One Night Scandal
He tightened his jaw as he looked away from her. “Perhaps my mother loved me. I do not remember. But none of my stepmothers did. They were pleased when I left for Eton and thrilled when I returned to Selby’s home instead of my father’s home.”
“What about mistresses? Emma’s mother?”
“They were mistresses, nothing more. They enjoyed my company but loved my money more. Every woman has been interested in me for the bragging rights of sleeping with a future duke, or the possibility of becoming the future duchess. Nothing more.”
Sophie blinked to keep from crying. She wanted him to know love. Real love. Not some woman who would say the words just to become his wife and the future duchess.
“Were you ever in love with anyone other than Jennette?” she asked, ignoring his question.
He folded his arms over his chest defiantly. “I thought I was but learned quickly that it was nothing more than infatuation.”
“Who was she?”
“Emma’s mother,” he said softly.
“Ahh,” she mumbled. She thought back to the two times she’d tried to read him. Not once did she get any feelings of love for this woman. “When did you realize that you didn’t love her?”
“When she took my father’s money and tried to leave London with Emma.”
“But I thought . . .”
Nicholas looked away as his face grew dark. “You thought I paid Maggie to leave Emma with me.”
“It was the common rumor.” Heat crossed her cheeks. After knowing him even this short time, she should have realized he was not the type of man to do such a thing.
“I was furious at her for taking my father’s money. But I wasn’t going to let her take my daughter away. I caught up with Maggie before she left. She told me that was for the best because she’d had no intention of keeping Emma.”
Sophie’s mouth dropped. “What was she going to do?”
“Drop Emma off at the first church she came upon.”
Sophie slapped her hand over her mouth to hide her revulsion. While her own mother would have been pleased if her father had taken her in, at least her mother had kept her when he refused. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s been ten years. I have no feelings at all for Maggie. Except possibly pity. She lost the chance to discover what an amazing daughter we had together.” Nicholas looked back at her and frowned. “Why do you look as if you are about to cry?”
She shook her head, blinking her eyes quickly. “I don’t know. Perhaps my situation is not that different from Emma’s. Although, had my father taken me in, I would have been accepted far more than I am.”
“Why doesn’t your father want his name associated with you?” Nicholas reached over and clasped her hand in his. “Was he married at the time?”
She nodded. “He was married but also put on a front of being morally righteous.”
“I’m sorry. Did your mother raise you, then?”
“When she had the time. Mostly my father paid for nurses and governesses. My mother would live with me when her current protector tired of her.”
“Where is she now?”
“In Venice with some count.” She glanced away from him, as memories of Venice ran through her mind. Closing her eyes, she imagined him as she had seen him there, wearing nothing but a towel over his hips. “I thought you were Italian,” she whispered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“When we first met in Venice.”
He laughed. “I thought you were Italian.”
She looked back at him and giggled. “I was actually a little angry when I read Jennette’s letter and realized you spoke English.”
Damn. Seeing the far-off look in his eyes made her understand that she had done it again—mentioned Jennette’s name.