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‘What do you mean?’
‘He won’t even acknowledge his own son!’
Aunt Sophoria tilted her head to one side quizzically. ‘But he’s not his son, dear. Who on earth told you that?’
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’
‘It’s obvious that they’re related, but not like that. They both take after their father, that’s all.’
‘Their father?’
‘Yes, dear, they’re half-brothers.’
‘Brothers?’ Ianthe’s mouth dropped open. ‘How do you know?’
‘Oh, there were always rumours. Old Theakston wasn’t known for being discreet. Matthew’s mother was another poor housemaid. She came to Pickering after she was dismissed, but she fell ill when the boy was still young. I’ve no idea how your Robert found out about it, but he just turned up one day with a doctor. From what I gather, she asked him to take the boy if anything happened to her.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’
‘You said he’d mentioned his ward. I assumed he’d told you the rest. Though I’d no idea they looked so similar. It’s quite incredible really.’
Ianthe felt the knot of guilt in her stomach tighten painfully. She hadn’t believed Robert when he’d denied that the boy was his son. She’d wronged him instead, condemning him as a hypocrite when in fact the very opposite was true. He was prepared to let most people think the worst just to keep his promise to a dying woman.
‘I thought respectability was the most important thing to him,’ she murmured.
‘If it was, I don’t suppose he’d keep the boy so close. Most people will think the same thing as you did. Understandably, I might add.’
Ianthe sat back on her heels, trying to adjust her version of reality. She ought to be pleased. If respectability wasn’t so important to Robert after all, then maybe there was a chance she could tell him the truth about her past and he might forgive her. Except that now her deceit seemed even worse in comparison to his honourable behaviour.
‘He doesn’t care for me, Aunt.’ She shook her head stubbornly. ‘He says he’s not capable of love.’
Aunt Sophoria looked thoughtful. ‘If he took after his father then I’d agree that might be the case, but from what I’ve seen, he’s only inherited the looks. The more important question is, do you care for him?’
Ianthe bit her lip, unable at that moment to frame an answer. Did she care for him? She shouldn’t. It was madness to even consider it. And yet, after their kiss on the beach, her emotions were so tangled that she couldn’t deny it either. But how could she open up her heart and risk being hurt again, especially with a man who’d openly said he couldn’t love her? And even if he could, he was already damaged enough. She couldn’t risk hurting him any more. If she truly cared for him, she’d have to tell him about Albert—then see the horror on his face when he realised the sort of woman he’d married.
No. She couldn’t bear the thought of it. She had to bury her feelings, whatever they were, before it was too late. She couldn’t risk that kind of pain for either of them. They had to keep to the terms of the original agreement for their own good. Even if she wasn’t sure that she could...
She forced her features into a smile as Robert and Matthew emerged from the water at last, running up the beach and throwing themselves in the sand at their feet.
‘You look like a pair of wet dogs.’ Aunt Sophoria chuckled.
‘Hungry ones, too.’ Robert grinned. ‘So what do we have to eat?’
Ianthe peered into the hamper, listing each sandwich in turn. ‘Beef and Worcestershire sauce, chicken and celery, cress and cucumber, ginger preserve, cheese...’
‘Beef, please.’
‘There are some pies, too. As well as crackers and sardines, cold salmon, grapes and a strawberry tart each. We’re not going to starve.’
‘Perfect.’ Robert propped himself on one elbow with a contented sigh.
‘Aren’t you going to get dressed?’ She threw a swift glance towards him, trying not to be distracted by the way his swimming costume was clinging to his muscular torso.
‘Not yet. It’s too hot for layers. Your aunt doesn’t mind, do you, Miss Gibbs?’
‘Not at all. You provide quite a charming vista, if I might say so.’
‘Aunt!’
