‘Why did you not tell me?’ It was the wrong time to ask him, in a room full of people. But suddenly it was urgent that she know.
He considered for a moment. ‘Have I not? Hmm. I thought I had.’ He shrugged in apology. ‘I find I am happier if I do not think on him much. As I am sure he is content not to think of me.’
‘Is that why you left home so early? Rosalind said that you found it easier to stay at Anneslea with the old Earl. And that she hardly saw you at all until after she was grown-up.’ She reached out and touched his sleeve.
He smiled at her in reassurance. ‘That is the way we like to remember the facts, yes. I came to live with my Grandfather Pennyngton because Lincolnshire was closer to my school than our home in Shropshire. It was much easier to come here for holidays.’ He shrugged again. ‘But I suspect that if we measured the distance it would have been a much shorter trip to the rectory, and on roads that were better and less affected by weather. The truth of the matter was Morley would not have me at home, and I had no desire to return. Nothing my mother could say would sway him.’
‘That was most unfair of him.’
‘I cannot say I blame him overly. By the time I was thirteen I was nearly as tall as he was.’ He gave Cammerville a knowing wink. ‘The day came when I disagreed with his parental advice. So I snatched the stick from his hand and broke it over his back.’
Cammerville laughed so hard that tears ran from his eyes, and Harry laughed as well.
‘You struck him?’ Elise looked at him in continued amazement.
He must fear that she was angry with him for keeping secrets, for he hurried to say, ‘I doubt that Rosalind has heard that story either. It is one of the many things that we do not discuss in my family. Nor do we dwell on the fact that Morley threw me, bag and baggage, from his house. But that is the real reason I ended up with my father’s family.’
‘That is horrible.’ She looked back and forth between his smile and Cammerville’s obvious amusement, and her lip trembled in sympathy for the little boy he had been.
Harry reached out and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, as though surprised by her strong reaction to something that had been over and done with for almost twenty years. ‘It was not so terrible. It was quite possible that I earned the punishment he gave me. After Father died I was well on the way to having an uncontrollable temper. Grandfather took me in and put me right. He taught me that one does not need to rage to accomplish what one desires. One can do as much by patience as one ever can with temper.’
‘Perhaps you learned too well,’ she murmured. ‘But it was better, if Morley beat you, that you remained away.’
‘And in time I demonstrated my improved character to him, and he allowed me home to visit Rosalind.’ He frowned. ‘Of course it was too late to heal some wounds. I only saw my mother once before she died.’
‘He separated you from your mother?’ Her voice was an anguished bleat, and Cammerville laughed at her tender heart.
Harry blinked, and absently brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. ‘It had to happen eventually, once I went away to school. The miserable old goat brought the whole family up here for Christmas, after I was of age. Of course, he turned around in only a day and rushed them all home again. But I had a very nice dinner with mother and Morley that evening.’ He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a cautious hug. ‘It was fine, really. And over very long ago. Nothing to be so distressed about.’
‘Oh, Harry.’ Now she was both tearful and slightly disgusted with him. And he was giving her such a puzzled look, as though he knew he had done something wrong but had no idea what it might be. Like a lost little boy.
She stamped her foot, trying to drive the sob back down her throat, and whimpered, ‘Excuse me, Lord Cammervile.’ Then she seized the towel from Harry’s hand and hurried towards the door.
Behind her, she could hear Cammerville’s explosive, ‘Women, eh? They are an eternal mystery. Is it too early for a brandy, do you think?’
And Harry’s response. ‘Let us find Rosalind and see where she is hiding it. I feel strangely in need of cheer.’
Elise hurried into the hall before the tears could overtake her. Of all the times for her husband to open up and reveal his soul it would have to be when they were chatting with one of his more ridiculous friends, in a room full of people. Lord Cammerville must have thought her quite foolish to be near to crying over a story that they thought was nothing more than a common fact of boyhood.
But not to her. Never had she seen her father raise a hand to Carl. Nor had her brother reason to respond in anger to punishment. And the sight of Harry running a hand through his hair like a lost child, telling her how one mistake had cost him his mother…
She gulped back another sob.
‘Here, now, what is the matter?’ Nicholas reached out and seized her by the arms, arresting her flight. ‘Crying in a common hallway? What is the cause?’ He looked happier than she had seen him in months, but his expression changed quickly to concern.
‘I have done something terrible.’
He looked doubtful. ‘Surely not?’
‘I have left my husband.’
‘Not again.’ He drew away from her in alarm.
‘No. Before. When I left him to come to you, Nicholas.’ And she took him by the arms, trying to get him to listen. ‘I teased him, and it hurt. And then I left him when he needed me.’
‘And you have noticed this now?’ Nicholas shook his head in amazement. ‘Very well. And what do you mean to do about it?’
‘I do not know. You are a man. Tell me. What can I say to him that will make it all better?’
‘Say to him?’ Nick responded with his most rakish smile. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Oh, darling, I doubt you need say anything at all to have a man at your feet. You have but to wait until the guests are safely asleep, and open your bedroom door. You will not need words after that.’
There was the sound of masculine throat-clearing, and an inarticulate noise of female distress. And then her husband and his sister walked past them, down the hall.
Harry looked his usual calm, collected self. But Rosalind was nearly overcome with emotion, her eyes darting from Elise, to Nicholas and back, trying to choose whom she should scold first.
When she slowed, Harry took her by the arm and pulled her along, refusing to let her stop. But as they passed he gave Nicholas an arch look that made the man carefully release Elise’s arms, as though he were taking his finger off the trigger of a primed pistol. Then Harry smiled to his sister, and said, ‘The brandy, Rosalind. Remember the brandy. We shall find a glass for you as well. Your father will not approve, but so be it.’
Chapter Thirteen
Rosalind’s foul mood continued unabated through dinner, despite the small glass of brandy Harry had given her to calm her nerves. While he’d said it was flattering to have a sister so devoted to one’s happiness as to be reduced to spluttering rage by the scene of one’s wife and her lover in a position that could be considered by some as compromising, he’d assured her it was hardly a reason to ruin Christmas dinner.
His assurances that it did not require action had been met with frustrated cries of, ‘Oh, Harry,’ and elaborate threats on her part to chase down Tremaine and make him pay bitterly for his lack of manners.
A rumour from the cook that the evening’s goose was past its prime and too tough to eat had driven the scene temporarily from her mind, and Harry had made a mental note to reward the kitchen staff generously on Boxing Day for the timely distraction. He had smiled to himself in satisfaction and poured another brandy. For, after seeing the tears in his wife’s eyes over his tragic childhood, he doubted that Tremaine, annoying though he might be, was making as much progress as it appeared.
After a dinner of goose that had been more than tender enough for his taste, Rosalind stood and announced, ‘Tonight, for those who are interested, we shall have dancing in the ballroom. Come and join us once you have finished your port.’
Harry followed her out of the dining room and down the hall to the ballroom. ‘If you can still manage a ball,
