Page 50 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

“But you want to believe in me. I know you do.” Stratford wriggled forward until they sat just touching at the knees. “I want to believe in you too. You are my oldest friend.”

“We were never friends,” she reminded him.

“I’m not so bad. In fact, I think there are distinct advantages to our renewed acquaintance,” he promised.

“Such as?”

He spread his hands wide. “I am the easiest of men and extremely loyal.”

“Like a lap dog?”

“How about you sit on mine,” he suggested with a laugh that brought a blush to her cheeks. “I’m much too big for that tiny little lap of yours. I’d probably squash you.”

“Size isn’t all that matters,” she promised.

“To real men it is,” he promised with a wink. He inhaled deeply and brought her cold hand to his lips to kiss. “We have years of catching up to do, Win. Let’s start with how you came to be alone after we met.”

“My story begins earlier than that. I have to go back to the time before I was born,” she whispered and sighed. “My mother was desperate to give her husband the son he demanded she bear him.”

“I’ve never heard him speak of your mother with any kindness,” he confessed, and then he pointed to the portrait still sitting upon the easel. “I had intended to give him that painting. But I wonder if I should make the attempt now.”

“Why would you want to give him a present of my likeness after all this time?”

“Hmm,” Stratford said, and then cleared his throat. “Since we’re trading secrets, I suppose I must trust you with some truth, too. There’s been a bit of awkwardness since my father died and my brother took over the estate. Something we’re trying to hush up. My late father apparently owed yours a great deal of money, and now the repayment has become my brother’s cross to bear. Your father likely came here to collect the amount in full. I thought giving him that portrait might soften his heart a little.”

“I would say it would do the opposite,” she warned.

“Hmm, that is the conclusion I am fast reaching myself. Unfortunately, I had already mentioned the painting to my brothers before learning who you really were. They still intend to give it to him in the hopes he will not demand immediate repayment of those debts.”

“Oh,” she whispered, turning to look at it again. “Even then that boy had secrets. Especially from you.”

“I assume your mother was complicit in the decision to hide your gender, which is why your parents live separate lives now. She must have been destroyed to lose you.”

“It was my life that was destroyed. It was Mama’s decision entirely to pass me off as my father’s son,” she whispered. “Giving Father a reminder of my existence would not help with the debt. It will anger him. Mother had cruelly deceived him for years, after all. So had I, and he became enraged when he discovered the truth. Mama tried to flee with me, and then the accident happened. There is no telling what he might do or say if he knew I was still alive, but it would not soften his heart one little bit—if he has one anymore. You can’t let him know about me.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to.” Stratford shifted to her side and put his arm about her shoulders. The first time he’d ever done so. It felt…nice. She felt nicer to him by the moment. Even with her surly bossiness and habit of wearing trousers. He could now understand why she lived the way she did. “We will think of something else to manage the debt,” Stratford promised, and then glanced over to the painting. “It’s not my best work but I think I captured the essence of you.”

Win leaned her head against his shoulder. “When did you paint it?”

“After I came home from our visit. I was frustrated and…and I got lost remembering the expression on your face the last time I saw you.”

She laughed softly. “I remember. I must be honest. I had been relieved to see the back of you that day. It had grown increasingly difficult being around you. You asked so many questions, determined to know everything about me and my life. In any other circumstances, had I been anyone else, I might have been flattered. But I’d known the trouble you could have caused me if I let down my guard.” She shook her head. “I always thought my father murdered my mother for her deception.”

“Why did you think it murder?”

“He knew about me.” Win shook her head. “Mama said he was chasing after us. Urged the coachman to whip the horses to a faster pace to outrun him. But the carriage rocked so badly that it sent us right off a bridge. Father was there on the bank.”

Stratford’s eyes widened. “How did you not drown?”

“I could swim and only had to kick off my shoes and let the current take me wherever it cared to. I knew I couldn’t go back to him and expect kindness. He wanted me gone. Erased along with the lie of my life. But he didn’t end my life. He gave it to someone else.”

Stratford pulled her close and kissed her head, wishing he might settle the score with Aston over his treatment of Win. “You must have been terrified. Being all alone in the dark.”

She shrugged away his sympathy. “No worse than living a lie and expecting discovery at any moment.”

He expelled a heavy breath. “You’ll be safer with me. I want to help. I am your friend.”

She looked up at him. “You understand why I couldn’t be before, when we were younger.”