The Kiss (37 page)

Georgiana rose and gathered Fairleigh in her arms. "Come, I have a long list of things to do and I need your help," she whispered in Fairleigh's soft curls. An idea popped into her head. "And I have a present for you."

Fairleigh lifted her tear-streaked face from Georgiana's soggy shoulder. "A present? What kind of present?"

"So much for being patient."

"It's not that. It's just that Grace has given me so many presents—pretty gowns, and pearl earrings, and embroidered cushions, and a pearl bracelet. Well, your present isn't pearls, is it?"

"Hmmm. No, there are no pearls."

"Oh, it's a horse, isn't it?" Her blue eyes were large and round.

Georgiana grasped her hand and hid a smile. "No, it's not a horse. But I shan't tell you now and ruin it." She just had to leave the house before Quinn appeared. Perhaps she could accomplish everything she needed to do without seeing him again. Perhaps this wouldn't be as unbearable as she had thought. "Come, I have something I've always wanted to show you. Then we have to get to work if we are ever to get everything done today."

They made their way to Loe Pool, and Georgiana dragged a small boat to the edge of the lake. After several false starts, Fairleigh learned all the basics and they slowly rowed to the island.

"Oh, I've always wanted to come here, but Father said it was too far for me to swim and he doesn't like rowboats."

Georgiana could guess why, and changed the subject. "Have you seen Oscar lately?" She had missed the otter.

"No. Father and I swim when it's warm enough, but we haven't seen him since you left." The little girl rested her oar on the edge of the boat. "Oh, I do wish you still lived here, Georgiana. It's so inconvenient. And it's not nearly as much fun without you here. Grace doesn't like to go fishing as often as you do."

The bottom of the boat hit the sandy beach of the tiny island and Georgiana carefully lifted her stiff limbs over the rim of the small vessel. "Hurry now," she urged. "The gift is inside."

Her eyes sparkling with excitement, Fairleigh was completely taken with the glass house. "Oh, this is the most beautiful place on Penrose. I shall ask Father if I can have this as my room next summer instead of those stuffy chambers next to his. This place is magical. I'm certain fairies must live here. Lake fairies." Fairleigh twirled, and light glinted from the myriad windows and illuminated the white blondeness of her hair. Georgiana had never seen the little girl so happy. She quickly retrieved the gift she had rashly decided to give her.

"Fairleigh, this is for you." She forced herself to place in Fairleigh's slender hands the poignant remnant from her past. The golden edges of the Lover's Eye brooch gleamed in the sunlight.

"Oh, Georgiana. Why, this is your beautiful brooch. The one you painted." The little girl looked at it in awe. "I'm not sure I'll be allowed to accept it. It's too ..." She didn't appear able to find the right words.

"You are growing up," Georgiana said softly. "I am so proud of you, dearest. But I want you to have this. Perhaps it will help you miss your father less while he is traveling. But this is a secret between us. And you are only to wear it when he is away. The rest of the time you must hide it."

The little girl stared at the brooch and then at Georgiana. "It's Papa's eye, isn't it?" She stroked the tiny brooch reverently.

"Yes."

"But everyone thinks it is someone else's eye."

"Yes," Georgiana replied.

"Why did you paint it?"

"Because your Papa and I were very good friends and I missed him when he went away. But now I am all grown up and I want you to have it in case you miss him when you are apart. And the brooch setting is from my family, so you'll also have something to remember me."

Fairleigh's innocent, wide blue eyes gazed at her for a long moment. And Georgiana could have sworn that a glimmer of some ancient female calculating expression crossed her face before the little girl squelched it.

"Thank you, Georgiana. You are the very best. Now then, what is on your list of things to do today? We should get started, like you said. My list includes riding," Fairleigh said, drawing a rumpled paper from her pocket. "I will be allowed to bring Lady with me tomorrow, right? She would get lonely if I left her here."

Georgiana stroked Fairleigh's hair. "Of course, she can come. Oh, oh, look." She pointed at a whiskered snout breaking the rippling surface of the water. "Oscar is just there. Let's find him a treat."

"Does he like worms, Georgiana?"

Georgiana laughed. "I don't think so. But he
loves
that which eats worms. "

Fairleigh rushed out of the glass house to get a better look at the otter, her list dropped and forgotten. Georgiana knelt down to examine it, her heart heavy as she read the last notation: figure out a way for
everyone
to live at Penrose forever, especially Papa ... and Georgiana.

Grace's drawn face filled Quinn with ill ease. "My dear, I know how much you long to leave, but I really don't think you'll be well enough to go tomorrow. There's no rush, you know. I shall write a note to the duchess explaining our delay."

"No," Grace replied, sitting up straighter on the long settee in her chamber. "I'm feeling much, much better. Ata's note mentioned the babies are recovering too." She took a sip of tea and Quinn noticed a slight quiver of the teacup as she brought it to her lips.

Quinn directed Mrs. Killen, who was hovering at the doorway, to bring a fresh pot of tea.

"And Georgiana has come all this way to collect Fairleigh. She will not feel right taking her tomorrow if we are still here. And I'm certain she has much to do at Trehallow."

Quinn stiffened at the mention of Georgiana's name.

"Are you certain Fairleigh should not come with us?" Grace asked gently. "You'll miss her so much—as will I."

"We won't be gone long. I'd thought you might enjoy the entertainments of a house party devoid of children." Quinn stood up and paced. God, how he wanted to get away from here. He needed time and space away from Penrose to resume his life. To form a new life with Grace. It wouldn't take long, he was sure of it. A few weeks away from here would do the trick. Then he would collect Fairleigh and the three of them could spend the season in London. After Parliament finished its sessions in late spring they'd tour the other Ellesmere estates.

There was a knock and Fairleigh's face appeared around the door.

Grace beckoned to the child. "Oh Fairleigh, do come and help me eat all these biscuits. Your father has been no help at all."

Fairleigh hopped onto the pale green settee, settling herself between the two of them. She bit into a chocolate biscuit, her face filled with delight. "Thank you, Grace."

Oh God, he was going to miss her too much. He kissed the top of her head. "Here, let me get that bit of chocolate on your cheek." He picked up a napkin and urged her to sit on his lap. "Ouch. What is that?"

Her eyes became very large as she jumped up and gripped the side of her gown. "Nothing."

"Fairleigh, what are you hiding in your pocket?"

She shook her head and looked at the carpet. "It's really nothing."

He put his hand, palm up, in front of her. "Give it to me right now. It's dangerous to carry fish hooks in your pocket."

She stood very still and he was forced to search her pocket himself. He withdrew a small piece of jewelry and leaned in to examine it more closely. He blinked. "Where did you get this brooch?"

"It was to be a secret. Georgiana gave it to me." Her large, innocent eyes filled with ill ease. "She said it was to remember
my Papa."

Grace glanced at it and quickly looked away without a word.

"You may not keep it." He felt the marrow curdling in his bones.

Fairleigh burst into tears and he quickly hugged her fiercely to his breast.

"Oh, Papa, I wouldn't have accepted it if I'd known it would make you so mad."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm not angry with you. You're the dearest thing to me in the world. You are my daughter and I won't ever let anything or
anyone
come between us."

"But Papa, you don't understand. It's—"

"No, Fairleigh, no explanations. Now, have you seen to packing your dollies?" It took every effort to appear collected when every muscle screamed to destroy the damned brooch in as violent a fashion as possible. It represented every evil in his past.

Fairleigh murmured that she hadn't gathered her dolls and so he used the opportunity to escape both Grace and Fairleigh. At the doorway he turned to find Grace rearranging the skirt of her gown. He could only see the countess's lovely pale profile, but he had the distinct impression that a tear was balanced on her lower lashes.

Something stronger than compassion drove him from Grace and Fairleigh. Fear and anger twisted into a thin wire of pain that snaked through his body. He didn't stop to think. Didn't stop to plan. He acted on instinct alone and flew out of the room.

He would find Georgiana. And when he did he would end this thing that was between them. He had given her everything—had even given her his trust, just as he had been foolish enough to give his trust to Anthony and again to Cynthia. Fire raged in his palm. He released his grip on the brooch and saw a smear of blood in the center of his hand where the pin had pricked his skin.

He cursed both Anthony and Georgiana to hell and back as he stalked down the path to Little Roses, his fury growing with every step.

He found her among several stacks of books, a roll of twine in hand.

"Quinn!"

He stared at her through a shaft of light cutting across her father's study. And in that instant a thousand images sped through his mind: Anthony and Georgiana climbing trees, swimming, fishing, running, racing, eating cakes, and always falling all over each other with laughter in their eyes. The identical look in Fairleigh's eyes. His heart contracted in pain.

"Why did you do it?" His voice cracked with the strain.

"What are you talking—"

"Why would you give Fairleigh a likeness of your
husband?"
He couldn't even say Anthony's name, his hatred was so deeply embedded.

She lowered her eyes to a book she held and said not a word.

"Oh no. You will explain yourself. There'll be none of the shrinking violet here. How could you do it? How could you give my daughter a painting of the man who ruined my chance of happiness at every turn? Were you going to reveal the truth of her parentage, to boot?"

She would not look up.

"You refuse to answer. Even you cannot defend your audacious action. But isn't that the way you have always lived your life, Georgiana? You and Anthony always managed to avoid unpleasantness by not answering to anyone."

He ran his hand through his hair and realized it was shaking. "When I confided to you the secret that has plagued me for a decade, I was fool enough to think you wouldn't reveal what I told you to anyone."

She raised her eyes to his. A blaze of pain streaked through them. "A decade? You've been plagued with a secret for a mere decade?" She whispered, her voice quavering with emotion.

He ignored her. "Can't you see that by revealing I'm not her true father, it would only cause Fairleigh confusion and pain? I want her to live in a cocoon of security and love her entire life—unlike my own."

And she ignored him. "Let me assure you a decade is a trifle. Now, two decades is a bit more impressive. But I'm guessing that even that will seem like a drop in time when I'm staring at sixty years in my dish."

She wasn't making any sense at all, and her voice had grown in strength and was now bordering on hysteria. And suddenly his infamous control snapped.

A fire crackled in the grate. In his mind's eye he saw the brooch in the fire, the metal sizzling and dripping while Anthony's miniature painted eye burned into ash and only the tiny glittering jewels remained on the hearth.

With two long strides he was before the fire his arm drawn back.

"No!" She sobbed. "No. Don't you dare!" She was beside him, her fingers working his tightly clenched fist. "Oh God, Quinn. Please don't."

He immediately opened his fist and she took possession of it and gripped the ugly thing to her breast.

He was now numb to every emotion. Even anger had melted away in the face of her devotion to the man who had tormented him. "Fairleigh will be leaving with me tomorrow. You may take your leave of us now as I'm certain you've no wish to remain here."

Her eyes were closed tightly. "It's of you," she said barely above a whisper.

A log in the grate broke in two and a spray of sparks swirled.

Her lids parted to reveal dark, almost black eyes. Her breath rattled. "I painted it fifteen years ago—while I lay in bed the week after you left. It's
your
eye, not
his."
She paused and then rushed on. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I should burn it, since both you and Anthony hated it."

Now it was he who could not make his mouth open to save his life.

"I gave it to Fairleigh so she could have a part of you near while you went away with Grace. I'm certain she will be very excited about having Grace as a mother. I'm not sure she has told you or Grace this, but I did want to make sure you knew. And she can't wait to go to London and see the sites—especially the Tower. Grace and Fairleigh are so beautiful together, with their blonde hair and matching pale pink gowns and pearls. Soon no one will even remember that Grace is not her real mother." She spoke swiftly and without pause, like the ever-moving tide. "But I only beg of you not to forget to always propose adventures for her: riding and fishing and an amusement every day. She will not be happy only doing lessons and embroidery. But what am I saying? You know that now very well. You've changed back to the man I used to know and are the perfect father for a high-spirited girl such as Fairleigh. She is a very, very lucky child to have a father such as you and a mother such as Grace."

He held out his hand and she placed the brooch in it. A tiny eye stared back at him, slanted, arresting. He drew it closer. The barest hint of green edged the outer edge of the amber iris.