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‘What?’ She gaped at him, too shocked even to fight.
‘We loved each other.’
‘Liar! She loved my father!’
‘The artist?’ Sir Charles’s voice positively dripped with contempt. ‘She only thought so at first. By the time she came to her senses it was too late. She wanted me. We wanted each other. All these years, we only wanted each other.’
‘No!’ Ianthe gasped in horror, refusing to believe it. It couldn’t be true. If it was, then her whole life was based on a lie. It wasn’t true! She wouldn’t believe it. ‘You were friends with my father!’
‘Like with your brother, you mean?’
‘But...’ She shook her head, unable to comprehend such duplicity. ‘I don’t understand. Why would you pretend to like them?’
‘To see her.’ His gaze softened for a moment, as if he were looking inwards, before focusing intently again upon her. ‘And you.’
‘Me?’
‘If it hadn’t been for you, this last year would have destroyed me. When I lost her, I felt as though I’d lost a part of myself, too. That’s why I went abroad, to try to find some peace, but I couldn’t.’
Even despite their situation, she felt a flicker of sympathy. ‘I understand. I’ve been grieving, too, but she’s gone.’
‘Not completely.’ He coiled an arm around her waist, pulling her against him so tightly that she could hardly breathe. ‘There’s still a part of her left.’
‘No!’ Her eyes widened in horror as she realised what he meant. ‘I’m not her! I can’t replace her!’
‘You’re close enough. And now that she’s gone, there’s only you.’
He gave a twisted smile as his lips fell upon hers, plundering her mouth with a ferocity that made her cry out in pain.
‘Let me go!’ She flung her face to one side, spitting into the dirt.
‘You can make it right, Ianthe.’ He grabbed the back of her neck, panting against her ear as he twisted her head back towards him. ‘You can fix her mistake.’
‘Never!’
With a burst of rage, she brought her knee up and kicked him hard in the groin, wrenching herself free as he dropped to the ground with a grunt of pain.
Quickly, she seized the advantage, half-scrambling, half-vaulting over a pile of boulders, skidding on the grass as she bolted headlong back towards the path. For a horrible moment, she felt her shawl snag on the stone, but she let it go, hurtling breathlessly towards the safety of the houses.
He was mad!
She didn’t stop running when she reached the street, charging on past the houses, heedless of her appearance, trying to shake off the horror of what had just happened. The truth was more appalling than she’d imagined. So that was the reason Sir Charles never saw any difference in her appearance—because he wasn’t seeing her at all! Whatever crazed obsession he’d felt for her mother he’d simply transferred on to her! That was the whole reason he wanted her—why he watched her, why he seemed unable to take no for an answer. As for her mother’s feelings for him...she couldn’t think about those just yet. Right now she felt as though her whole world were spinning off its axis. She had to get back to the safety of her aunt’s house and hide.
For how long?
She reached the top of the Market Place and skidded to a halt. How long could she hide there? She couldn’t expect Aunt Sophoria to let her stay for ever. Her aunt had a small enough income without supporting her as well. But what else could she do? Where could she go? She had the unnerving suspicion that Sir Charles would follow her wherever she went. After thirty years of pining after her mother, it seemed unlikely that he’d simply give up now. She couldn’t even rely on Percy not to tell him where she was. If she really wanted to escape, then she’d have to break with him, too, and she couldn’t do that. Even if he had threatened to disown her, he was still her brother.
No, she realised, if she couldn’t fight or hide, then there was only one thing she could do. She could take refuge in plain sight, where Sir Charles could see, but surely wouldn’t dare to touch her. She didn’t have a choice any longer—had to grasp the only lifeline she had left.
Rightly or wrongly, she had to find Robert and accept him.
r /> Chapter Eight
Robert drummed his fingers on the tabletop, willing the meeting to end. The members of the Railway Board were being particularly long-winded this morning, even more so than usual. At that moment, the possibility of a branch line to Scarborough occupied less of his mind than trying to think up a half-decent excuse to escape.
He threw an impatient glance at the clock. Still an hour until noon. What would Ianthe’s answer be? he wondered. He didn’t know what to expect. He couldn’t even guess how she would look today, let alone what she might say. But if she said yes...
His lips curved in a half-smile. If she said yes, then he could start drawing up plans for expanding the shipyard tomorrow. Harper was prepared to sell—his sources had already confirmed that—and he could offer a better price than any of his competitors. Once he had a respectable bride to show him as well, there’d be no reason for the old man to say no. The sale could go through in a matter of months.
