For Her Spy Only (Entangled Scandalous) (7 page)

Chapter Nine

A
listair slipped from the bed and donned his clothes. Winifred slept deeply, her breathing even and calm. Momentarily he thought to kiss her head before he crept from her room, but instead he merely turned and left. The stairs to the first floor were just around the corner, but something caught his eye.

A boy stood down the corridor, small, wide-eyed, one hand on the doorknob to what Alistair assumed was the boy’s sleeping chamber.

Alistair took a step toward him. “Are you looking for your mother?”

The boy shook his head.

“Do you need anything?”

He merely looked up at Alistair with his big, green eyes. Eyes that seemed oddly familiar. With one more glance, the boy opened his door and slipped inside.

Alistair turned to go. Winifred’s son. He’d seen glimpses these past few days of what she was like as a mother. She was obviously concerned with the boy’s education and his safety. No doubt she was comforting and loving. Everything his own mother had not been. She’d thought him peculiar and simple. Oliver was a fortunate boy to have such a loving mother.

…

W
hen she’d woken up that morning and found Alistair gone, and the bed where he’d been cold and empty, Winifred realized she could not continue their relationship. Being in his arms was wonderful, but the aftermath when he was vacant was too much for her to endure again and again. She wanted all or nothing and she shouldn’t have to settle for anything less.

Remy and Emma’s hospitality had been welcoming, and for a moment she’d entertained the thought of the four of them dining together, laughing at the adventures in spying. But that entire scenario was ludicrous. Winifred had to face that there would never be a future between her and Alistair. So as soon as Remy told her that her house had been secured and guards placed around it, she took Oliver home.

She’d been told that Alistair had already arrived and was at work in the map room, earnestly trying to decipher the code. She knew that she needed to talk to him, to cut things off with him and end their would-be affair.

She bolstered her courage to tell him precisely that.

He was diligently writing when she entered the room, but he lifted his head and gave her a slight smile. “I trust you slept well.”

She had, better than she’d slept in years, until she’d realized him gone.

“I cannot have an affair with you,” she said quickly before she lost her nerve.

“I believe you already have. Twice.”

“Yes, well, that is all. I will not keep doing this.” She hadn’t walked any farther into the room so the distance between them was vast, her by the door and him all the way at the far table.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“You have no notion how very difficult it was for me that first time. To try and forget you.” She tried her best not to wring her hands, but her efforts were futile.

“You married rather quickly, so I doubt that my memory plagued you for too long.”

It was on her tongue to tell him that she’d grown rather fond of him. Perhaps she’d even fallen in love with him. Loved him still. “I know that you do not feel the same and I am not asking you to. But you storm into my life and leave a wake of pain when you leave. It’s wonderful while you’re here, but the after?” Her shoulders wilted. “I simply cannot put those pieces back together.”

“You were younger then, much less worldly. I suspect you fancied yourself in love when truly it was merely the blush of losing your virginity.”

He was so coarse sometimes. Hurtful when she knew he didn’t intend to be. It was simply his way.

“What if I do not wish to let you go?” he asked.

She dared take several steps farther into the room. “You can offer me nights of wonder, pleasures that I can scarcely imagine. But in the mornings, I’m left with an empty and cold bed. It is more than I can endure.”

“So you would rather be alone all the time than merely alone in the mornings?”

She gave him a wistful smile. “Precisely.”

“That makes no sense, Winifred.”

“Perhaps. But I must do what I must.”

He was quiet for a few moments, then said, “I spoke to your son last night.”

Her heart stopped. “You did?”

“On my way out of your room, he was standing in the corridor. He didn’t say anything.”

“He doesn’t.”

“He is bashful, then?”

“No, he doesn’t talk. Yet.” She nodded, but was unsure if she was trying to convince Alistair or herself. “But I know it is only a matter of time.”

He looked up at her, his face pale. “I have to go.” He gathered his materials.

“Are you finished with the code?”

“Nearly.” And with that he left the room. Left her alone. Again.

…

A
listair had left shortly after the exchange with Winifred. He was quite close to deciphering the remainder of the code in the book, and in the process had made a truly disturbing discovery. But he’d had to get away from Winifred. He needed to be alone. To think.

But that wasn’t going to happen. When he got to his townhome, he was informed that Remy was there. Alistair stepped into his study. He might not be interested in a social call, but Remy’s presence would solve one problem. He could tell him what he’d discovered about the journal. Alistair didn’t know about everyone in the Seven, but he knew he trusted Remy.

“I’ve already talked to Harrison about my discoveries, but you might as well know, too,” Alistair said.

Remy waved his hand. “No, I came to talk about something else.”

“I’m not in the mood for a social call.”

“It matters not what you’re in the mood for. There are things we need to discuss.”

“I decode the journal, that’s the extent of my involvement in these investigations, you know that.” He took a seat behind the desk. “But I do trust you, which is why I will tell you a disturbing thing I have discovered while working with Comfry’s journal. I’m fairly certain that the main traitor we seek, the one we’ve been commissioned to find, is a member of the Seven.”

Remy frowned. “You’re quite serious.”

“I’m always serious.”

“Be that as it may, that is not why I am here, though obviously this news needs to get to Harrison straightaway.”

“Why are you here, then?” Alistair asked.

Remy eyed him for a minute or so, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell me you haven’t completely missed it? You, who notice nearly everything the rest of us never notice.”

“What the devil are you talking about?”

“The boy, Alistair, certainly you’ve noticed the similarities. For Christ’s sake, he looks like you. Not to mention the mannerisms.” He blew out a breath. “I would have known he was your son anywhere.”

The room tilted and Alistair focused on Remy’s words. Of course he’d begun to suspect that very thing, but to hear the words “your son” was too much…

“Why didn’t you ever tell us you had a child?”

“I—I didn’t know.”

Remy released a curse. “She hasn’t told you.”

All Alistair could do was shake his head. But then a thought hit him and he came to his feet. “I need to go.”

“Of course. Obviously you and Winifred have much to discuss. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

But Alistair slipped out of the room before he could hear more. At the moment he had nothing to say to Winifred.

It took nearly twenty minutes for the carriage to get him to the Piccadilly area. Alistair slammed the knocker onto the door of one Mr. Bellford. The man appeared shortly thereafter.

“My lord,” he said, obviously surprised at Alistair’s visit. “How may I help you?”

“I have questions,” he demanded.

The man granted him entrance and led him to a small study. “Do you wish for tea?”

“No. What are you tutoring the boy? What are you teaching him?”

The man’s eyebrows rounded. “I thought you knew. Your letter was quite insistent that I take this position. I assumed you knew… He does not speak. I’ve had some luck with such cases.”

“He does not speak at all?”

“No, my lord.”

Panic seized Alistair, but he forced out the next question. “Is he a simpleton?”

The man smiled warmly. “Quite the opposite. He is remarkably intelligent. Can already do arithmetic and knows how to read. He simply does not speak the words, though I suspect he knows plenty of them.”

Alistair fell into the chair behind him and stared at the fireplace void of any flames. Now he knew why those eyes looked so damned familiar. Winifred’s son. His son.

“I believe the boy will speak eventually, he merely hasn’t needed to at this point.”

It wasn’t that simple, Alistair knew that, but he nodded. “Thank you for your time.” Then he stood and left. Now he was ready to speak to Winifred. It was time she told him the truth.

…

W
inifred pulled Oliver closer to her. “Were you out looking for me last night, my sweet?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I know you met one of Maman’s friends. Were you not sleeping?”

He tapped on the book.

She fought off the frustration at his silence. She knew he could talk if he wanted to, and sometimes she got so angry. But patience was the key. She opened the book and began reading. He snuggled in closer to her.

A commotion came from the corridor and then the door opened.

“My lady, I tried to stop him, but he was rather insistent,” Polly said.

Alistair stood there looking far more harried than she’d ever seen him. His eyes fell to the boy nestled to her and the muscles in his jaw ticked. “A moment, please, Winifred.”

“Polly, take Oliver upstairs. We shall finish this book later, my sweet.”

Oliver stood and stared at Alistair, then scurried out of the room.

Alistair’s eyes turned to her. “How could you?”

He knew. The room spun around her and she was thankful she still sat. She concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out.

“Damnation woman, answer me! The boy is mine, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “I tried to tell you. Once.”

His head cocked to one side and one eyebrow lifted. “I don’t recall.”

“You were not there. I went to your castle, but you were away, working on some assignment, they told me.” She stood, but didn’t dare step any closer to him. She’d never seen him angry, so full of emotion. “Being at Coventry Hall reminded me of our time together and all of the things you told me. You were quite specific when we made love that there was not to be a child. You took precautions.”

“Precautions that are quite obviously not foolproof.”

“Obviously.” He was quiet for a moment and she put her hand on his forearm. “Alistair, you don’t need to do anything. You never wanted children, you need not feel obligated—”

“You don’t understand!” he said louder than he’d intended. “That thing that is wrong with your boy, I did that to him.” He jammed a finger in his chest.

Realization crashed over her. “That’s what you believe? That you’re somehow defective? Is that what your wife told you?”

He looked up at her, raw emotion etched in his features. She would remember that face the rest of her life. It was nothing but pure anguish. “Who hurt you so badly?” she whispered.

“I do not need nor want your pity.” He stormed out of the room.

Since the moment she’d discovered she carried his child, she’d imagined many scenarios in which they’d have this discussion. None of her imaginings could have prepared her for this.

Chapter Ten

Wi
nifred paced the length of rug laid out in the corridor of Remy and Emma’s home. It was the first time she’d even known Alistair had friends, and she was grateful she’d met them. The butler had gone to retrieve them since Winifred had explained that it was an emergency that she speak with them.

Remy was the first one down the stairs. “Is everything all right with Alistair?”

She shook her head. “He’s not injured, if that’s what you mean.” She took a sobering breath. “Could I ask you some questions about him?”

He gave her a kind smile and led her to a parlor. “Sit, I’ll ring for tea.”

“That won’t be necessary. I spoke with him and he knows that my son is his son and, well, he’s obviously quite angry with me for keeping such a secret.”

“I might have had something to do with that. I didn’t realize he didn’t know.” He squeezed her hand. “I am truly sorry for that.”

“It matters not now. And he deserved to know the truth, I was simply too scared to tell him myself.” She frowned. “He said that the thing that is wrong with my boy came from him. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“The not speaking,” Remy said.

“Yes, but how could Alistair have done that to him?”

“Alistair is a peculiar fellow. Certainly you’ve noticed that.”

She managed a small smile. “He is different, I suppose, but he’s intelligent and passionate and can be humorous, when he wants to be.”

“I don’t know the full story, but I’ve heard that he was quite old before he spoke. His parents believed him a simpleton and sent him off to live with his grandfather. The old man was patient with him, kind and gentle, and eventually Alistair learned to speak, but he’s always been the way he is.”

“He was afraid of passing on his speech issues to children, I can understand that, but he seemed quite…”

“His wife, she killed herself.”

“Yes, I know that much. Though many believe he pushed her.”

“People say foolish things to create scandal where there is none. And Alistair feeds those rumors because he’s reclusive and aloof.”

That certainly made sense.

“She jumped off that cliff, though, because she got pregnant. She told him she couldn’t bear the thought of birthing a creature like him.”

Her heart shattered at the words. Poor, dear Alistair had been terrified of getting another woman pregnant. “That was very unkind of her.”

“That’s a mild understatement,” Remy said. “She was a nasty woman. I never cared for her myself. She was the younger sister of one of my friends. Sarah was selfish and superficial. She hated Alistair because he didn’t spend his life worshiping her, telling her how beautiful she was. I suspect she would have tossed herself off a cliff no matter whom she married. No man would have ever been enough for her. But Alistair will never see it that way.”

“Of course not.”

“Give him some time. I’m certain he’ll come around. It is quite obvious that he loves you. He merely needs time to come to terms with that.” He chuckled. “Alistair has believed for a long time that he’s above the baser emotions of us mortals. And it certainly took a very special woman to crack into his heart.”

“I doubt that, but it is certainly kind of you to say.” She gave Remy a smile.

Remy squeezed her hand. “You love him, do you not?”

“Yes, I have for years.” She had suspected all along that she’d loved him, but it seemed ridiculous to fancy herself in love with someone she’d had a brief affair with years ago. But she knew now, without a doubt, that Alistair Devlin had her heart. It was hard to not be in love with him when she saw him reflected in her son’s face every day.

“Don’t give up on him.”

She wouldn’t, but she felt certain that Alistair had already given up on her.

Two weeks passed and she heard nothing from Alistair. Then out of nowhere, he sent a carriage for her and Oliver requesting their presence at his townhome. Once they arrived, she was ushered into a parlor, but the butler led Oliver to meet Alistair somewhere else.

When her boy looked at her over his shoulder, uncertain of what to do, she gave him a warm smile.

“Go ahead, my sweet. I shall be right here waiting for you.”

He nodded and left.

In the weeks that had passed, she had taken the time to tell Oliver the truth about his father. She hoped one day that Alistair would want to be a part of the boy’s life, but she didn’t make Oliver any promises. He had seemed confused at first, but as the days progressed, he’d warmed to the idea and had started asking when he could see Alistair again. Well, he’d asked in his way, sitting in the window and watching and waiting.

She waited ten minutes before going to find them. After searching the first floor, she eventually found them in a room on the second floor when she heard Alistair’s voice. She did not enter, merely stood in the corridor outside the room.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Oliver?”

Oliver must have nodded because Alistair replied, “Good. I know it is difficult, but you mustn’t get too discouraged. Do you see all of these tools and books that I have? I use them for a very important task for the King. Did you know that I work for His Majesty? It is very important work, and because my mind works differently than other people’s, I am able to do things that they cannot do.”

Tears pricked at Winifred’s eyes. She’d been so afraid of Alistair’s reaction that she’d never stopped to realize that the very person she’d hid Oliver from might be the one person who could help him most. She’d been selfish and a fool.

“Other people don’t understand us, Oliver. We can’t blame them for it, their minds are simply not as clever as ours.”

She smiled through her tears. She wished she could be in the room, see both of their faces. The two people she loved most in the world, together.

“And then I found someone who does understand me, but I ruined things because I was angry and hurt.”

There was a tight cough, and then, “What…what if?” Oliver asked. His little voice stumbled over the syllables, but it was the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard.

Tears streamed down Winifred’s face and she fought the urge to run into the room. She clasped her hand over her mouth. Her boy had spoken. His words weren’t perfect, but his sweet voice poured over her, a healing balm.

“What if you don’t find someone who understands you?” Alistair asked.

There was a pause. Oliver must have nodded.

“That’s it though, boy, you already have someone. And she loves you and understands you in a way that no one ever will. You are so fortunate because you get to spend every day with her.”

Oliver coughed again, but he said nothing more.

“But I ruined things with her. I never told her how much she meant to me.”

She stepped into the room. “You could tell me now.”

“Winifred?” Alistair said, coming to his feet.

Oliver ran to her and she knelt and gathered her son into her arms. “I love you, my sweet.”

“Love,” he said with a nod.

Alistair came over to them, wrapped one arm around her waist, and put the other on Oliver’s cheek. “Winifred, I have been an idiot.”

“No, you didn’t know. There was no way for you to know.”

“That’s not what I mean. I should never have let you go six years ago. I knew you were different, knew that you stirred something deep inside me, but I did nothing. I love you.”

“Truly?” she asked.

He nodded

“Certainly you must know I love you.”

“I do.” He kissed her lips briefly. “How do you feel about being married to a man with a mysterious reputation?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”