Page 41 of Tempting the Earl

Ainsworth planted her flour-covered hands on her hips. “I was distracted,” she muttered defensively.

“It appears you were distracted long before I arrived,” he noted quietly.

Aye! Because of you! she wanted to shout, her earlier frustration taking on a delicate, vulnerable quality in his presence.

Gratefully, she had enough sense to keep the exclamation to herself as she shifted the focus of the conversation back in his direction. With a challenging tilt of her chin, she asked pointedly, “Why are you here anyway?”

He met her gaze with an unflinching expression. “I heard a commotion while passing by and decided to investigate the cause.”

“Passing by? You just happened to be strolling along the servants’ halls?”

A pause. Then a sigh. “I’d been out in the garden—”

“At nearly midnight?”

“Yes,” he answered simply though his gaze had an electrifying effect in the dim, gloaming light of the kitchen. Like a spark of blue fire that shot straight through her. “I happen to enjoy the quiet of night and the scent of flowers beneath a starlit sky. Is that hard to believe?”

It wasn’t, actually. She gave a small shake of her head. “I find the same at Faeglen,” she murmured. “It seems contraindicated, but it can be verra comforting to stand beneath an endless night sky. It’s one of the few times being alone isnae lonely.”

“Are you often lonely, Miss Morgan?”

He’d stepped closer as they’d spoken and his increased proximity, added to the intent way he was looking at her, made her bones feel warm and soft. It took a moment to reply and when the words finally came, they were surprisingly honest. “Not often. But sometimes.”

“You’ve been on your own for a long time. I imagine it was occasionally rather difficult.”

Ainsworth nodded, then tipped her chin up and flashed a smile. “Luckily, I’ve always had Caillie.”

A shadow crossed his features as he nodded. It was quick, but it told her a great deal. He’d known loneliness too. Perhaps far more than she ever had.

Though speaking so freely surely crossed some unspoken boundary between them, once her next words formed in her mind, she couldn’t hold them back. “Your father,” she began gently. “He was horrible to all his children, wasnae he?”

He made a short sound of derision. “My father was a distinctly cruel man without an ounce of empathy in his soul for anyone.” A harsh twist curled the corner of his mouth. “Least of all, for me.”

Ainsworth shook her head. “But you were his son and heir.”

“He eventually seemed to acknowledge that truth, but there was a time—several years, in fact—during which he fully believed me to be another man’s by-blow.”

Ainsworth drew a swift breath in shock. Ridiculous! How could the man before her have been mistaken as anyone’s son but the earl’s? She’d seen the man’s portrait and the resemblance between father and son was uncanny.

Seeing her surprise, he explained, “As I understand it, my mother was deeply in love with my father when they first married. She was young and enamored by his handsomeness and the charm he wielded when it suited him. But it wasn’t long before she learned of his true nature—one fueled by selfishness and the need to control every aspect of his world to ensure it met his extremely exacting standards. Love cannot survive under such conditions and my mother’s tender feelings were no exception.

“When Father learned of her lovers, he exiled her from our lives and demanded she never show her face to him ever again.”

“How awful,” Ainsworth whispered. She knew well the pain of being disowned and tossed aside. She’d seen Angus do it to his own daughter and then again to his granddaughter. She’d seen it—but had never understood how a person could be so heartless and cruel to someone they supposedly loved. “Were you verra young?” she asked quietly, fearing the answer.

“I wasn’t yet two years old when the countess was forced away.” The earl’s tone and manner were flat and utterly devoid of emotion, which was telling in itself. “Her infidelity convinced him I wasn’t his son, but he still needed an heir for appearance’s sake. He acknowledged me to the world, but behind closed doors...he took great pleasure in making sure I’d never forget how unworthy I was of the title I’d someday inherit.”

“I’m so sorry,” she began, but he stopped her with a quick shake of his head and a hard stare.

“It’s in the past. I eventually learned that if I could avoid giving him any reason to denigrate me, he didn’t have much to say. At some point, he either came to terms with the fact I was indeed his son or he simply lost interest in tormenting me.” He shrugged. “After that, we mostly avoided each other.”

Ainsworth’s heart ached. His words told her far more than he might have intended. It was clear to her now that his heavily guarded emotions and fiercely stoic manner were defenses built up over the years to protect himself against a vicious father.

“Besides,” he noted thoughtfully, “his wrath was almost obsessively directed toward the woman who’d betrayed him. When he initially learned of my mother’s infidelities—before he even sent her away—his first act was one of revenge. To punish her, he intentionally set out to father a child outside their marriage. He wanted to demean and provoke my mother as he had felt demeaned and provoked. He had no thought at all toward the woman or child who’d be forever affected by his actions.”

He paused then as his gaze dropped to the floor. But only for a moment, as he lifted his chin to tell her the rest while meeting her gaze with a determined sort of honesty.

“I knew of Roderick’s existence for most of my life. Since his mother had been a member of the peerage, the story of her downfall at my father’s hand was well known. After the scandal, my father was able to continue his life as before. Roderick’s mother, however, became an outcast, surviving on a bare pittance after she was disowned by her family. So, if you sense any resentment in Roderick, I assure you, it’s quite justified.

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