Page 14 of Obsession: The Unspoken Sin
“Laurel.” Alice gave that gentle rebuke.
“No, no,” Denbigh murmured. “It is fine. I have a name.” His voice sounded thick to his own ears. “My name is Laurence.”
Some sort of dawning realization sparked in the child’s blue eyes.
“Laurence?” The child whipped her focus up to Alice so quickly, her tangle of curls bounced wildly around her. She looked to Alice for some sort of confirmation. “Your friend Laurence?”
“Yes, Laurel,” Alice said softly. “The very same.”
All the breath became trapped in Denbigh’s lungs. She’d spoken about him. She’d told her secret daughter about him. For there could be no doubting the girl belonged to Alice. What had Alice shared? What stories had she told? And it seemed so very unfair that he should know absolutely nothing about Laurel, that she should have been a stranger before now. He wanted to know about her, everything there was, from the moment she’d been conceived to now when she stood before him, a happy, smiling child.
An exuberant, happy meld of a laugh and cry cleared some of Denbigh’s fog. Laurel launched her little arms about his neck and squeezed him tight.
“I am so excited. I never met M-Miss Killoran’s f—” The child caught herself and peeked up at Alice. “Friends.”
“Oh?” he said, his voice like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel. “Who are Miss Killoran’s friends?”
“You and Wynn,” she happily prattled, like it was the most natural thing in the world for a girl more babe than child to lie about her connections. “Elsbeth and Caroline.”
Alice’sfriends? His heart, that organ responsible for his life’s blood, seized painfully and viciously.
Alice cleared her throat. “Laurel, let me accompany you back to the nursery.” Her facial muscles were as tight as his own. “I promise this will not be the last you see of Laurence.”
Somehow Denbigh found the strength to stand. Did Alice truly mean that? Did she make Laurel a real promise? He searched for some hint but Alice remained a vault. In their time apart, she’d become adept at concealing her thoughts and emotions.
“Yes,” he murmured. “You may count on us meeting again, Laurel.”
As he watched them go and stood alone in his future—temporary—residence, he made another vow. He’d arrived at Exmoor’s behest. He’d promised to bring Alice home, and he would, but when he left, Denbigh would also be leaving with another person—Alice’s daughter.
Chapter 6
Denbigh had always been clever. That’s one of the reasons she’d so enjoyed sparring with him. He possessed a sharp wit and a keen intellect. He enjoyed debating the enlightened philosophers, and he read everything from Wordsworth to Voltaire. But even if he hadn’t been the cleverest fellow, even if he’d suffered a fall from his mount and had his faculties knocked around, it wouldn’t have taken much for him to deduce the fact that she had a daughter.
Even when Laurel had caught herself and addressed Alice asMissand not asMama, she’d seen it in Denbigh’s stunned, clear blue eyes—he’d have known the identity of the little girl at her feet.
He’d been so tender, so gentle. Alice had a glimpse of what life would’ve been like with a man such as Laurence, good, honorable, wonderful with children, loving to all, as her father had been. Instead, Alice made the mistake of finding someone who’d been a shadow of Laurence. He’d put on a great show, whereas Laurence’s had never been an act. He was who he was. A good man, and an honest man. It’s why she’d asked him to meet her here.
Now, at quarter past eleven o’clock the next night, she dismounted in Hyde Park and let her borrowed mount—one she was freely allowed to use by the Earl of Dynevor—wander. He found a nearby patch and made it his own.
And Alice waited.
She wasn’t alone. She knew that. One of the guilty pleasures she’d allowed herself during her time at the Devil’s Den were midnight rides at Hyde Park. After all, at this hour, one could be absolutely certain there’d never be a respectable lord or lady about. Not in these grounds. No, this was when peers andpeeresses were attending fancy soirees, lavish balls, theaters, and operas. This wasAlice’stime.
But she wasn’t alone. The proprietors at the Devil’s Den allowed their female staff freedom of movement, but they also ensured that protection and security were provided. Guards went with them anywhere, but they kept their distance and stayed away.
Alice’s unease had nothing to do with the surly, scarred guard in the shadows. No, it had everything to do with her impending meeting. The spring breeze tugged at her cloak. Not that she feared seeing Laurence. Strangely, if she’d have been face-to-face with her brother, in a chance meeting, she’d have felt a great deal more awkwardness. She supposed, however, she should feel a great deal moredreadat this meeting she’d requested with Laurence.
Alice rubbed at her chilled arms and looked around for a sight of him. Oh, she wasn’t nonchalant or unaffected. Maybe, more than anything, it was that her joy at seeing him again proved greater than all the discomfort that would come after she let him in on her secret. It was a secret only her non-blood family knew.
Laurence waslikefamily. When she was sixteen, she’d opened her heart to him and admitted the long-held secret that she loved him. He’d handled it with the grace and aplomb only the Earl of Denbigh could. He’d basically patted her on the head and said her feelings were just confused. That she was Exmoor’s sister and she’d find the real gentleman she loved one day. And what had she done instead? She’d settled and made a muddle of her life in the process.
The gravel crunched on the path behind her. Alice stiffened and looked toward the sound.
Laurence stepped from the shadows. Attired in a fine black wool cloak, black breeches, black boots, and a short black hat,the only thing that set him apart from a highwayman was a black domino.
Alice let her arms fall to her side. “I expect you have questions,” she said, by way of greeting.
The small, boyish half-grin he’d always worn around her quirked his lips, and it still had the same effect it always had.
