Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

There was dead silence.

Richard jerked away and began pacing. “This is all damnable,” he said over his shoulder, and continued his pacing. He turned back to Julian. “All have heard that Harlan Whittaker, your own man of business, betrayed you. Why did he take Roxanne?”

Julian shook his head. “He fancied himself in love with her and planned to steal her away, to wed her, which, naturally, she wouldn’t have allowed. That leaves you and your feeble attempts, Richard. What should I do with you?”

Richard stood mute, his hands clenched at his sides. Julian saw the misery and pain in his eyes. For a moment, he also saw the boy he’d known so many years before, full of laughter, ready for any adventure, no deceit in him at all. But Richard was no longer a boy, and Lily was dead three long years. Julian didn’t think he could bear it. He waved a hand toward the settee. “Both of you, sit down.”

Leah, who’d stood ramrod straight and stiff, her eyes down, sat, smoothing her skirts around her. Richard, however, remained standing. Alone.

Corinne said, “I shan’t ask either of you to enjoy a cup of tea. Now, Richard, answer my son.”

But Richard remained silent.

“What does your father say about this, Richard?” Roxanne asked him.

“He is very upset about these—attacks. He is spending most of his time in the library, alone.”

As you are alone, Julian thought.

Sophie moved close to Julian now, placed her hand on his shoulder, and her fingers began to lightly massage him.

His side was aching fiercely, the stitches pulling whenever he moved, but he knew he had to finish this. He said, “I remember when Lily died your father’s grief was deep and hard. However, he told me he didn’t believe that I’d shot her, and he held me close, sharing his grief with me.

“When he asked me to come to Hardcross Manor, I believed he wanted to heal the rift between us.”

Richard said, “I was surprised and angry when he told me you were coming, that you were bringing all of them with you. As protection? I remember he smiled and said something about your finally finding yourself another wife—her.” He pointed to Roxanne. “I had written to him about her, you see, told him how your feelings were engaged—with her.

“I’ll admit it, when I realized the opportunity presented to me, I knew I could finally make you suffer as my family has suffered, only Roxanne got away from Manners. Bloody hell, she nearly killed him.” He smacked his fist into his palm. “I wish she’d shot him. I didn’t know what he intended, I didn’t . . .” He shrugged.

Julian said, “When we arrived at the manor, your father called me into his library and spoke to me about my own father, what a fine man he was. I was moved, Richard, since I’d always thought of my father as a foolish, doddering old man, not a man worthy to be loved and respected and admired. I was so very grateful to your father for making my own father come alive for me, showing me the man I had never known. I sensed great caring of your father for mine, and thus for me. I sat down to dinner with you with hope in my heart, but that was my mistake.”

Richard said, “Do you know what he said to me, his only son? He said he’d asked you to Hardcross Manor for me. He said it was time for me to get on with my life, he said I was growing too alone, that I had become obsessed.”

Leah spoke, the first time since coming into the room, her voice flat. “Why did you never marry, Richard? You are thirty-two, are you not?”

Richard said nothing, didn’t look at her.

She said quietly, “Your father is right. You never even let yourself get close to another lady because of your obsession with your dead sister—with Lily. And me? Roxanne was right, you searched me out in Yorkshire, and I fell right into your net. You must have believed yourself very smart indeed when I came flying after you to London, moved in with my sister and niece, and told you everything that was said in that household, everything you wanted and needed to know.

“Vicky told me how you’d adored Lily, how you still did, and how if I wore her gown, arranged my hair like hers, even wore the bloody locket, you would admire me more. She knew your supposed affection for me was all an act on your part, didn’t she?” When he only shook his head, Leah laughed, a harsh, grating sound that held no amusement at all. “All the drama in this room, the mysteries that should have been uncovered years ago, and a score of crushing memories that eat into your hearts, and so much blame. I fancy all this blame can be spread around.

“But there is only one fool in this room.” She laughed again, pointed to herself. “Look at me, Richard! Am I the image of your long-dead sister?”

He gave her a long look. “I never liked that gown on Lily.”

Leah stared at him. “So you admit it?”

He said nothing.

“Yes, if I were you I’d keep quiet as well. Here’s some truth for you—all you did was use me, Richard. Why, then, do you want to marry me? I could give you no more information. Why, Richard? Or was your proposal all part of your elaborate ruse, to ensure I was fully secured and tied to you, that I would do whatever it was you wished me to do?”

71

The silence stretched endlessly. Leah laughed, a wrenching laugh that made Roxanne want to leap up and strangle Richard Langworth, but she knew what happened was her sister’s decision. Leah said, “Well, I see you won’t wish to answer me. You’re not entirely stupid, are you? I hate this gown, too, and my hair?” She laughed

again. “My hair looks absurd.”

Roxanne said, “Richard, would Lily have applauded you for your actions? Or would she be horrified at what you’ve tried to do, at how you’ve stopped living your life and wallowed in a grief so corrosive it poisons the very air you breathe? Would she say your actions no longer have anything to do with your grief for her? That you know nothing else, and thus you are trapped in your hatred and it has become you?”