His Christmas Countess

‘Of course not. I had deceived you, allowed you to marry me, save Anna and myself, embroiled you in this. How could I turn around and dump the whole mess at your feet?’

‘It was why you were so reluctant to come to London, I suppose. Kate—’ He broke off. His lower lip caught between his teeth, then, as though he was making himself ask, he said, ‘Did you meet Baybrook in Green Park by appointment?’

‘No! When you told me how you felt about me, saw for myself that you were happy in our marriage, saw how much you trusted me, I knew I had to stop pretending everything was all right. I went looking for Jonathan to find out exactly what Henry had been demanding, promised him I would put it right somehow. I saw him in the park that day and followed him.’

‘Anna has his eyes, that unusual clear green with gold flecks.’

‘She got that from him?’ Kate shook her head, bemused by the detail. ‘I can’t remember what colour his eyes are. Anyway, I knew I had to go to Henry, make him stop, get the money and pay it back.’

‘All two thousand five hundred and twenty pounds,’ Grant said.

‘How did you know it was that much?’

‘I arrived outside the window just as you were discussing it, demanding that he give it to you.’

Kate thought back on what she had said, when she had said it, when Grant had walked in the door. So that was how he knew so much. ‘You must think I am as bad as he was, that I wanted the money for myself?’

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘I had a bad moment.’ Grant held up his hand and she saw the raw graze across his knuckles. ‘I hit the wall, which was foolish. But you are my wife, Kate. I owe you my loyalty. I owe you my trust.’

He meant it, she could tell. For a moment the happiness bubbled up, almost painful in its intensity. Then she realised that he was making himself trust by an effort of will, against the evidence. The happiness wavered and went out like a candle flame in the wind.

He has to trust me because he is loyal to me. Not because he knows I wouldn’t do such a thing, not because he loves me. Grant is honourable and Madeleine rejected him and Charlie. Now he has the courage to risk his heart and his happiness all over again on a woman who has been deceiving him since the moment we met. What if I let him down, slip up, fail to have the nerve to always be truthful?

Grant needed to believe in her, she realised. He needed that faith that she would be true to him.

I am on a shaky pedestal where I have no right to be.

‘Thank you.’ She could feel the pedestal rock beneath her feet as she groped for balance, the right words. ‘I was optimistic in thinking Henry would actually give me the money, but I had to try. I would have given it all back to Jonathan somehow.’

‘Will you let me deal with this if I promise not to call Baybrook out? I will repay him, assure him of our silence, of the end of Henry’s extortion, provided he forgets he ever met you.’ When she opened her mouth to protest he smiled thinly. ‘And Henry can repay me.’

‘It may take some time.’ It seemed she could breathe again. Grant believed her.

‘I will put some of my own people in. That will sort him out. He may come to think longingly of a nice sea voyage to India after all, by the time I have finished with him.’

‘I am glad you are on my side and not against me,’ Kate ventured, daring a feeble joke. Grant’s smile was still tight. ‘I should not speak lightly. And I should not expect you to deal with Baybrook. It was my fault. I will—’

‘You will do no such thing.’ With the suddenness of a pistol firing Grant lost his temper. He was on his feet, his fist thudding into the wall, his voice a barely contained shout. Kate stared horrified at the smear of blood from his unhealed knuckles, the mark of violence across the neatly papered wall. Grant never lost his temper, never shouted. He swung round, towering over her. ‘I deal with threats to my family, my wife, my daughter. Is that clear?’

Kate nodded, unable to drag her gaze from his face. ‘I am so sorry.’

He swore, crudely, harshly. ‘And don’t apologise!’ It was a shout now. Grant slammed away across the room, turned and glared at her from ten feet away, six feet of infuriated male pride and muscle. ‘Your brother, who should protect you with his life, uses you, an innocent, to bait a honey trap, makes you party to a criminal act, puts you in fear for your child. You could have died in that hovel. You probably would have done if I had not come past by the merest chance. You have the guts to fight for your daughter, take risks for her. You have given my son the mother he deserves, made my house a home, driven away my demons.’