Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,98

his. It was filled with wonder and disbelief. ‘But this is...’ She looked at it again.

‘From your father. It was he who consigned you to the earl’s care, in payment for some earlier favour. I am assuming our marriage was what was promised.’

‘Oh,’ she said, her whisper husky, her eyes still fixed on the words. The paper trembled in her fingers. ‘Oh.’

Tears tracked down her cheeks.

He’d made her cry. He’d thought she might be interested. Or even pleased. Tears he had not expected. He wanted to hit something. Better that than giving way to the pain at the sight of her anguish.

He got up slowly, afraid he might make things worse. ‘Mary,’ he whispered. He came around the desk to her side, put a comforting hand on her shoulder and was glad when she didn’t pull away. He dropped to his knees, put his head close to hers. ‘Mary, please. I would not have shown you this if I thought it would upset you.’

She swallowed and choked on an apologetic laugh. ‘You don’t understand. I’m not upset.’

With her shoulders hunched and one hand covering her eyes, she looked the very picture of misery. ‘You are crying.’

She raised her head and her watery gaze met his. ‘Don’t you see what this means?’

‘Your father undertook some sort of service for the old earl and this letter calls the favour in.’

She shook her head. ‘No. I mean, yes, that is what is says. But it also says he loved me. He says my beloved daughter. In his last moments in this life, he thought of me, his beloved daughter.’

He frowned. ‘Of course he did. You were his child.’

A tremble quaked her body. ‘I didn’t know. I understood he had sent me away when my mother died. That he didn’t want me. To know that I was loved...’ Her voice cracked and broke. She buried her face in her hands.

Bane remembered all the hugs and sweet kisses on his brow from his mother when he was young and swallowed the hot hard lump in his throat. He’d known without even thinking about it that he was loved. He’d known love in its purest form, even if he had lost it too soon. For years, he had shut himself off from its memory. Built walls of cold anger to keep the guilt at bay. The guilt for his part in his mother’s death. Now those walls were shattered, leaving him with his memories and vulnerable to her hurt.

‘Mary,’ he whispered. He swallowed again, for the words had been so long closed off. He cradled her face in hands that felt awkward and over large. ‘My darling. Look at me.’ A flood of emotion washed over him. Hope. Joy. And, yes, sweet warm love. They constricted his throat as her gaze met his. ‘Of course he loved you. I love you.’

He stilled, shocked by the sound of what he had said. Shocked by the fact that he had dared to put his feelings into words. ‘I love your wit and your courage. I love your beauty. But most of all I love you.’

Her mouth trembled as her gazed searched his face. ‘Please. I don’t need your kindness.’

‘When have I ever been kind to you?’ He brushed his mouth against hers. His lips tingled at this briefest of touches, wanting more. ‘It is I who needs kindness. All morning I’ve been plotting ways to keep you close, building a cage from which you could not escape. But I just couldn’t do it, sweet. It seems I can’t keep you against your will. I want you to be happy.’ He groaned. ‘But God, I don’t want to lose you.’

‘Oh, Bane.’ She flung her arms about his neck and sobbed against his shoulder.

He’d made her cry yet again. He was an idiot. He’d made things worse. Awkwardly he patted her back. Forced himself not to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until she forgot his promise to let her leave. He had wooed her with seduction once, he would not lower himself to doing it again.

Slowly her sobs subsided.

He handed her his handkerchief and stood up while she dried her eyes.

‘You meant what you said about letting me leave?’ she asked in a shaky whisper and the glimmer of a smile.

He nodded. The damnable lump in his throat did not allow for speech, but his eyes drank her in and he realised this would likely be the last time he would ever have a chance to be