Page 18 of To Claim the Long-Lost Lover
“Scar, we are calling in debts and favours. Come onto my territory and take what is mine, will they? The clinic burns. The school, too. Anything those interfering do-gooders support in the slums. I want it all destroyed.” He held up a finger. “Mind! All to be done through others. I want the slums to rise up against them. Keep my name out of it. We don’t want to fight them head on.”
Scar nodded, and hurried off to carry out his instructions.
The Beast sank back on his throne. “Not yet,” he whispered. “We will strike from the shadows until they are weak and we are strong. We will take back what is ours and we will have our revenge.”
* * *
Before Sarah reached her rooms, a footman brought her a message to say that the duke had returned home, and would like to see her.
He was in his study, standing before the fire with his hands behind his back. He turned to greet her with a welcoming smile. “Sarah. How went your holiday in the country?”
She was comfortable enough in his company to give a grimace as her response and he showed his sympathy in his commiserating smile.
“That bad, was it?”
“Elias was bullied, and my suitors proved themselves...unsuitable. Some of the company was pleasant enough, Uncle, but I am very tired of the pettiness and judgementalism of many who consider themselves the cream of Society.”
His eyes flared with concern. “Was Elias hurt?”
“The bullying was verbal rather than physical. I fear that Elias has suffered worse in his short life. But he was pleased to leave, and I rather think Drew was, too.”
The duke barked a short laugh. “He was. His opinion of Society marches with yours, and he found the company at the house party long on gossip and short on sense.”
He sobered. “Speaking of your son and gossip, I have heard from someone I trust that people are questioning your relationship with Elias.”
Sarah waved a dismissive hand. “They will pass on to some other topic soon enough. They can prove nothing.”
“No one has suggested a candidate for Elias’s father, but I am given to understand... Sarah, is the new Viscount Bentham the man?”
Sarah could only nod. How did Uncle James know? Most of those who knew the secret were dead.Surely Mama and Aunt Georgie have betrayed me?But her uncle was their brother. Would they have kept the secret if he asked the question?What will he do now that he knows?
“Drew tells me that Bentham was here when you arrived home this morning,” His Grace commented.
Meaning what? Did her uncle think she had taken up again with the man who had betrayed her so cruelly? “He is a doctor, or so he says. He was attending the urchin to whom Charlotte is offering shelter.”
The duke shook his head in bemusement. “So Drew says. Something about a kidnapping, a visit to a brothel, and an escape with two young women as souvenirs. What is Bentham to you now, my dear niece?”
It was a question without an answer—all the pain warring with the helpless longing he could still induce, despite their pasts, despite the multitude of ways in which they had both changed.
“Am I to welcome him to the family?” the duke asked, inexorable. She knew he cared for her, wanted to protect her, but her heart cried,Leave me alone.
“He wants to explain, he says,” she blurted. “But what explanation can there be? I thought we were married! He told me the wedding was legal, that I was his wife, that he would make all right with my father.” She blinked hard and stiffened her face against the tears. “And then he disappeared and my father told me that he’d lied; that he must have known the marriage was not legal since I did not have my father’s consent to the match.”
She sighed, remembering that terrible time. “I was ruined and he was gone. They told me he took money to leave, but I didn’t believe them. I thought he must be dead. I was so sure that if he lived, he would come back to me.” The tears spilled down her cheeks despite her best efforts. “But he is alive, so I was wrong. He did not come home!”
The duke pursed his lips, then took her by the elbow and led her to a chair, handing her a crisp white handkerchief. “I think I need to hear the whole story, dear Sarah. Sit, and explain. When did Bentham wed you, and where? This was, I take it, before Elias was born?” He sat in the chair beside hers, clasping her hand, his eyes still as kind and as calm as ever.
“It was before Elias was conceived,” Sarah insisted, flushing, because that had been more by good luck than good management. She took a deep breath to compose herself. Uncle James had not berated her for the story so far; had continued to call her ‘dear’.
“We were at Applemorn Hall in Somerset. Charlotte and I had mumps, and Charlotte was very sick. Mama decided that we should convalesce at Applemorn, where Bath was close enough that Charlotte could take the waters.”
Her voice softened and she smiled a little. “Nate and I had seen one another on earlier visits. Mama liked Applemorn in summer, and we often stayed there. But he and I did not really meet until that summer.”
“How old were you, Sarah?”
“Fifteen, when we arrived. I had my sixteenth birthday while we were waiting... Well, I shall get to that.”
“And Bentham?”
