Sandra Owens Page 3

  “Diana—”

  “Lady Brantley.”

  She wasn’t going to make it easy for him and he couldn’t blame her, but he refused to call her Lady Brantley. “My lady, I have come to take you and your son home.”

  “Home?” She gave a harsh laugh. “Where would that be, my lord?”

  He looked into eyes the color of chocolate and braced himself for her reaction. “For now, Wyburne.”

  A barely discernible tightening of her jaw was the only response. Well, what had he expected? For her face to light up at the mention of his lodge? He once offered to take her to Italy or Greece, or any place she wished for their wedding trip. She chose Wyburne. Surprised, he had asked her why, of all the places to pick from, she wanted to go to his hunting lodge. She had given him a seductive smile and told him it was the only place where she could have him all to herself. He remembered thinking at the time how very much he loved her.

  She shook head. “No, I am not going anywhere with you.”

  He glanced at the stream where she had been trying to wash clothes. Upon arrival, he had knocked on the door and receiving no answer, had opened it and looked around. She and James were living in a one-room cottage, if one could even call it that, with the barest of furniture.

  The only food to be found consisted of a few potatoes, four eggs, a small bag of flour and a half loaf of bread that felt, when he poked a finger at it, several days old. He supposed the eggs came from the four chickens running around the yard and the potatoes from her poor excuse for a garden.

  “You and your son won’t survive the winter. If not for yourself, at least for his sake, listen to reason.”

  ****

  Diana took a step back. What had she been thinking to attack him? He had just stood and let her beat on him. If it had been Leo, the punishment for her behavior would have been severe. But Michael, no, Lord Daventry… Heaven help her, she no longer knew what to call him. There were too many beautiful memories she held deep in her heart to even think of him formally, but Michael belonged to another life, one lost forever. Daventry, just Daventry.

  She darted a glance at his eyes looking for signs of anger, then to his hands expecting to see them fisted. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his body relaxed, his look nothing but kind. The young lord she’d given her heart to had grown into a striking man.

  But in the brief moment she’d glanced at him, she had noted changes. His eyes, so dark a blue they were almost the color of ink, had lost their soft warmth, and his black hair was lightly dusted with silver on the sides. Gone was the boyish smoothness of his face, and now tiny lines framed the corners of his eyes. His body had filled out, too, his shoulders broader than she remembered. Power flowed from him, power far greater than Leo’s. That frightened her. This man could knock her across a room with a mere flick of his wrist.

  “I only wish to see you and James are cared for,” he said softly. “Listen. The two of you are already half starved and winter will arrive soon. How will you care for him then?”

  She would find a way to feed her son. “I won’t go with you.”

  He sighed. “This is not how I wished it, but you give me no choice. You and the boy are coming with me to Wyburne. If I must, I will carry you to my carriage and put you in it.”

  Fear crawled down her spine. “You would not dare.”

  “I would dare much for you, Diana. Which will it be? Will you come willingly or must I force you?”

  Terror held her in place. Eleven years was a long time, more than enough for him to have changed. The man she had once loved had always looked at her with soft, warm eyes. This man with his cold, determined eyes, she no longer knew. Had he become like Leo? Would he force his will on her and beat her if she failed to obey? She eyed the distance to the road. Could she make it past him and to the cottage before he caught her? Surely, he would not hurt her in front of Jamie.

  Her husband had taught her to see the threat of danger by watching for the rage that could burn in a man’s eyes. She forced herself to look at Daventry again, wanting to know what message he was sending. His legs were braced apart, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture one of arrogance and authority. But the rage she expected to see was absent; the only expression she could discern was one of a man patiently awaiting an answer to his question.

  He confused her.

  She gathered her courage and made to move past him, preparing to run if necessary. He didn’t try to stop her, only fell into step beside her. Unsettled by his nearness, she sidestepped to put distance between them, relieved when he didn’t try to close the space she had created.

  “Will you come willingly, Diana?”

  There was gentleness in his deep voice, but she wasn’t fooled. Both he and his cousin had taught her a man could not be trusted. “I have given you my answer, my lord. And it is Lady Brantley.”

  ****

  Michael swallowed his fury. If he allowed her to see his anger, she would mistake its source. Leo was bloody fortunate he was dead. Putting calm reason into his voice, he said, “I cannot accept your answer, my lady. I will not leave you and the boy here to die.”

  He had no trouble matching her long strides. She was almost running, and if her aim was to flee, she would soon learn he had caught her, though it had regretfully taken him eleven years to do so. Where the devil had that thought come from? His purpose in finding her wasn’t to reignite long burnt out flames. If it wasn’t for the boy, he wouldn’t be here.

  They arrived at the cottage. She rushed inside and tried to close the door. Ah, Diana, you will not win this battle. The door bounced open and she stared down at the foot he had placed against the frame. Moving slowly, he walked past her. James came to stand beside his mother, and Michael stifled his smile when he saw the knife the boy held.

  Michael extended his arms, his palms up. “I’m not here to hurt you or your mother, James. My only intention is to see the two of you are taken care of.” How the hell did one go about proving to these two he would never hurt them, that he would rather die than harm a boy who might be his son or the mother of that child?

  “You are a cheat and a liar, sir. My father said you were not to be trusted. If you don’t leave us alone, I will use this knife. Do not think I won’t, sir.”

  Well, at least his small, would-be assassin was polite, but Michael was quickly tiring of the accusations. How long was it going to take him to earn their trust? First things first, however. He needed to convince them to leave with him. Would the boy’s protectiveness extend to doing what was best for his mother? No time like the present to find out. He walked to the table and picked up a potato. “Is this your dinner tonight?”

  Diana glared at him. “I don’t think that is of any concern to you, my lord.”

  He kept his gaze on the lad. This was a conversation between him and James. Although Michael regretted excluding her, he and the boy needed to agree they both wanted what was best for her. Still holding out the potato, he waited. Finally, James gave a sullen nod. Michael placed the potato back on the table and picked up another one.

  “This is tomorrow night’s dinner?”

  Another nod, this one displaying an air of defeat.

  Michael pulled out a chair. “Please sit, and for your mother’s sake, listen to what I have to say.”

  Diana put her hand on James’ shoulder. “Jamie, go outside. I need to talk to Lord Daventry.”

  He shared a look with James. What Michael understood and she didn’t was that even at ten years of age, James believed it was the responsibility of a man to take care of the women in his life, be it wife, sister or mother. The boy had been the man of the house for a year now, forced to grow up too fast, but his mother treated him like the child he was. Michael could see James resented it.

  “You may keep the knife, and if you feel threatened in any way, or if you fear for your mother’s safety, you are free to use it.” Michael allowed a small smile of amusement to form on his face. He couldn’t allow James to belie
ve he had the upper hand. “Of course, I will likely take it away before you do any damage, but you might get a lucky poke or two in.”

  “Jamie, go outside.”

  The boy looked from his mother to Michael. Michael shrugged, letting him know it was his decision. James approached the table and moved the chair further away before sitting. He gripped the handle of the knife, pointing the blade toward Michael.

  “I will listen to you, sir, and then you will leave.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Diana stepped forward. “My lord, if you have something to say, say it to me. Do not involve my son.”

  Michael had pointedly not looked at her during his battle of wills with James, but did so now. Her eyes showed a spark of fire, the first she had displayed since he had approached her at the stream. It pleased him to see it. It gave him hope that the Diana he had once known was there, even if buried deep.

  He pulled out the only other chair and gestured to it. “Please sit and listen if you wish, my lady, but he is old enough to have a say in this decision.”

  At his words, James sat up straighter, giving Michael his attention. Michael waited to see what Diana would do. The fire faded from her eyes. She turned away, went to the window and stared out. He had the urge to go to her and comfort her, but she wouldn’t welcome him.

  He turned his attention to James. “Please listen to what I have to say before you refuse my offer.” The boy hesitated before nodding. Michael noticed James had lowered the knife to his lap.

  “Thank you. I want to take you and your mother to my hunting lodge. I have an abundance of food there and plenty of wood to burn for warmth. If the two of you stay here, you will not survive the coming winter. Is that what you want for your mother?”

  “No, sir, but how do we know we can trust you? Father said you were a bad man. Father said that a long time ago, you hurt Mama and you would again if we let you.”

  Leo had better be slowly burning in hell. How did he convince a boy who had been taught Michael was the Devil incarnate that he could be trusted? He glanced at Diana and though she was pretending to ignore them, he knew she was listening closely. His next words might very well be the most important he would ever speak.

  “I am not a bad man, James, but what you were told is true. I did once hurt your mother.”

  The knife was pointed at him again.

  “I didn’t physically hurt her, and by that I mean I have never struck her and would never think to do so. But there are ways to hurt someone we love without using physical violence.” He watched Diana from the corner of his eye. Did she understand he was now speaking to her? “I was a young fool and didn’t trust your mother when I should have. It is a regret I will live with for the rest of my life.”

  James scrunched his eyebrows together. “Why didn’t you trust her?”

  “As I said, I was a fool and made a stupid mistake.” Michael stole another glance at Diana. She had her back to him, but she brought a hand up to her face and wiped away tears. He gripped the edge of the table.

  “What did you do, sir? Mama would never hurt anyone.”

  “I know, but as to what happened, that is between me and your mother. The decision we have to make today is how we are going to take care of her. If you were a few years older, you would be able to provide for her, but you are not quite there and could use a little help. I am offering my assistance if you will accept it.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as you wish it. Our first priority, of course, is adequate food and a decent place to live.” He surveyed the room. “I imagine it was difficult last winter to keep warm?” One day, he would ask her how Leo managed to deposit her in the middle of nowhere.

  James gave a vigorous nod. “We had to wear all our clothes and sleep near the fire.”

  Slept near the fire and, judging by how the clothes hung on his bone-thin frame, likely clutching his hungry belly. Michael kept his face bland. Never had his control been tested so sorely. He would feel a lot better if he could put his fist through the wall.

  “Did you have enough food?”

  “No, sir.”

  “James, you have two options here. The first is to stay and hope you and your mother can make it through the winter. The second is to accept my offer and know your survival is assured. I give you my word that I will keep you both safe.”

  Both hope and uncertainty shone in the eyes so like his. It was still difficult to comprehend James might be his son. He didn’t feel love for the boy, but he did feel a great liking. If this child was his, Michael had missed the first ten years of his life. Missed important things like witnessing a son’s first steps, first word, the first time he said “Papa.” Michael rubbed his chest, the place over his heart.

  “How do we know we can trust you to keep your word, sir? Father said you were not a man of honor.”

  If he heard one more father said, he might lose his battle to control his rage and pound a hole in the wall while picturing his cousin’s face. “Trust has to be earned, James. And though I have yet to earn yours, unless you have a better idea, I don’t think you have a choice but to believe me just a little.”

  James pushed his hand through his hair, hair a color halfway between Diana’s honey-colored and Michael’s almost black. But the boy’s midnight blue eyes were identical to his and Michael saw his own features in the young face lined with weary resignation. He wanted to believe this boy was his son.

  “We will come with you, sir.” He looked at the knife in his hand. “But I’m keeping this and if you are lying, I promise I will make you sorry for it.”

  Michael bit down on his cheek to keep from smiling and held out his hand. “Then we understand each other.” He clasped his hand around the small, boney one and silently swore that before a month passed, there would be some meat on the boy’s thin frame.

  Now to get this settled with Diana.

  Chapter Three

  Diana kept her back turned, staring unseeingly out the window. She didn’t want them—especially Daventry—to see the tears that fell down her cheeks. He had freely admitted he had made a mistake. Leo would have never admitted he was wrong about anything. But Daventry’s words no longer mattered. They came far too late. Then why the tears if it no longer matters? Wiping her face with her sleeve, she composed herself and then turned.

  He was so very clever to treat Jamie as an equal, and now the two had a man-to-man agreement that they would take care of her. Well, she wasn’t having it. “I will say this for the last time, my lord. My son and I are not coming with you.”

  Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but his lordship gave a slight shake of his head. He stood and gave Jamie’s shoulder a light touch before coming to stand in front of her. He was too close, but she forced herself not to retreat. He was tall and muscled, more so than Leo, and if he used his fists on her, she wouldn’t have the strength to stop him. He had told Jamie he would never strike her, but men lied.

  “My lady, you must think of your son.”

  He said it too quietly for Jamie to hear. So this was his strategy. By placing the responsibility for her welfare on Jamie’s shoulders and his on hers, how could either of them refuse him? He had set himself up as their savior and she resented him for it because he was right. It had taken all of her will to keep the two of them alive through the last winter, and she wasn’t sure she could do it again.

  “If you were to fall sick, Diana, how would he manage?”

  She begrudged his calm reason, but a chill invaded her heart at the truth of his words. What would happen to Jamie if she fell ill? Defeated, her shoulders slumped. For her son, she would swallow her pride and conquer her fear. “I will just go down to the stream and collect our clothes.”

  He touched her arm. “James can do that for you.”

  She jerked away from his hand. “No, I will do it while he decides what to take with him.”

  She needed a few minutes alone to regain her composure and steel herself for whatever p
unishments awaited her. It was possible she wasn’t being fair to Daventry, that he would never beat her. She had once dared to claim such to Leo. Her husband had laughed and said she didn’t know his cousin like he did, that had she married Daventry, she would have learned otherwise. At the time, she hadn’t believed it. Over the years, as the recipient of Leo’s “lessons” she had learned to trust no one.

  ****

  Michael waited until Diana left before turning to James. “Unless it is something that has meaning to you, don’t bother with anything else. We will take care of clothing and such when we arrive at Wyburne.”

  The boy nodded and went to a small chest in the corner. Michael was drained. He had managed to get their agreement without physically throwing them into the carriage. And though she had to know it was her only choice, Diana obviously resented him for it. Would it help or damage what little ground he had gained when she read Leo’s letter? He feared the latter. How would she react upon learning she was innocent of the accusations made against her?

  Finding her in bed with Leo that night had stolen his reason. All he could think at the time was that she had betrayed him. He had ordered everyone out of his house, then left minutes later. If he hadn’t been so wounded and full of pride, he would have seen the truth. The stupidity of youth. How did one atone for being the greatest fool in the kingdom at the age of five and twenty?

  From the moment he first set eyes on Diana he had known she was for him. He had only planned to spend an hour at the ball before meeting up with friends at a gaming hell.

  And then, there she was. Of their own accord his feet moved toward her. Her silk gown was the same honey shade as her hair. What color were her eyes? He had to know. When he was close enough to see, he remembered sighing. They were dark brown, the color of rich chocolate. He loved chocolate.