Page 83 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
“Consuela had not seen him in a few years, and she did not know what he’d become. He had hardened in the company of rougher men. He drank very much, all the time, and one night, he...” She took a deep breath. “She tried to stop him. He beat her very badly.”
He forced his eyes to stay open, to see what it cost her to tell him this.
“He beat his sister almost unconscious, and when my mother intervened, he threatened her. I surrendered. I had to make him stop. It was the only power I had.”
She spoke matter-of-factly, as if she had rehearsed the words. They were laced with a suppressed emotion he could not identify, but that told him she was telling the truth.
“I was a virgin, but I gave myself so he would not hurt them. I was not strong enough to resist...He was not drunk enough for me to be able to stop him.” She shook her head. “I lived on ships. I saw men fight. I’d seen men flogged. I’d never seen such brutality as his. He carried me off, and I was captive for three days. I did try to escape. To fight, I...” She drew in a shallow breath. “He thought I should come to enjoy what he did, and when I didn’t, I couldn’t, he…he said if I would act like a dumb cow he would mark me like one.”
Blood roared in his ears. He would take the next ship and hunt down this beast. He would torture him first, and then kill him. “He is a dead man.”
Pain swam in her eyes, rolled down her cheeks. “Yes. He is.”
Charley’s mouth went dry. “Oh, my love. You killed him?”
“No, not I.” She choked. “I was weak. Weak, Charley. I could not...” She inhaled a long breath. “I could barely walk from his attacks. When he showed me the iron, I tried to resist. I threatened him with my father’s wrath. I told him my father would kill him, and he said we would be married by then, and he would have my dowry, and my child, and my father would learn to accept it. It was the way things were done when a bride was reluctant. He said Papa would never know the rest, unless I was the one to tell him, and if I did I would not live long past my first-born son. He said he would go back and kill Consuela, and Mama also.”
Tears seeped from beneath her lashes. “He said many horrible things. But they tracked us and found us first. The scar is bad, but it could have been so much worse. Mama got to me just as he touched the hot iron to me. She shot him, but he got up. Consuela knocked him down with a shovel, and then she hit him, again and again, until he didn’t get up.” She gulped in a breath. “Her own brother. Her own brother, Charley. Oh, how her heart hurt. It is all tied together in my memory: my body on fire, the shot, the crack of his skull.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing the picture—two women and a sick child fighting a monster.
When he opened his eyes, Gracie was watching him.
“I’m so sorry, my love.”
She let out a long breath. “They heaved his body into anarroyo. Then they tied me onto a cart and found a village. A padre there helped us. They told everyone I had a fever—which by that time was true—and they must keep away. We stayed there until I was well, and then we stayed longer, and when Reina was born, we said she was Consuela’s child.”
She braced a hand on the chair arm, preparing to stand.
“Wait,” he said. “Wait.” He pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “I’m glad that you told me. She’s a beautiful child.” She would behisbeautiful child, as soon as they married.
“I do not look at her and see Rigo. I see Consuela. I cannot toss her away. I will never toss her away, not for any husband or any guardian.”
“No. She’ll be with you always. It is good Consuela’s family showed no interest.”
“It was Papa’s idea to contact them. He...wrote letters.”
“Which did not arrive?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “I made sure they would not.”
“So, he doesn’t know the truth?”
She went so still, her breath stopping, he wanted to press his mouth to hers and breathe for her. He swept a thumb down her cheek.
“I never told him. And if he truly is dead...there has been enough of lying and enough of secrets. Everyone who knew died. Not even Francisca knows. No one knows but you.”
His heart pounded. She had trustedhimwith her darkest—and her brightest?secret. But why, if her plan was to break their engagement and cast him off?
He must cease with this business of feeling andthink.
She squirmed in his lap. “And so you see, I am what you English callverydamaged goods. Not a suitable wife for even the younger son of an earl.”
Thinking was almost out of the question with her backside twitching against him, making him want to touch her more.
“Please. Sit still a moment.”
She jumped off his lap and faced him, wringing her hands at her waist. “There is another reason you will not want to marry me,” she said. “I am not a-a good lover. I could not respond. I could not pretend. And I had a thorough education in those three days. I know the English don’t expect a wife…well, that is why the husband keeps a mistress, but…” Tears filled her eyes again and her voice trailed off.
