Lord Harry's Folly by Catherine Coulter (read this if .txt) 📕

moment, then shrugged. “No, I must tell you all of it. Neither of us will ever be free of this unless I tell you everything. So be it.

“I’ll never forget coming to White’s one afternoon to be told that Damien had left suddenly for the continent. I thought at the time that he, like I, had grown tired of Elizabeth’s capriciousness. Filey seemed vastly amused by what he termed Captain Rolland’s defection and taunted me to declare him the winner of the bet. Although, as I said, I was no longer much interested in the lady, I didn’t believe that he had succeeded in winning her favor. That, along with his taunting, made me tell him to go to the devil. Not long thereafter, I began to revise my opinion, for Elizabeth appeared to be in his company more than in any other’s.

“You can imagine my shock several weeks later when Elizabeth, hooded and masked, arrived at my town house near to midnight one evening. I won’t sully your ears with the particulars of that memorable night although why should I spare you? You took my damned mistress all about London. There can’t be anything you don’t know now. Very well, I’ll say it outright, after all, you’ve been a gentleman for five months. You’ve seen more of this sordid world than any other young lady. Elizabeth didn’t leave until near to dawn the following morning. I bedded her several times. I’m not going to try to justify my actions of that night. I have repeatedly cursed myself for my galling stupidity. Suffice it to say that Elizabeth, before her most innocent and artful seduction of an experienced man, ensured that I had consumed half a bottle of brandy.

“Three weeks later, I was tearfully informed by a hysterical Elizabeth that she was pregnant. Fool that I was, I accepted her word without hesitation and offered her marriage. We were married by special license three days later, then removed immediately to one of my estates near to Billingsgate.”

Hetty could contain herself no longer. “By God, you still want me to listen to this outlandish tale you’re spinning? It makes me want to puke. You have the gall to accuse me of romanticizing the entire affair, yet you’ve told me the most outrageous lies. Damn you, you must have been the one to send Damien from England. There is no one else. You’ve made this whole thing up, perhaps for my benefit so I won’t try to kill you again, or else you’re simply trying to lessen your guilt over murdering Damien.”

She expected explosive anger from him, she expected more of his banked controlled rage. But she got neither. He said very quietly, “I will tell you, Hetty, I would have offered your brother half my estates had he but returned to take Elizabeth off my hands.”

“God, that’s a bloody lie! She was pregnant with Damien’s child. They loved each other, he would gladly have wed her. He never wanted to return to the continent. He didn’t want to die.”

“You’ve looked too long into only one side of the mirror. Elizabeth wasn’t pregnant with your brother’s child. It was Filey’s seed that grew in her womb.”

“No, damn you no, that’s bloody absurd your final lie. I won’t listen to any more of this.”

“I have absolutely no reason to lie to you, Hetty,” he said, his voice weary, now nearly emotionless.

“No, Elizabeth couldn’t have the letter, I read her letter to Damien. She loved him, not that foul lecher Sir William Filey.”

“It’s entirely possible that if your brother had remained in England, it would have been he who would have led the pregnant Elizabeth to the altar. But no, Hetty, she didn’t love your brother. As best as I could tell, she loved no one but herself. Wait, please don’t interrupt me. I have no desire to speak of this private human tragedy, much less remember it, but I see that you will never believe me otherwise.”

He was silent a moment, remembering the ugly scenes, the growing hatred. For an instant, he was sorely tempted to tell Hetty to believe what she liked and to go to the devil. Yet, there was so much pain and confusion in her blue eyes Damien’s eyes, Jack’s eyes and only he held the key to the maze of distorted truths.

“Elizabeth’s father, Colonel Nathan Springville, was a stern taskmaster, a ruthless martinet whose word was undisputed law in his family. I tell you this to help you understand why perhaps she acted as she did. She hated her father and wished only for escape, but her escape had to be through lawful marriage, else he would have consigned her to perdition. I can’t prove it, else I would have killed Filey with my bare hands, but it is my belief that he seduced her, then instead of offering her marriage, asked her to be his mistress. Damien was gone. She had no one to turn to save myself. Filey doubtless thought it fine sport. Perhaps you are right; perhaps she and Damien were lovers and she would have preferred marriage to him rather than to me. Perhaps she felt some affection for your brother and her letter was a plea for his forgiveness. I can only speculate, as can you.”

“Yes, your grace, I can also speculate. You paint the picture of a vain, unscrupulous woman, a woman who cared for no one save herself. But there is the letter, your grace, a letter that damns you. But more, there is Pottson. He told me of Damien’s unhappiness, not, of course, that Damien ever confided the cause to his batman, but Damien was affected, your grace, and deeply saddened.”

The fire was dying in the grate and the night shadows deepened between them. The marquess turned away, not answering her, and with mechanical movements lighted several candles and placed them near to the bed. He turned then, still silent, and added new logs to the fire. He kicked up