Betrayal Read online

  “Is it?” She looked out of the window again.

  He wanted to take her shoulders and shake her. “Of course, it is. I’m not that vindictive.”

  “But who knows what that famous Crawley temper is capable of.”

  “The what?” Ash tried to temper his voice, he really did. He reminded himself that she had just lived through what must surely have been a rather hellish day and half. “I haven’t got the foggiest what you are talking about.”

  “Haven’t you?” She threw him a glance that seemed to say she considered him a complete moron. “When you seem to admonish Gareth all the time about it.”

  “St. Asaph? What has he got to do with this situation?”

  But she just shook her head.

  It proved to be too much for his self-control. His annoyance burst forth. “Dear heavens, Georgina, why do you have to be that way? Why can’t you just be—I don’t know—grateful, like any other normal person would be?” He remembered the few moments he had held her in his arms once more.

  If only...

  Suddenly bone weary, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you apologise for once?” He let his hand fall to his side to look at her. If only... “Only once,” he said and hated the pleading tone of his voice. “And perhaps we could... I could...”

  With a sinking heart he watched her lips tighten. “Apologise for what? For abducting your son? Yes, I am sorry about that.” Her head whipped around and she pinned him with a glittering stare. “But surprisingly, I found the thought of never seeing both of my children again intolerable.”

  Speechless, he stared at her. That was her apology for a marriage ruined, for—“Damn you,” he whispered hoarsely. And louder: “Damn you. I worshipped the ground you walked on, and well you know it. Apologise for tupping my bloody cousin, that’s what I mean!” The sudden stillness rang in his ears and made him aware that he had been shouting.

  Breathing hard, he stared at her. Why couldn’t she—

  She arched her brows. “How unfortunate. For that is something I will never apologise for.”

  Ash felt the colour leech from his face. If she had stabbed him with a dagger, he could not have been more shocked.

  She averted her face and once more looked out of the window. “Perhaps you now want to tell your coachman to turn the carriage back?”

  Of course, he did not.

  They continued the rest of the way in bitter, brooding silence.

  When they finally reached Ashburnham Hall, he put her in the care of Mrs. Cornwell, but was careful not to touch or even look at her in any way. He simply could not bear it.

  Chapter 14

  She had been given a guestroom where the housekeeper fussed over her. Mrs. Cornwell saw to it that she had something to eat while the maids prepared a bath for her—a bit of cold chicken and bread, but also Cornish pasties. Georgina wondered whether Mrs. Cornwell had remembered how much she had enjoyed those all those years ago.

  It was bliss to finally sit in the softly scented water and wash away the grime and the smell of the prison. Bliss to let the warmth soothe her senses. She had sent the maids away—together with the dress she had been wearing. It was a shame, really; she could not afford a new dress, but neither could she bear the thought of wearing that one ever again.

  Wistful, she reached for the soap lying on a small stool beside the tub. Pale, expensive soap, and as she dunked it into the water and worked up a lather, the perfume of roses teased her nose.

  Out of the blue, a memory popped up in her mind: of the day Ash had cut dozens of roses in the garden, had picked apart the blooms and scattered the leaves in her bath. He had performed the services of a maid for her that afternoon, had stayed with her while she had bathed and had washed her body with strong, but gentle hands. Rose leaves still clung to her skin when he had made love to her later on. Their scent had surrounded them like an invisible cloud of pure happiness.

  Georgina sat very still in the cooling water.

  How happy they had been. Deliriously, joyfully happy—and so impossibly young.

  They had felt strong enough to take on the whole world.

  I worshipped the ground you walked on, he had thrown at her in the carriage.—She frowned.—But how could that be when he had jumped at the first chance to expel her from his life and that of their sons? He had never given her a chance to explain, had never listened to her. Not two days ago and certainly not seventeen years ago. Instead, he had raged and ranted, had said the most hurtful things, cutting her into ribbons with his words and his hate.

  But still...

  He had come for her now.

  Why?

  Georgina stood and reached for the towel to dry herself off. On the bed the maids had laid out her wrap-around stays, her chemise, and her grey dress. A peek into the wardrobe showed her that all of her belongings had been brought to Ashburnham Hall. Again, she wondered why. Perhaps Ash had told the truth when he had denied sending the constable after her. If it was true, that only left—

  A sigh escaped Georgina.

  This, then, was a battle she could not win. She knew how devoted Ash was to his mother, how much power the dowager countess wielded in this house. Surely, the older woman would not countenance Georgina’s presence at Ashburnham Hall. It was a wonder Georgina had been allowed to visit her sons as often as she had liked to in the first place.

  Ah well, it did not do to dwell on this now. She reached for the clothes that had been laid out for her, and dressed.

  She had just put everything on and now stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, when a discreet knock sounded on the door. “Yes?”

  The housekeeper slipped into the room. “The young masters are waiting outside, my—Mrs. Crawley. They are very eager to see you.”

  “Oh... thank you.” Georgina quickly twisted her hair and secured it in a tight knot. When she was finished she was surprised to see the housekeeper lingering. “What is it, Mrs Cornwell?”

  For a moment, the woman hesitated, then gave Georgina a tentative smile. “I just wanted to say—we are very glad to have you back, my lady.”

  Georgina turned. “But I’m not staying. You must know that.”

  “Yes. Still—” Mrs. Cornwell bit her lip. “It is good to have you back.” Another smile lit up her face. “Shall I now send the young masters in?”

  “Please do.” Georgina stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her, when her sons stormed through the door.

  “Mama!” In an instant they surrounded her and hugged her and told her how worried they had been.

  Tears sprung to her eyes. “Oh my dears...” In the dark misery of the prison cell, she had believed them to be lost to her forever. And to hold them now was almost too much for her.

  “Whatever happened?” Gareth finally asked. “And why has Father shut himself into the drawing room with Granddame? Nobody tells us anything!” he pouted.

  “He’s with Lady Ashburnham? In the drawing room?”

  Finn nodded. “And he is yelling.” He glanced at his brother and flushed a little. “Mr. Jones caught us listening at the door and sent us away—”

  “—so we have absolutely no clue what is going on,” Gary finished.

  Georgina’s head whirled. “Oh dear.” So it was indeed Lady Ashburnham who had sent for the constable? “Perhaps I should go... Surely I should.”

  “We’ll come with you,” the twins chorused, their faces shining with eagerness.

  But Georgina shook her head. “You’ll wait in Gary’s room—no protests and no dark looks.” They grumbled and argued, yet in the end, it was all in vain. Morosely, they trotted away to Gary’s room, while Georgina slowly went down the stairs to the drawing room. The boys, she found, had been right. Voices were being raised inside, and it seemed that whatever storm was brewing inside the room had not yet abated. Taking a deep breath, Georgina pushed the door open.

  “—only to protect you. How often do I have to repeat this, Ashburnham
? Why, you’re already half infatuated with that person once more.”

  Dark colour flamed high on Ashburnham’s cheeks. “What I choose to do or not do—” He caught sight of Georgina and abruptly broke off. He turned his head, but not before she had seen his flush intensify.

  She gaped at him. He could not—could he?

  “You!” Now the dowager countess had spotted her, too. Angry blotches appeared on her face. “You. How dare you show your face again after all you have done to my poor son?” She turned to Ashburnham. “Don’t you see, Ashburnham? She is going to destroy you again. Would you have me stand by and do nothing? I am your mother! I have to protect you!”

  Ironically, with two sons of her own, Georgina could even understand her motivations. Ashburnham, however, could not.

  “For heavens’ sake, Mother!” he exploded. “I am no longer a boy in leading strings. I can well look after myself!”

  The dowager countess’s eyes narrowed. “Ha! Just look at what she did to you last time! Does that mean nothing to you?” Suspicion sharpened her features as her eyes flickered over Ashburnham’s face. “Dear God!” she exclaimed. “It doesn’t. You’re about to forgive her, aren’t you? How can you—after all she has done?”

  A strange sense of displacement overcame Georgina. Surely this was all only the frantic conjecture of a worried mother. After all the things he had thrown at her a mere two days ago, he could not possibly... Truly, it would be ludicrous to assume...

  Yet as Ash threw her a quick, embarrassed glance, she remembered their earlier argument in the carriage. His demand of an apology.

  Georgina frowned.

  No, not a demand. He had been almost begging.

  Ashburnham shook his head. “You excite yourself over nothing, my lady,” he said brusquely, and brushed past the dowager countess to go Georgina. “I see you have had a chance to refresh yourself.” His expression gentled. “I hope you have found everything to your liking. Why don’t you sit down?” He offered her his arm. Flabbergasted, she let him lead her to a chair. “I will ring for tea.”

  “Tea?” his mother gasped.

  “Tea,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “And then we will talk about this like rational beings.”

  “You must be out of your mind, Ashburnham!”

  “Indeed, I assure you I am not, my lady,” he said, impatience harshening his voice. “It was ill judgment on your part to send the constable after Georgiana. You might have meant well—”

  “Of course, I—”

  “But something like that won’t happen again,” he overrode the dowager countess. “So we will all sit down and talk about this situation and find a solution to it.”

  Yet unimpressed, his mother continued to glower at him. She had lived and ruled at Ashburnham Hall for a very long time and was used to being obeyed. Even her son, Georgina remembered, had usually done her bidding. Except for that one time when he had married her. She shook her head. The dowager countess must have been triumphant when all her dark predictions had seemed to come true.

  That he would now go against the older woman’s wishes struck Georgina as extraordinarily odd. Indeed, his whole behaviour was odd—his solicitousness towards herself and his obvious caring could only be the result of an overheated brain. Perhaps he had suffered sunstroke?

  “You are quite out of your mind, Ashburnham!” the dowager countess snapped. “She cannot stay here if that is what you are talking about!”

  Ash’s nostril’s flared. “And I won’t let her go back to the inn if that is what you are talking about.”

  Georgina’s head whirled. He was behaving in the most extraordinary way. “Really, it is quite all right,” she tried to intervene. “The inn is perfectly comfortable.” Even though she did not know how much longer she would be able to afford staying there.

  “Not comfortable enough for my peace of mind.” He gave her a look of such intensity, she felt it must surely scorch her skin. Then his expression gentled and his lips curved into a crooked smile. “Another vanishing act would be rather too much for my poor nerves, I am afraid.”

  Just like that, he offered her a glimpse of the old Ash, of the man she had loved so much. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat sped up, a heavy, almost painful thump-thump against her breastbone. Even as a young man, he had always exerted a tight control over himself and his feelings. As a girl, she had revelled in the fact that for her his cool demeanor had inevitably cracked—with lust, with tenderness, with all that she could make him feel.

  The blood throbbed in her ears.

  How she had loved making him lose control and driving him wild with need! Filled with the greed of young age, she had enjoyed her own sexual power—the same power he had helped her to discover. Only in hindsight had she realised what a gift he had given her, to surrender to her in this way.

  He was proud, she knew that, and if he truly did believe that she had been unfaithful to him, what a betrayal this must have seemed to him. How much more extraordinary then his behavior since he had rescued her from gaol!

  Their gazes met and clung.

  Suddenly, Georgina’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. Her skin seemed to tighten over muscles and bones, and started to tingle. As she watched, his eyes darkened with an emotion she dared not name.

  Surely he couldn’t...

  But alas, there was a knock at the door, and the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

  “Yes?” Ash turned his head.

  The door opened and the butler stepped into the room. “Mr.—” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Richardson and Mr. Sherard,” he announced in dignified tones.

  “Heavens, Jones,” the dowager countess snapped, and the lines bracketing her mouth deepened with more displeasure. “I thought it would have been obvious that we are not receiving any calls at present.”

  “That I can well understand,” a new voice said, deep, male, and achingly familiar. A man pressed past Jones into the room—

  —and Georgina thought her heart would surely stop. She raised a trembling hand to cover her mouth.

  The dowager countess gasped.

  He looked at Lady Ashburnham, his lips curving into an unpleasant smile. “Especially not if it is a ghost from the past. Is that not so, aunt?”

  He was older, of course, broader, with a hardness in his voice and expression Georgina did not remember. And still... and still...

  Her hand fell to her side. Without conscious thought, she rose to her feet. “Guy!”

  His head shot around; his gaze flew to meet hers. And then he came striding towards her. “Dearest!” He took her hand and bowed his head to press a lingering kiss onto her knuckles.

  As she looked down on his ruffled, dark hair, sudden grief pierced her heart. Oh, all those things they both had lost! Tears welled in her eyes.

  He looked up, his eyes reflecting an ocean of regret. “Can you ever forgive me?” he murmured.

  A single tear overflowed and prickled on her skin. “There is nothing to forgive,” she whispered back, her voice nearly choked by the emotions that rose inside her. Oh dear God, to have him back. To see for herself that he was all right. She raised her free hand to his cheek and cupped his face. “Nothing.” Her thumb rubbed in tiny circles over his skin.

  He turned his head a little and kissed her palm.

  “If you don’t step away from her at once, I’m going to run you through here and now!” Ash ground out. “Good for you that you’ve brought your second with you.”

  Chapter 15

  Without taking his eyes from Georgina and without letting go of her hand, Guy took a small step back. Her brows rose in silent question, which he answered with a smile. And so she looked past him at the man who had come into the room after him, young and blue-eyed, with a mop of golden curls. Yet there was a strength and seriousness evident in his face and stance that belied his youth.

  “Is he—”

  “Yes.” Another smile curved Guy’s lips. “A true nonesuch.”
>
  She pressed his fingers. “I am so happy for you,” she whispered, blinking back more tears.

  He kissed her fingers one last time, before he truly stepped back from her and turned to confront his cousin, who looked ready to commit murder. Dark colour had risen in Ash’s face, and an unholy light glowed in his eyes.

  Yet, apparently unperturbed, Guy raised a brow. “And for what, exactly, do you wish to call me out? For kissing your former’s wife hand just now, or for being a coward seventeen years ago and leaving your mother to wreck your marriage?”

  “How dare you?” The voice of the dowager countess throbbed with hatred. “I will make sure you won’t be able to show your face in society ever again. I—”

  “Threats, my lady?” He cocked his head to the side. “That might have worked seventeen years ago, but now I’m no longer a frightened boy.” Only then did he look her fully into the face.

  With detached amazement, Georgina saw her former mother-in-law pale. “You... you...” A tremor passed through the old woman. But then she straightened again and her eyes narrowed to slits of fury. “How dare you show your face again in this house? I will expose your dirty little secret to the world. I will make sure everybody knows what you are!”

  “What I am?” Guy echoed in icy tones. “Oh, I would not do that, my lady.” Slowly, steadily, he approached her, while he wielded words like deadly weapons. “Because then all the world would learn what you are.”

  In an arrogant gesture, the dowager countess lifted her chin. “You would not dare.”

  He stopped in front of her. “Try me,” he taunted. However, when he continued, turning, all trace of mockery had fled his voice. “I have never slept with your wife, Freddie.”

  At the old pet name, Ash’s head jerked back. His nostrils flared.

  “And I have never touched her in any other way than a brother would touch his sister,” Guy finished, his voice sure and firm.

  “The hell you have!” Ash’s eyes burnt. At his sides his hands clenched into fists, so tight his knuckles shone white. “If I had ever doubted my mother’s testimonial all those years ago, your touching reunion with my wife just now would surely have convinced me of its truth.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. Taking a step forward, he hissed, “You bastard! Wasn’t it enough to lie with her and to ruin her? Did you have to abandon her as well?”