a son?”
He swiped his hand over his face. “A by-blow, you mean.”
“My heart hurts for you, my lord.” She sighed. “It must be like the crumbling foundation of a building and one day, the entire structure gives way. Will you contact him?”
He shook his head. “I doubt it, but I apologize again for burdening you with my woes. I’ve been brooding over this for weeks…”
“Sometimes it’s easier to share your feelings with a stranger. I promise it will go no further.” She touched his arm again, and he tensed. “I hope you come to terms with it and find your father.”
“Lord Raines?”
His head jerked up at his name. “Yes, Miss Evelina?” He closed his eyes at the misnomer. “I am sorry, Lady Brecken.”
“Don’t worry, my lord, I’m still not quite used to being Lady Brecken.” She crossed her arms. “Before my husband and friend finish the next set, I think we need to clear the air.”
“Then let us return to the private parlor.” Charles wore a martyred expression and waved an arm to allow Lady Brecken to precede them.
Behind the closed the door, she spun on both of them.
“Three men disappear from a ball. One returns, mottled and angry. The next two appear. One is flustered and at wit’s end. The other is livid and drags my mother home on the spot. A woman, may I remind you, who rarely submits meekly to her husband’s commands.” Hands on her hips, she glared at them. “It seems to me, an unpleasant conversation happened between this trio, and I want to know what’s going on!”
The responses came at once.
“It’s nothing.”
“A misunderstanding.”
“My father is one of the most even-tempered men I know. Charles, you are the worst of liars. And you”—she wagged a finger at Frank—“have a secret. It’s all over your face.”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you at this time,” Frank said, shaking his head. If Sir Horace did want to attempt some kind of friendship in the future, he couldn’t start by breaking his word now. To his surprise, he wanted that. When Frank had mentioned his mother’s death, pain had flickered across Sir Horace’s face. He had loved Lady Raines. So perhaps there was a chance for the two men she’d loved the most.
Lady Brecken tapped a soft leather shoe against the carpet, lips pursed. Her head cocked to one side, Frank watched her eyes dart from his face, down his length, and back to his face. His stomach plummeted when her soft brown eyes widened. “That night last summer, when we spoke on the balcony, I had the strangest feeling.” She tapped her mouth with a forefinger.
Bloody hell!So much for secrecy. His parentage would soon be in theon-dits.
“Lord Raines, how old are you?”
That wasn’t the question he’d expected. “Twenty-seven.”
“Thank heavens!” she exclaimed. “It was before he married my mother.”
