Fanning the Flame (25 page)

The champagne arrived and they all toasted Jillian’s innocence and the man—whoever he might be—who had apprehended Colin Norton.

"We know what you've been through since Lord Fenwick was killed," the duchess said to Jillian. "We thought that perhaps you might like to stay with us for a while . . . until you can decide what to do about your future."

"Thank you, that's very—"

"That's a very generous offer," Adam cut in before she could accept. "But it won't be necessary." The duchess took one look at the determined expression on his face and any argument she might have made stayed locked behind her lips.

"I believe what Adam is saying is that he intends to see to your welfare," the duke said diplomatically, casting a look at his friend. "As you already know, you're in very good hands, but if there's anything you need, we'll be happy to help in any way we can."

She managed to smile. She didn't like Adam's interference, but she owed him a very great deal. He had saved her life. She would respect his wishes in this—at least for a while.

"As Lord Blackwood said, your offer is extremely kind. I'm indebted to you both for your help and support and honored by your friendship."

The duke and duchess seemed pleased. They departed the house soon after, and the moment they were gone, Adam turned to face her.

"I know this isn't the time. You're obviously exhausted. But tomorrow, we need to talk."

Jillian nodded, though she wasn't looking forward to the conversation. She knew what the Earl of Blackwood wished to discuss. He might have apologized for his behavior, but he hadn't changed his mind. And in that regard, neither had she.

She refused to become his mistress, and no matter what the future might hold, she wasn't going to sell her soul to the devil. Even if this particular devil was handsome as sin and she was in love with him.

Though Rathmore's news had lifted a terrible weight from her shoulders, Jillian thought of Lord Blackwood and the battle he intended to wage and wearily trudged up the stairs.

Adam had departed on business. Jillian was in the breakfast room when Maggie Hawthorne arrived at the town house early the following morning. The
Times
contained the story of Lord Fenwick's murder and the arrest of his ex-solicitor, including the fact Colin Norton had been caught embezzling money from Lord Fenwick's accounts. Though the authorities hadn't officially ruled out Jillian as a suspect, it appeared likely they would do so very soon.

"It is simply wonderful news," Maggie said, taking a seat in a yellow damask chair across from her. A footman hurried to bring her a plate of teacakes and fill a silver-rimmed cup with hot cocoa. "I'm terribly happy for you, Jillian."

Though the hour was early, Maggie wore a fashionable high-waisted plum silk gown that complemented her flawless complexion and the braided black coronet of her hair. She was young and incredibly lovely, and Jillian prayed the scandal that had blackened her family name wouldn't destroy her future.

"Norton's arrest is a dreadful weight off my shoulders," Jillian told her, "though I am somewhat up in the air as to what I am going to do now that this is behind me."

"Yes, I imagine you are. I hadn't really given it much thought, but I don't believe my brother will abandon you. It simply isn't his nature."

"Actually, I was hoping that perhaps you could speak to him in my behalf. I'm going to need a means of supporting myself. Do you think you could convince your brother to help me find a suitable position?"

Maggie's sleek black eyebrow arched. "A suitable position? You mean you intend to seek employment?"

"After my father died, I tutored some of the children in the village. I thought perhaps I might find work as a governess."

"I've always supposed I would marry. I can't imagine what it might be like to control one's own destiny as you intend to do, but I believe in some ways I would like it. And I'm sure my brother would be happy to help. Why don't you simply ask him?"

"I have. He won't even consider it."

Maggie set her cup of cocoa back down in its saucer. "For heaven's sake, why not?"

Jillian looked down, saw that the hand on the napkin in her lap was fisted so tightly the skin was bleached white.

Maggie reached over and touched her arm. "You mustn't worry, Jillian. It's obvious my brother cares for you a very great deal. Surely he has something in mind—" She broke off at the pallor on Jillian's face. "Oh, my God."

Reading Maggie's too-perceptive thoughts, Jillian swallowed. "It isn't . . . isn't as bad as all that. I mean . . . your brother isn't . . . he isn't . . . it isn't as though I'm still . . ." She broke off, groping for a better choice of words.

"I think I know what you are trying very hard
not
to say. The two of you have already been lovers. That is it—isn't it?"

Jillian didn't answer.

"Adam said you were not Lord Fenwick's mistress, merely his ward. He knows that for a fact, doesn't he?"

Jillian looked away. "Yes." She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with the innocent young woman who was the earl's sister. "We shouldn't be talking about this. It's highly improper and I'm sure your brother would greatly disapprove."

"Oh, fiddle-faddle. My brother can go hang. He refuses to realize that I'm a grown woman and not nearly as naive as he would like to believe." She sighed. "I should have expected this. Do you love him?"

As much as she might wish it weren't true, there was no reason to lie. "Yes."

"Oh, dear, I was afraid of that. He won't offer marriage, you know. That is the reason he has offered to act as your protector."

"I know the way he feels. He has never lied about his intentions. And even if he did wish to wed, I am hardly the sort of woman an earl would choose."

Maggie got up from her chair and began to move restlessly around the room. Pausing near a Hepplewhite table along the wall, she picked up a small Egyptian terra-cotta jar. "Adam says you're practically an expert on this stuff."

Jillian smiled. She walked over to where Maggie stood next to the table. "My father was the expert."

"Do you know how old this is?" Maggie held out the jar for Jillian's inspection.

"From the geometric patterns, I'd say it's Late Pre-dynastic, somewhere around thirtieth century b.c. But the study of Egyptian history is only in its earliest stages and at this point much of it is guesswork."

"Adam has been collecting Egyptian antiquities ever since he traveled to Egypt with the army. My mother bought this for him from a dealer in the Strand." Maggie set the jar on the table.

She studied Jillian, her thoughts shifting again. "It's all Caroline's fault, you know. If it hadn't been for Caroline Harding, Adam wouldn't feel the way he does about women."

Jillian focused her attention on the jar, nervously adjusting it to its original position on the table. "Do you think he is still in love with her?"

Maggie released an unladylike snort. "Hardly. I'm not sure he ever really was. But I was young then, so I can't know for certain. I told you once my brother has never been lucky when it comes to women. Perhaps I should tell you about Maria Barrett."

Jillian's pulse accelerated. She remembered the night Maude had mentioned Adam's involvement with the woman. "Would you? I've heard whispers. I should like to hear the story very much."

"My brother won't like it, but sooner or later, you'll probably hear the whole of it anyway. The gossip was terrible when he first left the army. At least what I tell you will be the truth."

The two of them returned to the table and Maggie briefly relayed the tale of Colonel Barrett's beautiful, exotic, half-English, half-Spanish wife.

"She and Adam met when my brother was on the Continent, perhaps six months before he sold his commission and left the army for good. One of Adam's fellow officers, a friend of his named Anthony St. Regis, told me the story. He said it was better I knew the truth, and he didn't think Adam would tell me."

Jillian's heart thudded uncomfortably. "What did St. Regis say?"

"That Maria Barrett was nearly irresistible where men were concerned. Half the soldiers in the regiment fell in love with her the moment they saw her. She could have had any one of them, but it was Adam she wanted. Perhaps because, according to St. Regis, my brother was determined not to get involved with a fellow officer's wife."

Jillian almost smiled. "That sounds like Adam. He can be very gallant at times."

"Maria became obsessed with seducing him and apparently in the end, she succeeded. Adam was half in love with her by then, and according to St. Regis, she had convinced him that if he asked her, she would leave her husband and marry him."

"What happened?"

"St. Regis claims Maria never had the slightest intention of divorcing Colonel Barrett. He had money and social position far beyond what my brother had at the time. One night the colonel caught them in bed together. Maria claimed Adam had forced his way in and tried to rape her. The colonel called him out. They dueled with sabers, but Adam barely defended himself. That is where he got the scar along his jaw. I think he sees it as a reminder that he should never trust a woman—at least not completely. And that is the reason he has vowed never to wed."

The lump that had risen in Jillian's throat grew more painful as she thought of another betrayal Adam had suffered. "Thank you for telling me."

Maggie reached over and clasped her hand. "I know this may sound terrible, but perhaps you should consider my brother's offer. Even if things didn't work out, Adam would see you were well taken care of."

Jillian tried to smile. "I'm sure he would." But she still couldn't agree. She simply couldn't live with herself.

"I'd better be going." Maggie came to her feet, bent and kissed Jillian's cheek. "I know at times he can be difficult. He's stubborn and occasionally hot tempered, and far too used to being in command. But—"

"But he's a very good man," Jillian finished. It was the reason she had fallen so deeply in love with him.

She had to get out of his house, had to get away from the Earl of Blackwood before he convinced her to do something she would regret for the rest of her days.

Jillian walked Maggie into the foyer, her mind on the earl and her uncertain future. Reggie draped Maggie's quilted pelisse around her shoulders and Maggie bid her farewell. Unfortunately, that was the very moment little Christopher Derry came thundering down the stairs.

"I didn't realize Adam had company," Maggie said in surprise, gazing at the boy who had spotted them before he reached the bottom of the stairs and now looked as though he wanted to turn and run back up.

It was hardly the occasion Jillian would have chosen to introduce the child, but there was no help for it now.

"Do come down and join us, Chris." He did so shyly, staring up at Maggie with a mixture of interest and reluctance.

"Maggie, this is Christopher Derry. Christopher, this is Lady Margaret Hawthorne, Lord Blackwood's sister. You may address her as my lady."

Christopher attempted a shaky bow that made both women smile. He no longer wore the threadbare garments he had arrived in but was dressed today in the fashionable clothes the earl had provided: tailored brown corduroy breeches, a white lawn shirt, and a darker brown tailcoat that set off his green eyes and wavy dark brown hair.

Jillian glanced from the boy to Maggie, who was studying him with far too much interest. Jillian didn't know exactly what to tell her and the silence began to lengthen.

"And Christopher is . . . a friend of the earl's?" Maggie prompted, urging her to say something more.

"Yes . . . yes, he is."

Maggie knelt beside the boy. "Are you here all by yourself, Christopher?" He nodded. "You're a very handsome boy. How old are you?"

"I'm gonna be eight next week. That's what Vicar Donnellson said."

"I see." And from the assessing look on Maggie's face, it appeared that she very well might.

Jillian took the boy's slim hand. "I think Cook has been baking sugar cookies this morning. Why don't you go and see?"

His solemn expression brightened. He smiled and raced off toward the kitchen. Jillian thought she recognized that smile. By the wide-eyed look on Maggie's face, apparently so did she.

"That little boy isn't . . . he isn't who I think he is . . . is he?"

Jillian sighed. "He might be. The vicar Christopher mentioned brought the child to Blackwood Manor. Adam thinks the boy is his cousin's illegitimate son."

Maggie stared down the hall toward the kitchen. "He does have Robert's brown hair, but he looks more like . . ." Maggie shook her head, unwilling to voice what each of them was thinking.

"Adam is determined to keep this quiet," Jillian warned. "He doesn't want any more scandal."

"Believe me, I couldn't agree with him more." As Maggie made her way out the front door and down the steps to her waiting carriage, Jillian thought of Adam, understanding him now in a way she hadn't before. It made her love him all the more—and made him an even bigger danger.

Jillian shivered as she walked back into the house.