Page 62 of Lord of Temptation
“As you unravel the mystery of me, perhaps you’ll become quite un-enthralled.”
“Impossible. I suspect there is always a new mystery to discover.”
“I’m not comprised of as many secrets as you. Tell me of your boyhood, of why you ran away. What did your uncle do that made you believe he would kill you?”
The teasing left his eyes as he sighed. “It was long—”
“Yes, I know, long ago,” she said impatiently. “But it made you the man you are. You can’t deny that. It was one thing when I thought you were a ship captain, but now that I know you’re a lord ... Tristan, I don’t know what to make of you.”
“I’m the same man that I was on the ship.”
She flattened her hand against his chest. “But there are so many layers to you. Please reveal this one so that I might understand why you didn’t tell me who you were sooner.”
He studied her for a moment before releasing a gust of air. “Pembrook. The family estate. More castle than manor. Built before the days of Henry VIII, but used as a stronghold and a prison for that king. It had a dungeon for tormenting those who did not support Henry and a tower for housing prisoners. For adventuresome boys, it was a wonderful place steeped in history. Sebastian and I used to go down to the dungeon and try to scare the other by saying that we heard ghosts. I loved it there. I think he did, too. It was home.”
He said the word with a longing that tore at her heart. She understood the history, the traditions, the legacy attached to an ancestral home. She had grown up being taught to appreciate those who had come before her, those who had paved the way for her family.
“I was a child when tragedy struck you,” she said quietly. “I barely remember anything that I might have been told. What happened to your father?”
“He died when his horse unseated him, but none of us ever believed it was an accident. His skull was crushed. Uncle said he fell on a rock. We always believed Uncle David bashed his head in. Then after Father’s funeral, when all the guests had departed, Uncle locked us in the tower.”
“Your mother—”
“Died in childbirth.”
“You must have been so afraid being all alone.”
“It was winter. Bitingly cold. We had no light, no blankets. No moon filled the heavens that night.”
She realized he didn’t acknowledge her statement. Rather, he focused on everything that had been going on around him instead of what was happening within him. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Perhaps another reason prompted him to put you in the tower.” She couldn’t imagine anyone setting out to murder young boys.
“Mary heard him plotting our deaths. She lived on an adjoining estate. She’d come to see Sebastian. They were close.”
She thought of the lovely woman she’d seen dancing with Keswick. She couldn’t have been much younger than they. “She helped you escape?”
“Yes.”
“I remember vaguely hearing that something had happened to the lords of Pembrook. I suppose I was about nine at the time.”
“What tale did you hear? That we were eaten by wolves, died of the pox, or were stolen by gypsies?”
She skimmed her fingers through his hair, hating the thought of anyone hurting him, and knowing that so many had. “Wolves. My brothers relished telling me the gory details. I remember having nightmares about it. So you went to the sea.”
“Sebastian thought we should all separate. Rafe was only ten so we left him at a workhouse. I went to the sea. Sebastian went to the army. We were supposed to return ten years later to reclaim our heritage, but war kept him away. The sea did the same for me. But eventually we met up and the Lords of Pembrook returned to Society—much to Society’s chagrin.”
Again, he made it sound as though he’d endured little more than a sniveling nose. She cradled his firm jaw, realizing that he must have shaved between the time he left the ball and the moment he stepped through her window. She couldn’t imagine her brothers climbing trees and scrambling through windows. “Only because you’re quite different from everyone else. They’re not quite certain what to make of you.”
“You give them far too much credit. They despise us.”
“Not you so much as perhaps the adventurous lives you’ve lived.”
“I, for one, could have done without the adventures, thank you very much.”
She was familiar enough with his back to know how awful some of them might have been.
