Page 71 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
Rumor had spread that The Mastiff had died at Lord Dresday’s hands, and no one had seen fit to correct the assumption. Nora could easily have filtered the truth through society, but if Hugh and Lizzie were to stand a chance of starting a new life, away from boxing and Lord Dresday’s vengeance, it was easier if the country thought he was gone.
Mrs. Roberts nodded. “Of course, Lord Sinclair.” She scraped back her chair and stood once more. “Now, I suppose I ought to find the box of gifts that his father left, so you may have them. I will not be long.”
She exited the office with her usual air of purpose, leaving Johanna and Mark to survey the extensive correspondence that Hugh had received during his time here. Indeed, Johanna thought it was no wonder Hugh had been a miserable child, for if his parents had written to him this frequently, of course he would have hoped they would come back for him.
“Am I being deceitful, allowing everyone to believe my half-brother is dead?” Mark glanced at her.
She sighed softly. “It is the only course of action, my love,” she reassured. “If Lord Dresday hears word that Hugh is well, he may name him in court, and that would see your brother placed under threat of arrest. If he and Lizzie are to be free, we must maintain the ruse.”
“But the Baron will be tried for murder.” Mark seemed agitated.
Johanna nodded. “He will, but do not forget that he is still a member of the peerage. His sentence will be more lenient, regardless of his crime. That is the power of station.” Her jaw clenched. “And we must not forget that he tried to kill you, and might well have done, if Hugh had not intervened. For that, the Baron ought to be tried for murder.”
She had already vowed to give Hugh and Lizzie the small fortune that Peter had left to her, so they could go away somewhere and begin their lives afresh. It was the least she could do, considering Hugh had saved her beloved, and she had already forgiven him for kidnapping her.
You were desperate because Lord Dresday wanted to destroy your livelihood. I can understand that.
Mark nodded. “Yes, I suppose I must think on it like that.” He turned his attention back to the letters.
Leaning into her beloved, Johanna peered over his shoulder as they read the first—and, indeed, the last—of the letters that had been sent to Hugh while he resided at this orphanage.
My dearest boy,
I do not know how much longer I have left, for my health has abandoned me. Nevertheless, I do not want you to fret or worry, or for you to shed tears of grief for me, my sweet son. I am tired, that is all, and I must rest now. As I fall into my slumber, I shall dream of you and your darling brother. I shall envision you playing upon the lawns together, laughing through the hallways of this manor, and causing mischief.
There has not been a day since your birth where I have not thought of you. I loved you the moment I discovered you were growing within me, and I love you still. I have never forgotten you, and I never shall, just as I hope you never forget me.
But there are things I must say, for I do not know if I will ever have another opportunity. I know you must be angry with your father and I, and that you do not understand why you must live where you are instead of with us, but I do not want you to blame anyone other than me. You must not blame my husband, or your brother—who I know would adore you, if he could but know you—and nor must you blame your father or your stepmother.
Remember, always, that you are loved, and you are cherished, and you were wanted. As you grow into a fine young man, perhaps you will find it in your heart to forgive me, for maybe you will understand that life is not always as simple as one might like it to be.
Most of all, I pray that you and your brother find love with remarkable young ladies whom I would be proud to call my daughters-in-law. You must always find love, dear boy, for there is no greater gift.
Perhaps, one day, you will find your brother and you will tell him about yourself. Do not be upset if he shuns you to begin with, for he will not understand. You must help him to understand, if you can, and I will hope beyond all hope that you can find a way to be brothers at last.
I love you, darling Hugh. I must go now, for my eyes are growing weary. I will dream of you, my sweet boy. I will dream of you, always.
My fondest love,
Mama
Johanna wiped a stray tear from her cheek as she came to the end of the letter and looked at Mark to gauge his response. His warm, brown eyes shone with sadness, and his hand squeezed Johanna’s, as though checking she was still there.
After browsing through several of the letters, Mark sat back with a sigh. “It is all true, Sweeting. Everything Hugh said—it is all here in black and white. He was loved, and my mother and uncle loved each other.” He blinked slowly. “I cannot fathom how I never knew. I always thought my mother and father adored one another.”
“Perhaps they did,” Johanna replied sagely. “There are many forms of love, my darling. I do not imagine that your father would have allowed your mother to return home if he did not care for her, and you say that he tended to her most diligently when her health failed. Just because she loved your uncle does not mean she did not love your father, too.”
Mark turned and held her gaze. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do, my love.” She raised a hand to his face and brushed her thumb across the rise of his cheek. “I remember seeing how affectionate they were when I stayed at your country estate those two summers. That cannot be falsified, darling. But, as we both know, true first love is a potent thing. Like a strong current, it pulls people back together.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “I do hope you are not talking about that wretched beast who abandoned you?”
“Never, my love.” She chuckled. “It has always been you. We have simply been fortunate to find one another again, at a time in which we can be together. Not everyone is so lucky.”
Mark leaned in and placed a kiss upon her lips. “I had not thought of it like that.”
“Be at peace, my love,” she urged. “For there is only one person who deserves your ire, and he is languishing in a jail cell, awaiting trial for his misdeeds.”
