Page 17 of The Confessions of a Lady
‘Of course, my lord.’ Miss Smith dipped into another one of her curtsies and stepped out of the study, shutting the door quietly behind her.
‘Hellfire!’ Liam stood and paced back and forth, his thoughts racing. He wasn’t prepared to meet with Lady Winterbourne so soon. But she likely knew that, which was why she came so quickly.Cursed woman.This was particularly poor timing, when he found his thoughts so confused by the very servant who would be serving them refreshments. If the duchess even suspected his growing attraction to Miss Smith, he was likely tolose his bollocks right along with his mission. The duchess would never stand for such tomfoolery. And neither should Liam.
‘I am a marquess. Major General in the Queen’s bloody army. I’ve survived war, torture, being fathered by a horror of a man. I can manage morning tea with a fucking duchess.’
But as he strode out of his study toward the emerald sitting room, he wasn’t convinced.
‘Philippa. What a pleasant surprise.’ Liam approached the Duchess of Dorsett with a smooth confidence he most certainly did not feel.
‘Hardly.’ Philippa extended her hand and allowed him to press a kiss against her gloved knuckles. Her wicked left brow raised. Cobalt eyes, far too intelligent to bring Liam any comfort, pinned him like an insect to a board. ‘You came to London. After our last visit, I wasn’t sure if you would.’
Philippa had been the Queen’s messenger four months prior. She brought the news of his brother’s death to him at Holly House. And the Queen’s request for his help. Philippa’s timing wasn’t ideal, and his initial reaction had been… less than cordial.
Liam turned from her astute gaze and sat on his favourite carved armchair with dark-purple upholstery. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in this room large enough to accommodate his frame.
Philippa glanced at the loveseat, dismissed it with a blink, then walked to the chair opposite him.
Liam let out a heavy sigh. ‘I couldn’t leave Theodore. Not when he was in such a bad state.’ He didn’t want to revisit Theo’s last few days of life. He blamed himself for his half-brother’s death. Though he’d only known Theo for just over a month, theygrew closer in that time than he and Reynard had been in all the years they spent together.
When Liam returned home from the war in 1844 to a dead father and unlimited access to Richard’s private affairs, he discovered just how deep the Renquist sickness ran. Tenant farmers left to starve while being charged exorbitant rents to fund Richard’s gambling debts. Mistresses paid off to keep Renquist’s darker appetites hidden. And something even more damning: Liam’s mother’s diaries. He found them hidden in Richard’s personal safe.
All the secrets his father tried to keep hidden, Anna Renquist bled onto the pages of her diary. It was there he read about the tragic fate of Theo’s mother. Clara Miller. A lady’s maid and dear friend of Anna’s despite her position as servant. Apparently, Clara’s status meant little to his mother. Anna’s love for Clara was evident in every word she wrote. In her isolated existence, Clara was her only friend. Her closest confidante. And they had something in common.
Lord Richard Renquist.
Clara – much like his mother – was subjected to the warped demands of a man who thought he lived beyond God’s laws. Because Richard did. While Anna couldn’t save Clara from such a horrific fate any more than she could save herself, their shared pain brought them even closer. When Clara inevitably fell pregnant, Richard sent her away. In a cruel move, he separated Anna from her only friend while condemning Clara to a hopeless future. As a pregnant woman with no references, Clara would have limited options for earning any money and even less chance of being able to keep her child.
Anna contracted pneumonia the next winter and died before Liam’s tenth birthday. Liam still wasn’t sure which woman suffered more, but he knew they were both destroyed by the same man.
Lord Richard Renquist.
After finding his mother’s letters, Liam spent three years searching for his half-brother. Theo’s mother had been forced to give Theo up to a foundling home and Clara’s trail ran cold after that. His half-brother’s fate was much like other orphans’ in London: brutal. Three lives destroyed for no reason other than his father’s narcissistic needs.
In November of 1847, Liam finally traced Theo to a dosshouse where he shared his bed in shifts with three other men. By then, there were already signs of the typhoid fever that would ultimately claim Theo’s life. Lack of clean water, putrid sanitation methods, and scarce food in addition to Theo’s attempts of escape through gin and opium all contributed to his declining health.
When Liam found him and took him to Holly House in the stretching plains of Cheshire, he hoped the clean air, warm bed, and healthy food would be enough to bring Theo back from his sickness. While Liam could offer him comfort, he could not find a cure for the typhoid fever raging through Theo’s weakened body.
The grief Liam couldn’t muster for Reynard covered him in waves when Theo died. Of all the Renquist men, Theo deserved a happy ending. While he found his end in the quiet comfort of Liam’s country estate, it was far from happy. Liam failed in his efforts to right his father’s wrong.
Theo followed Reynard into the ground one week after Philippa’s visit.
Liam insisted Theo be buried next to his brother and father. The vicar almost suffered an apoplectic fit, but Liam didn’t care. He hadn’t been able to spare Theo the difficulties of his life, but at least in death, he could honour him.
More fool me.
Philippa blinked. ‘Ah. You couldn’t leave him, and then he left you. I’m so sorry, Liam.’
Liam’s throat tightened and his eyes grew hot.
I will not turn into a watering pot in front of the bloody duchess!
‘The Queen sent for me. Even if Theo had survived the fever, I would have had to leave him.’ Shifting in his chair, Liam cleared his throat. He focused on the sound of the clock ticking, the ridges of carved wood beneath his hands, the leather boot pressing against his heel as he flexed his foot. He did not acknowledge the raw pain in his chest. ‘There’s no need for your condolences.’
Philippa sipped her tea. ‘There’s always need for comfort when we lose someone we love, Liam. Trust me.’
‘I hardly knew him.’
‘Time doesn’t equate to depth of feeling. Love is not ruled by such pedantic measures.’
