Page 89 of The Pleasures of Passion
And in his heart, Niall trusted her to keep his secret. And his family’s.
Because he loved her.
He always had. Even when he’d believed the worst of her, some kernel of him had clung to the hope that she wasn’t the woman his father had made her out to be.
She settled the restlessness in him as no one else ever had, offered him respite from the tumult in his mind. One look at her with Silas, and he knew that together they could make a very happy family.
But she could only learn to trust him again if he trusted her. So he had to tell her the truth—because he couldn’t go on without her.
He took a deep breath. “The duel all those years ago was indeed fought on behalf of a woman—but not the sort of woman you think. I fought Joseph Whiting to gain justice for Clarissa.”
Eighteen
Brilliana gaped at him. He’d fought the duel over hissister? But she had barely been out at that point. “Did Whiting insult her? Harm her somehow?”
A hard look entered Niall’s eyes. “He raped her.”
“Oh, my Lord. And she . . . told you?” Most women would have hidden it, if only to preserve their reputations.
“She didn’t have to. I came upon them just as he finished using her most brutally.” A haunted look crossed his face as he slid from the bed to pull his drawers on. “If you could have seen her lying there in the orangery that night, broken and bleeding and sobbing her heart out—”
“Your poor sister! How awful!” She could only imagine how terrible it would be to be taken against her will. Reynold might have been abrupt, but he had never hurt her.
Niall slanted a wary glance at her. “You don’t blame her, do you?”
“Of course not! How could I? One hears of scoundrels who try to get girls alone to kiss them, or put their hands where they shouldn’t. But this goes beyond the pale.”
Suddenly, the full significance of his confession hit her. He had never been involved with a mistress. He had never betrayed her. As he’d said back then, he’d had good reason to duel.
“But why didn’t you tell me this years ago, when you asked me to run away with you?” she whispered.
His face closed up. “My father swore me to secrecy to save Clarissa’s reputation. Whiting hadn’t told his seconds what the duel was about, hoping he could force Clarissa into marriage since he’d taken her innocence. Indeed, he made an offer for her when I discovered them together. But I wasn’t about to sentence my sister to life with such a villain.”
Brilliana shivered. “Certainly not.”
“Once I’d killed him and it was clear that no one but Clarissa and I knew the truth, I turned to Father for help. He pointed out that we could preserve Clarissa’s reputation as long as we prevented her from having to testify to what had happened. The only way to avoid a trial was for me to flee England, so I did—to ensure she could have a future.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at Brilliana. “I don’t regret it. I did what I had to.”
She rose from the bed to slip her nightgown on. “Of course. I don’t dispute that. But . . . I know you made a vow to your father, but you said I was your true love. Surely you could have toldme.”
His gaze was stark. “How would that have changed anything?”
“For one thing, your father’s lies to me wouldn’t have swayed me. I would have clung to the hope that you might return. I would have tried harder to reach you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I wouldn’t have married Reynold.”
He shook his head sadly. “Your circumstances forced you into that, as surely as mine forced me into fleeing. Your father gave you no more choice than mine gave me.”
“But if I’d known you were waiting for me, I might have—I don’t know—tried to find out from your mother where you were. Or from your sister. I might have gone abroad with you and taken Mama, too.”
“Bree,” he said gently. “Your mother could never have managed such a trip, and you know it.”
“Still, I would have held firm against Papa,” she protested. “I would have waited for you.”
“And stood by while your mother went to debtors’ prison? I doubt that.”
She winced. He had a point. And yet . . . “We’ll never know, will we? I might have managed something, but you didn’t trust me with the truth, so I believed your father and made my own arrangements.”
“It wasn’t a matter of trust.”
