Page 64 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
Constance smiled.
“I don’t think you want to know, Nicholas. It’s better for you not to. All this nonsense about knowing who your mother is. It makes no difference. Forget about it. Don’t let it trouble you. No one will care when you’re married to me,” she said, placing her hand on his chest and smiling.
Nicholas sighed, but there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied, and she would hold the secret over him for the rest of his life. But as he left the dining room, a hiss came from along the corridor, and turning, he found Harry beckoning him towards the library.
Chapter 20
The snow came up to Amelia’s knees, and she paused, catching her breath, trying to make out the path across the moorland. She left the gardens by a side gate, following a path she thought might lead out onto the road she and her mother had come along in their carriage on the day of their arrival.
But the path had soon become indistinguishable from the surrounding heather, and the drifts were growing higher, her way forward becoming more difficult by the moment.
“Oh, it’s no use. I’m lost!”she exclaimed to herself, fearing she would have no choice but to return to the house and admit her defeat.
But the dreadful thought of seeing Nicholas again spurned her on. She never wanted to see him again, and even if she had to spend another night outside, it would be preferable to such treacherous and wicked company as that of the earl and Constance.
But as for which way to go, she was still uncertain, and reluctantly, she retraced her steps back to the gate leading into the gardens. As she approached, she was surprised to see the stable boy, wrapped in a large scarf, hurrying off, as though making for home. He looked at her with the same look of surprise he had given her that morning in the horse’s stall.
“Good day, Miss. shouldn’t you be inside?” he asked, and Amelia blushed.
“Yes… well… I… I want to get to the village. I’m meeting someone at the inn,” she replied, still not entirely sure if there was a village or an inn to get to.
Ashworth House and the Amhurst estate appeared to exist in glorious isolation, bordered by the sea and cliffs on one side, and the moorland on the other. She had seen no sign of further habitation for miles, though she was certain she had heard Clara and Isobel speak about the village.
“Then you need the path across the moor, miss,” the boy replied.
“It’s covered with snow,” she said, not wanting to admit she had already got lost once that morning.
“Follow the markers, Miss. The yew trees,” he said, pointing to a line of trees stretching across the moorland.
“Oh yes, how foolish of me. I see now,” she said, and the stable boy nodded.
“A Merry Christmas to you, Miss,” he said, and Amelia smiled.
“A Merry Christmas to you, too, and thank you,” she replied.
She watched him go, walking in the opposite direction to take the clifftop path. With a renewed hope of escape, Amelia set off along the path the boy had indicated. Following the line of yew trees away from the house, she wondered if anyone had noticed her absence yet.
***
“All of them were hidden under the bed,” Harry said, tossing the pile of letters onto Nicholas’ desk.
Nicholas stared at them in astonishment. He could not believe Constance had been foolish enough to leave the object of her blackmail to be found. She had always possessed a certain self-assured arrogance, and now, it seemed her self-assurance had worked against her.
“My God.” Nicholas said, and Harry smiled.
“I’ve glanced over them,” he said, and Nicholas stared at him in astonishment.
“You know what’s in them?” he asked, and Harry nodded.
“You need to read them yourself. It’s not what you think, and I don’t know why she thought she could hold the facts of what they contain over you. It’s really nothing at all,” he said, and Nicholas’ eyes grew wide with amazement.
The letters were dated, and put in order. The first one dating many years ago to just after Nicholas had been born. He sat down in the chair by the hearth to read through the first letter. His brow furrowed. It was as Constance had claimed; a letter to her father. In it, Nicholas’ father spoke of a woman he referred to as “Madam.”
“Itwasan affair?” Nicholas said, looking up at Harry, who nodded.
“Your father admits as much, but as for a scandal…you’re your father’s son. He says as much. He admits the affair was a moment of madness with this mysterious “Madam,” and he felt immense regret at the hurt he caused you your mother,” Harry replied.
Nicholas went on reading, the correspondence unfolding as the course of his life continued. The letters were infrequent, but recounted events as they unfolded. They started with his birth, his father telling his mother about the affair with “Madam,” and his father’s gratitude to his wife for accepting Nicholas as her own.
