How to Handle a Scandal (26 page)

“I must have been asleep.” She cleared her throat. “But we need to talk.” Her heart twisted, and she wished she wasn’t going to have to deny herself what she so desperately wanted, but she’d accepted now that she’d never have the future she wanted with him.

“Certainly,” he said, stopping. He reached around her waist and pulled her close, brushing his cheek against hers before she could force herself to resist. His skin was prickly with unshaved whiskers that promised shivers she wanted so badly. “Right after we do a few other things. Come up to my room.”

“I can’t.”

He chuckled, nuzzling her neck. “Don’t be such a conscientious hostess. You can sneak up to my room for a few minutes.”

“It’s not that. I’ve changed my mind.”

“About?”

“Trying for a baby.”

He said nothing at first, just lifted his head and looked down at her. “You’ve changed your mind about wanting a baby?”

She swallowed a lump and nodded.

“How can you say you don’t want a baby anymore?” he said in a low voice. “You said it was what you most wanted.”

“I do want a baby, but not this way,” she said, wishing her voice wasn’t succumbing to huskiness.

“
What
way then? There is, as far as I know, only one way to create a baby.”

Her hands pulled into fists at her side. “With me being the only one who really wants the baby. Why are you making this so hard? You don’t want a baby. It was
my
idea,
my
choice for the future awaiting me. For you it was just fun to oblige me.”

His black eyebrows drew into slashes over green eyes that glittered with hard lights. “It was fun for you, too. Don’t try to act as though you didn’t like it.”

“Of course I liked it!” she said angrily. “But I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into. And now I’ve gotten my courses, and that means a clean slate. I don’t want to try anymore. That’s it. End of conversation.”

She started to walk again, but she hadn’t taken a step before he grabbed her arm and tugged her back to face him.

“You can’t just decide that. There are two of us in this marriage, in case you’ve forgotten. And I haven’t agreed to anything you’ve said.”

“Are you saying you mean to exercise your marital rights and take your pleasure with me whether I wish it or not?” she demanded incredulously, the idea sickening her.

“Of course not!” he growled. He pushed a hand roughly through his hair. “But maybe I’ve changed my mind about the baby. Maybe I think it’s a good idea after all.”

She just stared at him. “You want a baby now?
Maybe?
What exactly does that mean?” Her heart was skipping wildly in her chest, pulled in a thousand directions, but she forced herself to stay calm.

“Our marriage started in a crazy way. We hardly even knew each other. We didn’t know the people we’d each grown into. But now that we’ve spent some time together, it’s obvious that we like each other. There always was a genuine connection between us, and it hasn’t gone away. It was just buried under time and distance and hard feelings.”

His words fell on her like a hail of small pebbles, well meant but painful. He
liked
her; he liked her friendship and spending time with her and making love with her. But he didn’t love her.

“And it will be buried again when you go back to India,” she said.

Storm clouds gathered at his brow. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You don’t
want
to come to Hyderabad, do you?”

It was the first time he’d even suggested he might entertain the idea of them being in India together, but she could see by his face that the idea still repelled him. “You’re right. I don’t want to go to India—at least, not the way it would be if I went. But you could decide not to go back,” she said, forcing herself to speak the words though she felt certain he would refuse. “Stay here with me, if you want to be together.”

She could see by the way his face fell that she shouldn’t have said it. His eyes flicked away from her.

“Eliza,” he began, but she knew what was coming, and she couldn’t bear to hear words of pity.

“Don’t,” she said firmly. “We’ve discussed this and clearly there’s nothing more to say. We must simply consider ourselves friends who are married. There are far worse things to be.”

“Eliza, you can’t—” he began, but he didn’t have a chance to finish, because at that moment they became aware of the sound of hoofbeats and both turned toward the manor at the same time.

“What the devil?” Tommy said.

A cart had just come around the side of the stables and was gathering speed. The driver was Rex, and running behind him laughing was Susanna.

Rex was laughing, too—until he caught sight of Eliza and Tommy in his path. Jerking on the reins, he tried to divert the pony, but his inexpert handling sent the animal toward a large rock by the split-rail fence. One of the cart wheels caught on the rock, and the cart pitched wildly and came to an abrupt stop against the fence, smashing part of it.

Tommy was already running toward the scene, Eliza behind him, as the pony ran off, trailing the broken shafts. Susanna, stopped in her tracks at some distance from them, looked horrified.

Rex was climbing out of the remains of the cart when Tommy and Eliza reached him. “Are you hurt?” Tommy demanded roughly. Rex lifted his chin and shook his head carelessly.

“It was nothing.”

“You’re lucky this fence circles around ahead, or you’d be taking off after that pony right now,” Tommy growled.

Rex, ever unwise, said, “It was just a bit of fun.”

“Which is why you made sure to get up early, so you could take the cart before anyone noticed, isn’t it?”

Rex looked mulish.

“Well?”

“It was just a nasty old cart,” he muttered, “falling apart, like everything else here.”

Eliza drew in a breath, aware, even if Rex wasn’t, of Tommy’s barely restrained fury.

“You’ve behaved with a selfish disregard for others from the minute you arrived in England,” Tommy bit off, “though having known you in India, I wasn’t exactly surprised. But you’re Oliver’s boy, and I wanted to do right by you. And yet, you’re making it so hard.”

“So?” Rex said, and kicked at a stone.

Tommy’s mouth tightened. “I expect you to make amends for what you’ve done this morning. The cart and fence will need to be fixed.”

“I have a trust fund,” Rex said. “You can take the money out of that.”

“I don’t want your money,” Tommy said. “You’re going to fix what you broke.”

Rex’s eyes went to the mess of the cart, which lay at an awkward angle with the shafts missing. It was a shabby old cart, but it must have been somewhat sturdy as well, because at least the wheels were intact. “I don’t know anything about fixing things,” he sneered, as if the very idea was beneath him.

“It’s not complicated. Wood. Nails. Hammer. Measuring,” Tommy said. Eliza noticed that, for a change, he had the boy’s attention.

“Are you going to show me how, then?” Rex mocked, but Eliza read something beneath his bravado. She guessed that he was only sneering about what he didn’t think he could allow himself to have: the attention of the man who’d been his father’s friend and was now, temporarily, his guardian.

She tried to catch Tommy’s eye and somehow convey that this was important, but he wasn’t looking at her. “The carpenter will show you,” he said.

The wisp of forbidden hopefulness disappeared from the boy’s face, replaced by his usual sneer. “What, do you think you’re teaching me a lesson, Sir Tommy? Don’t bother. You’re just going to send me to my aunt the minute you hear from her. You’re not going to be around for long—just like everyone else.”

Though Rex was being terribly rude, Eliza’s heart ached for him, and she wanted to say something. But she knew it would have little effect, because she wasn’t Tommy.

“People will always be leaving you in life,” Tommy said expressionlessly. “It’s best to accept that early on, and then you won’t be disappointed.”

Rex blinked, clearly astonished by such harsh words. Eliza was astonished, too, and not a little horrified.

Without a word, Rex turned and dashed away toward the path to the sea.

“Aren’t you going to go talk to him?” she said as they watched him go.

“We just talked. I imagine he wants to heap curses on me in private.”

Eliza bit her lip. “I know I’m not a shining example of success when it comes to children, but what you just said was pretty grim.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Won’t he be better off if he accepts it, instead of going through life angry that his mother left him and then died, and then his father died as well?”

“I’m not certain that what you’re talking about is acceptance. It sounds more like resignation.” She paused for a long moment, realizing that perhaps she’d just come to understand something about Tommy. He always seemed so happy and fun, and he was so confident and strong and playful. It had never occurred to her that he was also completely pessimistic.

She cocked her head. “Almost right after your mother died, your father married Judith because they’d been having an affair, didn’t he?”

His expression instantly grew wary. “Why on earth are you asking me about that now?”

“I just never saw it before: how what happened to you was maybe not so different from what happened to me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think you’re going to distract me from what we were talking about before Rex came along.”

“You were close to both your parents, and they died when you were young. Will was doubtless a fine older brother, but he was twelve years older than you. I know Judith was a good stepmother to you, but maybe a lonely, grieving boy might decide it was better to make life into a game than to let the hurt get to him.”

He rolled his eyes. “And all this because I suggested to Rex that he not make himself unpleasant?”

“Maybe. Maybe that’s what’s familiar to you—getting people to like you, losing yourself in amusement and adventure. It can be a way of avoiding anything more serious. But I just realized what I hadn’t seen all along: that underneath that playful exterior, you’re a cynic.”

Her words clearly took him by surprise. He frowned. “No, I’m not. I just prefer to face what’s real.”

“But do you leave room for things working out well just as often as they turn out badly?”

“I hadn’t realized you found me such a gloomy trial to be around.”

“I don’t. I’m sure nobody does. You’re the swashbuckling prince of fun. But underneath that, perhaps you don’t really trust life to work out. You don’t trust people not to die, marriages not to fail, families not to fall apart as Rex’s did. As, in a way, yours did.”

He scowled, his black brows twin slashes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? You’re a man now, so it’s up to you whether any of this means anything to you. But Rex is thirteen. And I think you should go talk to him.” She shaded her eyes against the now-bright morning sun. “He’s taken the beach path, and considering the choices he’s made so far, I wouldn’t put it past him to decide to take that dangerous climb down to the beach.”

He gave her a look, but she could see he hadn’t considered that. “Very well, I’ll go after him. But you and are going to talk when I get back. We have unfinished business.”

* * *

When Tommy found Rex, he was indeed standing at the edge of the cliff above the sea, looking like he was considering a descent. He turned when he heard Tommy approaching.

“I wouldn’t recommend a trip down to the beach,” Tommy said. “It promises more danger than most of us would want this early in the morning.”

The boy just shrugged, a mulish, defiant look on his thin features. He looked as though he’d grown since he’d arrived in England, and his trousers now stopped above his skinny ankles. He ought to have had new clothes. But of course, Tommy hadn’t wanted to think about anything as long term as clothes for a boy who was only passing through his care.

He wasn’t proud to realize that he’d been thinking of Rex as little more than a parcel awaiting delivery. He’d told himself, as he always did, that the best thing for everybody was to keep things light, to keep moving, to stay streamlined and ready for action. But Eliza was right; his words to the boy had been too harsh.

Underneath that playful exterior, you’re a cynic
. She’d seen something in him that he didn’t want to examine.

He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology, Rex. I spoke too harshly to you a few minutes ago. I was angry that you’d been disrespectful, but you deserve better than a guardian who hasn’t thought enough about you and your future.”

Rex blinked, seemingly startled by Tommy’s words. Then he frowned, as though discounting them. “Why apologize for speaking the truth? People
do
always leave.”

“You’ve had a harder time than many people, Rex. There’s no getting around the sad fact that parents sometimes die. My own mother died when I was a little younger than you, and my father a few years later. But I had it easier than you; I had an older brother to look out for me.”

Something softened in the hard line of Rex’s mouth, as if hearing someone acknowledge his hardships made them a little more bearable. But then the hardness returned. “I don’t want your pity,” he said, turning away.

Tommy was surprised to find that he admired the boy, admired his spirit and his pride and even the force behind his anger. “It’s not pity,” Tommy said to Rex’s back, “it’s compassion. I’m saying I’ve known some of what you’ve experienced, and I respect your grit.” He laughed a little softly. “Even if it’s cost me a bush, a cart, and part of a fence.”

Rex turned, and Tommy had the satisfaction of noting that the boy looked truly surprised for the first time. “Aren’t you angry about the cart and the fence?”

“Well, I’m not happy about what happened. But they can be fixed. And I think, as the one who broke them, you’ll want to fix them. A man acknowledges his mistakes when he makes them, and does what he can to fix them.”

“I…” Rex’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry I took the cart out and broke it and the fence. I knew taking the cart was a rude thing to do, but I didn’t care.”