Page 49 of To Dare the Devil

Her face softened, and she looked up at him, her beautiful mouth curving. “Oh, Louis. How could you doubt it? Of course, I missed you. I missed you very much.”

Something in his heart eased a little, and he let out a breath. “If I stay here, will you come again? I need to see you again.”

She shook her head. “We’re returning to Wildsyde first thing in the morning, and there’s nowhere there I can meet you.”

He wondered if he imagined the relief in her voice, but was too afraid to question her. There was one question he would have an answer to, though.

“When he asks you, you will say no?” he queried, needing to hear her say it.

She frowned, glancing away from him as shadows passed by the dirty windows outside. Her mother’s voice spoke low, agitated, and then the figures hurried past.

“I must go,” she said, pulling away from him.

Louis caught her hand, holding on tight. “Evie, please, love,” he begged her, beyond pride, needing her reassurance.

“I won’t accept anyone, Louis, you have my word.” She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, snatched up her bonnet, and hurried out of the door.

Louis stood there, her kiss a burn against his lips, marking him as her property more tangibly than any brand she could have given him, and he realised… that had not been the answer he’d been seeking.

19th June 1842, Vane Hall, Chiswick, London.

Max stared at the door, though it had been closed for some time. He’d heard the front door shutting, too. They were gone.

This was why he’d not died in that alley, he realised now. It hadn’t been the act of a merciful God, but a vengeful one. Dying would have been simple. This… This was retribution. It hurt worse than the knife had, he thought, a hand going to the scar on his side as though that might help ease the wound. But that wound had healed. This was fresh and raw, and it felt fatal, though he knew he’d not be that lucky. A part of him welcomed the pain. He’d long felt he had not been punished enough for his past, that he did not deserve to live in luxury, to never know hunger. It was part of the reason he’d stayed with Burt for so long.

He tried to move, and staggered, finding his legs felt weak, discovering he was shaking. Somehow, he made it to the chair behind his desk and sank into it. His breath was coming hard, in sharp little gasps, and he closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

“You deserve it,” he reminded himself. “You bloody deserve it.”

Yet he was not so reformed that he could deny himself a little pity, as the enormity of all he had lost hit him all over again. Beatrice’s beautiful little face, staring at him, Grace’s eyes filled with disgust, and Kathy… Kathy. A sob rose in his throat, and he forced it back down again. He’d done this. If not for Sterling Oak, Grace’s situation would have been very different. I would have gone back, I would have married her, he pleaded with his conscience, but he should have done that at once, should never have taken advantage of a girl’s infatuation with him, should never… should never… should never….

Too late, chimed a spiteful voice in his head. Too little, too late.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and his gaze fell upon the brandy decanter. The desire to lose himself in drink was beyond tempting. No. That was the man he’d been, that had caused this bedamned mess in the first place. The man who had taken Grace’s innocence and left her with a child would do that. He would drink and drink and return to his vile ways, and he would not be that man again.

He’d known he could not have Kathy. That she had come to him, that she had kissed him of her own free will, was a blessing. The memory of the way she had touched him, had spoken his name, he would hold in his heart until his dying day, because he loved her. And this time he understood what that meant, to love someone. It meant leaving them alone, even though it felt like dying, if that was what was best for them.

So, he would leave, go back to Warwickshire as he had planned to do before Kathy had arrived. He reached for a fresh sheet of paper, noticing his hand trembling as he did so. Quickly, he left written instructions to all relevant parties that Miss de Beauvoir was to have complete control of the school project and granted whatever help she needed for the workhouse renovations, plus access to any funds she required. She could draw upon his accounts without limit and make use of Vane Hall as she saw fit. The staff were to accommodate her in whatever way she required.

Once the letters were done, he felt a little steadier. Handing them to Jarvis’, he left instructions that his valet was to pack for a long absence, snatched up his coat, and went out, tying the cravat haphazardly about his throat as he left the house.

He had one last call to make before he left.

19th June 1842, Albany Gardens, Piccadilly, London.

Kathy sat on the bed in Grace’s old bedroom. She had visited here many times in the past when the Baron and Lady Rothborn were in town. Grace sat beside her, holding her hand.

“She’s really his… his daughter,” she said, still numb with shock.

Grace nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Kathy replied, wondering why she was so calm, except… she had known this, hadn’t she? Among the vile litany of his confessions when the fever had been raging, he had said as much. She’d perhaps not understood the words at the time, or… or perhaps she had just refused to understand them.

“He regrets it. What he did to you,” Kathy said, feeling Grace stiffen beside her. She looked up, shaking her head. “I’m not… not defending him. It’s only… he….”

She wanted to tell Grace that he’d changed, that he’d been working so hard to change, but how could she? Grace would not want to hear it. She was no longer certain she could bear to hear it herself. Perhaps some things were unforgivable?

“You understand why I had to come? Your mother must think me a madwoman, for I did not explain, just murmured an excuse about a forgotten appointment. But when she said you were there at that moment, working with him…. As soon as I realised that vile creature had inveigled himself into your life too, I knew I had to go to you, had to keep you safe. I’m so sorry to burden you with my secret, but it was the only way. I know how easy it is to believe in him, to imagine yourself in love with him, and that he loves you, but it’s all lies, Kathy. You do see that?”