Page 68 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
He swung his gaze back to her, and she saw a humbleness in his features that she’d never before seen. “I remember when I first saw you. You were lying in your bassinet. I was all of eight. My mother was holding my hand. She leaned down and said, ‘You will marry her someday.’ We are fated, you and I, whether we like it or not.”
She liked it not one whit, and if she’d learned anything from meeting Mick Trewlove, it was that destinies could be changed.
Sitting behind the desk in his office, Mick stared at the deed that had been given to his brother, who now lounged in a nearby chair with a smirk of satisfaction. He was familiar with the small estate of Candlewick, but then he’d made himself familiar with all of the duke’s holdings—the entailed and the non.
“He just handed it over to you?” Mick asked.
Aiden studied the nails of his right hand as though trying to determine if they were in need of another buffing. He didn’t know anyone who was so fastidious about his hands. “I told him I couldn’t continue to loan him money without some sort of collateral—as he’s yet to pay back a penny owed. Apparently his father has signed all the nonentailed properties over to him. He was quite boastful about it.”
Things were happening, coming together, much more quickly than Mick had anticipated. “Although I knew he had a gambling habit, I didn’t realize he was so remarkably reckless with it.”
“He’s reckless with everything.”
Including Aslyn. The man was not aware of the treasure he held, was in danger of losing. May have already lost. He was so unworthy of her. Leaning back in his chair, Mick tapped his fingers on his desk. “Loudon Green is the one I want. Everything falls apart without it.”
“For you or for them?”
Both.“For them. It accounts for the majority of their income. They can’t support the other estates without it.”
“I find it difficult to believe you sprang from the loins of a man with no business acumen whatsoever. What possessed him to give his scapegrace son such a valuable property?”
“Because he’s his legitimate son. Takes no more than that for the duke to trust him with his valuables—his name, his titles, his legacy.”
“But surely he must know the trouble his heir is heading toward.”
Mick doubted it. The man never seemed to take much interest in anything beyond his wife. On the one hand, he wanted to admire the duke for his devotion to his duchess, but he suspected that devotion had resulted in him being handed over to Ettie Trewlove. God forbid the duchess discover her duke had sired a by-blow.
His actions wouldn’t gain him legitimacy, but they would prove he didn’t belong in the gutter. He might be a bastard, but he came from nobility—and that would make him worthy of Aslyn.
Chapter 16
“Another package delivered secretly.”
Nan didn’t sound too pleased, possibly because the package was larger than the others, not easily hidden within the folds of her skirt.
Aslyn rolled out from beneath the covers, walked over and took the long, slender box from her maid. She carried it back to the bed, opened it. Nestled inside was a beautiful white lace parasol, the note accompanying it lengthier than any of the ones that had come before.Someone I hold in high regard once told me white goes with anything.
He held her in high regard, remembered her words. Clutching the note to her breast, she knew she shouldn’t be so pleased by the knowledge, and yet she was. Kip was wrong. Mick wasn’t using her; he had a care for her. She imagined how lovely it would be to begin each day with sentiments expressed by him.
Taking out the parasol, she held it aloft. “Where the devil does he do his late-night shopping?” she wondered aloud.
“My lady, all of this is very improper. He’s improper, not the sort with whom you should have secret trysts.”
Not the sort with whom she should have public trysts, either. Then she saw the second note, one that had been hidden by the lacy contents of the box.The Trewlove Home, he’d written, along with an address. Her heart very nearly stopped, as her first thought had been that he was inviting her to tea at his mother’s. Quite suddenly, she realized he was referring to the orphanage, not his mother’s home. Silly girl, to be so disappointed.
“We need to dress for going to an orphanage today,” she told Nan. “We’re to be subtle in our leaving, as I don’t wish to upset the duchess.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“And we shall need to stop at a toy shop on the way.”
She brought a hoard of toys with her, and the orphans gathered around her like she was the Pied Piper. Lowering herself to the floor, giving no thought to the dirt that would infect her lilac skirts, she hugged each and every child who approached. Her laughter floated on the air, a wispy trill that rivaled that of the nightingale in beauty. Her smile wreathed her face, and he thought of the joy she’d show to her own children, the love she would shower over them. How fortunate those children would be.
Standing with his back to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, he took her in as though he were a parched flower and she was both rain and sun offering life. It was obvious she saved her longest, tightest, warmest hug for Will. He found himself envious of a scrawny little urchin.
Finally, she lifted her gaze to him and gifted him with a lopsided, almost shy smile. It was a hard blow to the gut, a kick to the groin, a punch to the chest. No other woman affected him as she did. He should avoid her at all costs, but convincing himself to do that would be no easier than convincing the sun not to show itself at dawn. If she were near, he would always look for an excuse to close the distance between them.
“All right now, that’s enough,” he shouted, shoving himself away from the wall. “Thank Lady Aslyn and be off with you. No sense in suffocating her for her kindness.”
