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She pushed at his chest, and he shifted, sitting up. She sat beside him, wiping angrily at her tears. Enough. It was time to end all subterfuge. For all their sakes. Where to start?
“I came daily to the folly when you were away. I could feel you here and would know in my heart you were still alive. I knew for certain that were you not well, here is where I would sense it.” She might as well start at the beginning. He took her hand in his, squeezing in encouragement.
“I was sitting on the steps here, dreaming of you, when Daniel asked me to marry him,” Catherine said.
He stiffened beside her.
“Oh, Nicholas, it was not like you’re thinking,” she said quickly before she could lose courage to continue. “None of it is like you think.
“Daniel didn’t want it nor did he deceive me by pretending he did. He shared with me his deep love for Laurence. I must confess I was not entirely caught off guard. Their affection for one another has always been clear for all to see.”
He grunted and shifted.
She ignored his discomfort. “Yes, even to you, if you would but put aside your personal hurt for a moment and think on it. It is not such a stretch to believe they loved as we do.”
“It is unnatural—”
She cut him off. She’d heard enough slander about Daniel and Laurence from his father, and she refused to allow Nicholas to become his father’s son. “Judge not lest ye be judged,” she said quietly.
He did not respond, but he still held her hand in his. That was good, was it not?
“Your father was pressuring Daniel to marry. He selected a fine girl, Isabella Whittington. I’ve met her. She is lovely, although I’m not sure she knew Lord Woodfield had handpicked her for his son. I think Daniel might have enjoyed her fine spirit.” She shook her head. She had thought this too many times. What if Daniel had just agreed to that marriage? Could he have found happiness? But was that not the same as asking her if she could have found happiness with a man other than Nicholas? Once love has been discovered, can it ever be forgotten?
“Daniel had had far too much to drink when your father last approached him and informed him he had made arrangements for Daniel to ask for Miss Whittington’s hand. Daniel erred gravely. He told your father of his love for Laurence. Told the earl he would never marry, that your father had best get used to it and resign himself to counting on you, Nicholas.
“Daniel knew that with me, he would not have to fulfill his husbandly duties. And the fact that he wasn’t acting as a true husband would never come to light. Still, I refused Daniel that first time. There was too much deceit in the whole concept, and I could not reason beyond my love for you.” She looked directly at Nicholas for the first time since beginning the sordid tale, twisting her hand so that she now held his. “I turned him down for love of you.” She raised his hand to her mouth, kissing it reverently. “I could not imagine a life without you by my side. Worse, I could not imagine watching you live your life by the side of someone else.”
He tried to pull her to his lap, but she resisted.
“No, Nicholas. This story does not continue as you think.” If he wished to hold her when all was revealed, then she would revel in his embrace. But she couldn’t continue the hurtful tale if he held her.
“Your father summoned me the next day. He asked if I knew that my brother was unnatural.”
Nicholas’s intake of breath soothed her resurging acrimony. He was nothing like his father.
“I did not dignify the question with a response. I was almost free of his lair when he declared that if I married Daniel, the world need not know what my brother was.”
Nicholas stilled beside her but said nothing.
“I was furious. How dare that man!” Her heart beat as though it was happening now. “I told him if the world knew of my brother, then it would know, too, of his son.”
“I offer you the position of Lady Woodfield. Marry Daniel, and I’ll not say a word.” The man’s heart had failed him but not his tongue. Wrapped in a blanket by the fire, he was as intimidating as he’d been in her youth. She’d always avoided him. But she refused to cower before him.
“I’ll not marry Daniel for a title, my lord.”
His nostrils flared, and his cheeks mottled with anger. “Name your price, gel, name your price.”
“There is nothing that can induce me to marry Daniel. You know fine why that is.” She turned once again to leave.
“Nicholas.” Woodfield’s voice was low, more a growl.
She spun around and faced him. “Yes, my lord, Nicholas. The son you seem to have forgotten. The man fighting for our country, believing his family is hale and healthy, the man anxious to return to it—” She paused, feeling triumphant. “—and to me, Lord Woodfield. I wait for him even if you do not.”
The old man’s face twisted, bitterness making his taciturn expression pinched. “I will expose both boys and ensure Nicholas is blocked from inheritance. I will leave him in penury while you watch the two deviants swing from ropes.” His smile was evil, victorious. She was afraid he would hold true to the threat. Dear Lord, what choice did she have?
Nicholas pulled her close, holding her tight to his chest. “Oh, Catherine. I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse as he stroked her hair. “You should not have been put in such a position.” He continued his caresses, brushing kisses across her crown.
She wanted to wallow in his empathy, to lie languid in his arms. He’d requested honesty. No half-truths. She was not yet done.
She pushed from the succor he offered. “There is more.”
