AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not only did she have no reason to lie about the connection, but now that Alaric knew of it he was able to look more closely at the situation. Admittedly, there was little facial likeness between the brother and sister, but they did both have the same unusual pale green eyes. Their dark hair also had that touch of red that turned their locks a rich chestnut color.
Lust, and Alaric’s desire to claim Grace for his own, had blinded him to that likeness.
Until now.
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before opening them again, knowing thatheowed Grace the truth. The whole truth. “The knowledge I have been seeking has nothing to do with your own relationship to Redding.”
A spark of interest broke through Grace’s veneer of coldness. “Oh?”
He nodded abruptly. “You already know of Plymouth’s death. What is not public knowledge is that we recently learned he was run through with the sword of an English officer, not a French one, during that last bloody battle. My friends and I have been searching for the murderer since we learned the truth. There were only five other English officers in the area that day. George Harper was one of them.”
Grace stared at him for several long and silent seconds as she appeared to process his words. “You and your friends are seeking Plymouth’s murderer?”
“Yes.”
“By ‘last bloody battle,’ you are referring to the Battle of Waterloo?”
“Yes.”
A weight seemed to lift off her slender shoulders. “George was not present at that battle.”
“He was.”
“No, he was not,” she insisted in a calm voice. “During the many conversations George and I have had this past year, it has been a source of deep regret for him that he was not there to witness Napoleon’s final defeat.”
Alaric didn’t doubt for a moment that Grace believed she was telling him the truth. Perhaps she was?
He frowned. “Redding was listed as being one of the officers present that day.”
“Obviously, I cannot confirm or deny what was recorded.” She shrugged. “I know that he wassupposedto be there, but that the evening before the battle, George received an urgent missive from London telling him that Lady Penelope had delivered a son, but it was uncertain as to whether mother and baby would survive beyond a day or two. Lady Penelope’s uncle was one of Wellington’s generals, and when he heard the news, he arranged for George to return to England immediately. Obviously, George was then, and continues to be, elated that Lady Penelope survived after all, as did their young son. But that gladness does not eliminate the regret he also feels at having missed that final battle.” She raised a brow. “Perhaps, in all the confusion of that day, George’s absence was not written down?”
It was a possibility that was exactly what had happened, Alaric acknowledged with a sinking heart. The fighting had been intense that day. The air filled with smoke from the many guns being fired, cannon as well as rifles, along with a melee of shouting and orders from the soldiers from both sides. It was quite possible that amongst that chaos, Redding’s absence had not been officially noted.
Which meant that for the past two weeks, Alaric had been investigating a man who had not even been in the same country when Plymouth was killed, let alone on the battlefield with him.
Not only had Alaric been wrong about Redding’s involvement in Plymouth’s death, but he had treated Grace abysmally in the process of that investigation.
So much so, Alaric doubted she would ever forgive him.
Grace refused to allow her heart to soften toward Alaric just because of the regret she could now see in his expression. Regrets were all well and good, but they did not excuse how disgracefully he had behaved toward her this past week.
How every kiss, every caress, every release Alaric had given her had only been fueled by his need for knowledge as to whether George had killed his friend.
“Why did no one ever know of the Earl of Redding’s bastard?”
Grace drew in a sharp breath at the bluntness of those words. “Because I am not his child.”
“But that must mean…” Alaric’s eyes widened. “Redding’s mother was alsoyourmother?”
“Yes,” she confirmed woodenly. “In fact, she died shortly after giving birth to me after months of exile at the Redding estate in Devon.”
“Which is why her son was anxious to return to England when he learned that his own wife might meet the same fate,” Alaric realized.
She nodded. “George only learned of the way in which his mother had died after the death of his father eighteen months ago. The previous earl had refused to talk about his wife for years, nor did he discuss her death with his son,” she said sadly. “George learned the truth of the situation when he and the family lawyer went through his father’s papers after the funeral. The earl kept a journal of his movements. In it, he had written about his visit to Devon twenty years ago, after the death of his wife. George found his mother’s private letters too, the ones sent from her lover before he was killed during the uprising in France. He also found a gold necklace, which his mother had left instructions was to be given to her daughter. In it, there is a likeness of her lover as well as herself.” Grace’s hand moved instinctively to the locket about her throat. “Out of bitterness, or unhappiness, the previous earl did not fulfill the last wishes of his wife.”
“But George did.”
“Yes.” Tears stung her eyes as she recalled that first emotional meeting with the man who had told her she was his half sister. “Once George learned his mother had given birth to a daughter before her death, he arranged for his family to visit Devon the Christmas before last. During that time, he made enquiries about his mother’s visit there twenty years ago. Having learned what had happened to his half sister, he then sought me out and explained the situation.”
