Midnight's Wild Passion

ia he loved her. She wouldn’t care now, but once, once she might have appreciated knowing they shared more than tawdry seduction.

Except there had never been anything tawdry between him and Antonia. Apart from how he’d betrayed her to stay true to his sister.

Life was hellishly complicated. By rights, he should be relieved to relinquish it.

He staggered and felt rather than heard Thorpe leap toward him. “No,” he said again.

The agony approached a point where he had difficulty staying upright. He struggled for one last moment of clarity.

Before giving up the ghost, he needed to do something. He stared at Benton. The man’s face was set with grim knowledge.

Ranelaw raised his gun, paused to beat back a wave of dizziness.

And fired into the air.

The shot echoed eerily. Blackness surged up to steal the light.

Antonia waited in the hall for Henry to come down from his room so they could leave for Northumberland. Yesterday she and her brother had talked until exhaustion after his hard ride overcame him. She was still nervous about returning to Blaydon Park, but Henry assured her everything would be all right. During the long journey north, they’d come up with some believable story to explain her reappearance.

This morning Cassie was engaged to go shopping with the Merriweathers. Only Antonia and Cassie were aware of the strategy behind the decision to continue with her social activities. If rumors arose about her disappearance from the fête champêtre, her public insouciance would contradict gossip.

At breakfast Cassie had been subdued and a little snappish. Eloise’s tragic history still gnawed at her so she’d been unusually sullen with her father, not that he seemed to notice. Antonia’s departure left Cassie bereft and unsettled, however glad she was that the rift with Henry was healed. Northumberland was at the other end of the country and it was clear Antonia would never again play the dour and watchful chaperone.

Although Antonia was touched by Cassie’s unhappiness at her departure, it had been a relief to consign the girl to her friends. Recent days left Antonia jittery and overwhelmed. She had little patience to spare for a fractious Cassie.

She knew she’d miss her cousin like the very devil, but today she felt drained and listless. She just wanted to flee London without delay. Freedom hovered like a heavenly vision.

Henry descended the stairs at a canter. It was oddly comforting how immediately they’d returned to their easy affection. Hard to believe ten years had passed since they were together. She felt like she’d left him only yesterday.

Demarest followed Henry more slowly. She knew he was happy her brother was restored to her. But she also knew that, for a man whose comfort was his priority, the delay in her answer to his proposal irked. She couldn’t keep him waiting long. But she needed to see her childhood home, become Lady Antonia Hilliard again before she decided where her path would take her.

Henry had asked her to become chatelaine of Blaydon Park. That offer would make her father twitch in his grave, she was sure.

Life as Henry’s hostess wouldn’t be so different from life in Somerset, except she’d receive all honor due Lady Antonia Hilliard. She’d reclaim her independence, and she’d never again have to deal with lying rakes who broke her heart without a second thought.

Demarest had wanted Henry to stay in London, recover from his journey, reacquaint himself with his sister in a familiar setting. But her brother had always hated Town, and Antonia was eager to return to Blaydon Park. She supposed it was a sign of grudging approval that Demarest lent them his traveling chaise. And fresh clothes for Henry. Her brother had been in such a lather to find her, he hadn’t packed any necessities.

She couldn’t help wondering about the condition of the estate. The Henry she’d known tended to lose himself in his studies, remaining blithely unaware of practicalities. In a way, this was reassuring. One of the satisfactions of her restricted existence in Somerset was that Mr. Demarest was such a careless landlord, he left all decisions in his absence up to her. But of course she now realized he was careless about everything, including people.

Henry had never been careless, just preoccupied. Which offered her an opportunity to exert a positive influence on Blaydon Park.

She badly needed to feel necessary to someone somewhere.

Whatever choices she made, she’d never marry for love. Passion wounded too deeply. A comfortable, settled life with an older man who made no demands still appealed. The lure of becoming Cassie’s stepmother was a strong inducement for accepting Demarest.

Or maybe now she was a woman of means, she wouldn’t marry at all.

She couldn’t imagine she’d ever return to London. She would remain safely in the country. In the capital, she ran the risk of Johnny causing trouble or someone recognizing her as Cassie Demarest’s chaperone.

For so long, she’d been at fate’s mercy. Now new opportunities beckoned, offering more than she’d ever imagined. It seemed too good to be true.

She knew it was too good to be true.

No matter. She had to move beyond the pain and illusory joy of the last weeks. Her future mightn’t be exciting or romantical, to use Demarest’s term. But it was at least secure.

“Are you ready?” Henry asked.

“Yes.” She choked back a sob. Which was ridiculous. She refused to cry over losing Ranelaw. He hadn’t been hers to lose.