She would be hurt by Stephen’s bluntness, and he hated to wound her, but there was no other way to proceed.
“My father grew up at this estate,” he informed her.
“I had heard that.”
“He was raised as if he was the earl’s son, with all the wealth and trappings that could be bestowed on such a fortunate fellow.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I need you to comprehend why my brother behaves as he does. I need you to understand what he’s truly like and why the two of you could never have ended up together.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she said. “Such a preposterous conclusion has never occurred to me.”
“Hasn’t it?”
“No.” She peered down at the rug, unable to meet his gaze.
“One year, when my father was in London, he fell in love with the most flamboyant—but very common—actress. He wed her shortly after. For this monumental affront to the Price family, he was disowned and disavowed.”
“What has that to do with me or your brother?”
“I’m getting to that. My parents were killed in a carriage accident when Nicholas was six and I was four. We were orphans, but our relatives viewed us as the sinful stain of our parents’ illicit affiliation.”
“It wasn’t illicit. They were married!”
“Quite so, Miss Wilson. A minister from my father’s church wrote to the old earl, notifying him that he was bringing us back to Stafford.”
Suddenly, Stephen was having trouble continuing. When the trip to Stafford had transpired, he’d been so young. He had one tiny memory of that vile day, but it still had the power to cripple him with unwanted emotion.
Anxious to compose himself, he whirled away and went to the sideboard to pour his own brandy. As he sipped it, Miss Wilson asked, “What happened when you arrived at the estate?”
“The earl had men at the gate with orders to prevent us from entering. We were turned away—two little boys with nowhere to go.”
“My goodness. I wasn’t aware . . .”
“Few people are.” He pushed down the well of grief that always bubbled up when he recounted the experience. “Over the ensuing months, the minister contacted other of our kin—cousins and aunts and the like—but no one would help us. So . . . we were raised in an orphanage, the lost children of this incredibly wealthy, aristocratic family.”
“And your brother?”
“Vowed vengeance against all of them. He intends to wed as high as he can to rub their noses in his rise to eminence. He wants to show them that they can’t keep him out, that he can waltz into their midst and behave however he wishes.”
“I see.”
“Once he was installed as earl, his first act was to find the prettiest, richest girl of the ton and propose to her.”
“Lady Veronica.”
“Yes.” He fussed over his brandy, letting the silence play out, letting reality sink in. “He’ll marry her no matter what. While he’s been here at Stafford, he’s never for a single second considered doing anything else—and he never will.”
“Well, of course he won’t.” She tried for a smile, but failed. “Lady Veronica is very beautiful. What man wouldn’t want her for a bride?”
“What man indeed?”
They were quiet for an eternity, with Miss Wilson studying the floor and Stephen studying her.
“I should go,” she finally said, but she didn’t move.
“I’ve known my brother a long time, Miss Wilson.”
“I know you have.”
“He can be very charming—when he chooses to be. An unsuspecting female might be taken off guard. An unsuspecting female might involve herself in ways she hadn’t planned.”
“That woman would be very, very foolish.”
“Yes, she would be, because my brother will always do what will benefit him the most. He will never care who he harms in the process.”
Pensive and morose, she nodded. “Why would you suppose he didn’t mention that he was betrothed?”
“He wouldn’t think it was any of your business.”
She sighed with regret. “He was leaving today without a goodbye.”
“I ordered him away, Miss Wilson. It had come to my attention that he might have been inappropriately dallying with someone. I insisted he depart before he caused any trouble for her.”
“He wanted to go? He was amenable?”
“He never voiced a word of argument,” he lied, “for he recognized that there was no reason for him to stay. Was there?”
“No, no reason occurs to me. Has he ever divulged what is to happen to me and my sisters? We’ve been living at the manor, but it’s time we left. I’ve asked him what we are to do, but he’s never had an answer.”
“For now, you’re to settle in the village. There is a room for rent above the blacksmith’s barn. But eventually, you must select a new location far away from Stafford. I’ll help you with accommodations.”
“In a different town?”
“Yes. There’s nothing for you here.”
“Is this what your brother requested of me?”
“Yes,” he lied again.
She fiddled with her skirt, dawdling, prolonging the moment, then she pushed herself to her feet. “You’ve been very kind. I appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry to have been so blunt.”
“It’s all right. I was wondering if I could impose on you for a few hours.”
“I’ll assist you in any way I can.”
“I was to have a picnic with my sisters, but I’m feeling a bit low. I’d like to rest until I’m more myself.”
“I’d be happy to entertain them for you.”
“You don’t need to. If you could escort them into the village, Mrs. Merrick would watch them.”
At hearing Jo’s name, he covered a wince. “I’ll take them to her.”
She went to the door and opened it, and as she stepped into the hall, she glanced back. She was a tragic figure, so lovely, so forlorn, and Stephen could see why his brother had been smitten.
“I never meant to hurt anyone,” she said. “I wasn’t told about Lady Veronica or I would never have—”
“I know.” He interrupted her so she wouldn’t have to embarrass herself with a humiliating admission. “Nicholas never means to hurt anyone either. It’s just his habit to be callous.”
She walked on, her strides fading,
