Page 49 of Romancing the Scot
The noble, loving brother, Grace thought. He would not kill when anger and honor dictated it, but let his foe live. And only because he knew it would cause his sister more pain than she’d already endured.
“That was the end for me and Wynne. And it was the last time I ever allowed a suitor to approach,” Jo said, letting out a calming breath. “That debacle opened my eyes. It made me appreciate what the Pennington family truly means to me. I was never an adopted daughter to them, never treated any differently than the rest. The love and loyalty of my siblings and parents during that terrible time, and their devotion afterwards, allowed me to follow a path in life that has suited me. I needed no marriage, no love other than their love. I will be the committed daughter to my parents as they grow old, and the affectionate aunt to the children of my brothers and sisters. I am contented with that.”
To be at peace. After such a great disappointment, to find serenity and purpose in life. Whatever emotion Grace had been able to control broke free of its constraints, and tears came to her eyes. Jo saw them and she hugged Grace.
“I’m sorry,” Jo said when they finally drew apart. “I had no intention of dragging you through my own misery.”
“I wanted to know.” Grace wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “I don’t think healing happens until we confront the source of our pain.”
Jo reached for her hand again. “Hugh told me that when you go, you want to return to Antwerp. That you believe you could recover your memory there.”
This was Grace’s chance to speak.
“Don’t go yet,” Jo said. “Give it a little more time. If not for your health and time to gain more strength, do it for me and Hugh.”
“I thought a week would be—”
“I am asking this because of my brother,” Jo interrupted. “Because of the change I’m seeing in him. For the first time in eight long years, something is happening to him. You have no idea of the effect your presence has had on him. He might finally be healing.”
Jo’s words surprised her, stopping Grace from saying what she wanted to say. Questions burned on her tongue. Why eight years? What could have hurt him enough to have his sister worry so?
Conflicting desires twisted within her. She wanted to know more, and yet she wasn’t certain she could afford to allow her heart to be completely lost to this man. This was the road to heartbreak, and she didn’t know why she felt so compelled to follow it.
“No one speaks of it at Baronsford. No one mentions it anywhere—even those apostles of malice—for fear of his temper. But the clues surround us here. You might have seen them. Perhaps you even guessed that Hugh was married before and that he had a son.”
The basket of toys in the library.
“He lost both his wife and child eight years ago. And I’m not exaggerating when I say not a single day has passed that he hasn’t mourned their loss.”
“What happened to them?”
“It was during the war on the Peninsula. At the time, Hugh’s cavalry unit was covering the army’s retreat across Spain. Amelia took their son, Cameron, and went to Vigo. But camp fever was rampant. She and Cam caught it. They died while he was fighting the French at Corunna. He couldn’t reach them. By the time he did, they’d died a horrible death. He’s never been the same since.”
Recognition ripped at her insides. Her father’s regiment was at Corunna.
“He blames himself. He blames the French. To this day, I believe he searches for anyone or anything that he can hold accountable for what happened to his family.”
* * *
When you wrote to me in London, I thought you were sending me on a fool’s errand, but you were correct. Grace Ware is here at Baronsford. I have seen her with my own eyes.
She claims, as a result of the arduous crossing in the crate, to remember nothing of her past, and her hosts believe her. If this is true or if she is acting to protect herself, I cannot say, as yet. As the daughter of Colonel Ware, she is in a peculiar position. I will take immediate steps to determine the veracity of her “amnesia.”
I don’t know if she has the item we seek. If she does, she may not recognize its true value, or how to deliver it as her father planned.
Lord Greysteil appears quite protective, though he clearly does not know whom he is protecting or what she has carried into this country. Still, we should avoid direct confrontation with him.
Your men failed us in Antwerp, and this is our last chance. However we proceed, the next few days should be telling.
Come here directly. Allow for no delay. I shall assuredly need your assistance.
Yours, &c
Chapter 16
On the first day Grace did not appear, Hugh was grateful that at least one of them had enough sense to create some distance between them. They both needed time to allow their passions to cool, to take a measured look at how to behave with each other, to determine how they would present themselves in the company of others.
On the second day, when he didn’t see or hear from her by evening, he began to worry. But his sister assured him that Grace was well. She was dividing the time between her sitting room and the libraries. The two women had been eating lunch in Grace’s suite and each day they’d walked on the bluffs along the river. Their guest was trying to regain her strength, she told him.
