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‘No, not unless you wish to, and I will ask Jessica not to say anything. She is very discreet.’ Maude hesitated. He was not pouring out his confidences, but on the other hand, he had not rebuffed her. ‘How did you discover the connection?’
‘When we were packing to come to England, I found some papers that made me suspect. I have not challenged Madame on the subject. It would not be worth the effort—she always refuses to discuss the past. I do not think the resemblance is such that it is immediately obvious.’
‘No, it is something about the way you move, the way you hold yourself, I think. I know them very well, so perhaps it is more obvious to me.’ Still he did not react, yet Maude had the feeling she was walking on eggshells.
‘Would you not like some family?’ she persisted.
‘You think they would acknowledge me? I think not. Besides, the question is irrelevant. Unless Madame wishes to make known her identity, I cannot speak of it.’
‘Oh. I had not thought of that.’ Maude fell silent, brooding on this latest complication. They were almost in Mount Street. ‘Do you dance?’
Eden reined in the pair at her front door. ‘Do I dance? There are times, Maude, when I find yourself baffled by the workings of your mind. How do we get from my parentage to dancing?’
‘We do not. But there is no point in pursuing a topic of conversation you are obviously unwilling to discuss and I want to know whether you will dance with me at Lady Hethersett’s ball.’
‘Yes, I dance. And, yes, it will be a pleasure to dance with you at the ball, Maude.’ The front door opened and a footman appeared. Eden glanced at him and added, his voice lower, ‘But do not try to extend your campaign to make me admit the existence of love to a scheme to have me embrace all my family—they would not thank you for introducing a theatrical bastard to their fireside, believe me.’
‘They already acknowledge you for what you are, not where you came from,’ Maude said. ‘The Ravenhursts—the ones who are my friends—are more open minded than perhaps you believe.’ He made no response, and besides, James was already coming round to help her down. This was not the time to pursue it. ‘Thank you, Eden, I enjoyed my drive.’
Chapter Fourteen
The bays fidgeted, testing his control as though his own tension was reaching them. Eden turned them towards Hyde Park. It would be relatively free of crowds now and he could work out the horses’ fidgets and his own unsettled thoughts in privacy.
He had come back to England, settled into the fringes of society, confident that the secrets of his birth would remain just that. Secret. Lady Margery Ravenhurst had fled the family home at the tender age of nineteen—it was safe to believe that none of her family would recognise her now, a woman in her mid-forties.
Discreet observation of the myriad Ravenhurst clan had convinced him that with his Italian looks he had no reason to fear exposure either. Frowning, he realised how betraying that word was. There was nothing to fear from the Ravenhursts, not in the material sense. And yet it would hurt his pride, he realised, if there was the slightest suspicion that he was courting acceptance, presuming on the connection.
Eden swung the team in through the gates and let them extend their trot across the scuffed tan surface. Trust Maude to see a likeness that he was not even aware of himself. But then Maude looked deeper into him than anyone else ever had. She thought, bless her, that there was something about him worth humanising, worth teaching to love.
And he let himself be seduced and weakened by her friendship, her concern, just as he was constantly tormented by desire for her. She saw him as a crippled being to be rescued, taught love, sent out again into the world like a bird with a mended broken wing. But she assumed he wanted to feel love, that he was capable of it. Love was something you were born into, grew up with, surely? Not something you could learn.
The leader broke into a canter and was ruthlessly brought back to a trot. If he could control nothing else today, he could damn well control his horses. What would it be like to belong to a family like the Ravenhursts? So many of them and yet such a tight-knit clan, gathering in new members by friendship or marriage. It would be suffocating, he told himself. And weakening. And yet seductively warm.
Warm, like Maude. But Maude was special and he was not, he was all too bitterly aware, worthy of a woman like that. He could only hurt her, they were so different and he so scarred. He should send her money back, end their partnership, he knew that, but still he wanted to hold out cold hands to the glow of her smile and her honesty and her concern. Just for a little while longer.
‘Papa? Are you ready?’ Maude put her head around the door of her father’s study, surprised not to find him waiting in the hall, foot tapping, one eye on the clock.
The earl was sitting at his desk, a letter in his hand, staring at the fire. Maude pushed the door wider and he looked up. ‘Sorry, my love. Did you say something?’
‘I asked if you are ready to go to Lady Hethersett’s, Papa.’ Maude went up to the desk, anxious. ‘Are you unwell?’ He looked uncharacteristically melancholy and suddenly, frighteningly, older.
‘Unwell? No, my dear. Just rather…sad. That friend of your mother’s—you recall I told you she was ill? Well, now it seems she has died.’ He sighed, folding the heavy sheets of paper under his hands. Maude looked down at them, seeing for the first time how prominent the veins were becoming, noticing the age spots, and placed one of hers over his.
‘I’m so sorry, Papa. Let me go upstairs and change and we’ll spend a quiet evening together.’
‘What! Nonsense, you’ll do no such thing. It’s years since I saw her, we never corresponded more than a note at the turn of the year. No, I’m just a little melancholy, thinking of times long past, that’s all.’
Thinking of Mama, Maude thought, squeezing his hand. ‘Yes, but I will—’
‘No. You run along and enjoy yourself. I am going to go to the club, I’m not good company this evening, but I’m quite all right.’ He beetled his heavy eyebrows at her. ‘And I don’t want you sitting at home when you could be out there snaring that highly eligible son-in-law for me. You give my apologies to Henrietta Hethersett now.’
‘If you are certain, Papa,’ Maude dropped a kiss on his cheek. ‘But I’m not promising a highly eligible son-in-law, I’m afraid.’ Her conscience gave a painful twinge at the thought of just how ineligible the man of her dreams was.
‘You’re a good girl. Just go and find a good man—I only want you to be happy, Maude.’
Papa really meant it, she knew he did, Maude thought as she climbed, alone, into the carriage. But could he possibly conceive just who it might take to make her happy?
‘All by yourself, child?’ Lady Hethersett tut-tutted indulgently as Maude reached the head of the receiving line.
