The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,73
shook his head. “That is an understatement and we both know it. At any rate, my father encouraged the late earl to nip that desire in the bud, and the lovers were parted.”
“Christ,” Owen said, pacing away and running a hand through his hair. “A fourth woman. Fifth if you count Montgomery’s pursuit of your sister. It seems the man had no limits.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
Gilmore and Owen both turned toward the study door. Celeste stood there, Phillipa behind her. But all Owen could look at was Celeste. Her cheeks were pale and her gray-blue eyes were flashing with anger and upset. At him. It was the first time he’d ever seen those dark emotions directed at him.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Cookson said as he eased his way past Celeste with a frown. “I did ask her to wait, but she insisted.”
“And very good that I did, for it allowed me a chance to overhear what I assume you never intended to tell me,” Celeste said as she entered the room and set a parcel she was carrying on the sideboard. “That there was yet another woman in Erasmus’s life.”
“Celeste, you don’t know that he intended to keep this from you,” Phillipa said as she grasped Celeste’s arm and squeezed gently. “You accuse without knowing the facts.”
“Yes, I was unaware of a great many facts,” Celeste said, without removing her gaze from Owen. “When did you intend to tell me about this woman, this Rosie Stanton?”
“Cookson, you may go,” Owen said.
The butler looked very pleased at that order and scurried away. Gilmore cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should also depart.”
“No,” Celeste said, turning her attention to the duke. “Do not trouble yourself, Your Grace. This is not a private conversation.”
Owen stepped forward. “Celeste—”
She took an equal step back. “How long have you known about this woman?”
“A few days,” he admitted.
Her face crumpled slightly, and for a moment she seemed to struggle to find breath. Her voice wavered as she said, “And you kept me in the dark.”
He flinched at the use of those words, identical to what she had confessed was so important to her. “I realize that you feel betrayed,” he began, but she shook her head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He glanced around the room. Gilmore had become intensely interested in a miniature on his mantel and Phillipa was now pouring herself tea at the sideboard as if it took every ounce of her concentration to do so.
But even if they pretended, this entire conversation was still intimate. It still revealed too much about how close they had become. He shifted with discomfort before he whispered, “Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He hoped that would soften her. That she would see his good motives and accept them. Instead her gaze narrowed all the further. “You were supposed to know that I could handle the truth,” she said, her voice shaking. “You were not supposed to protect me with lies like my parents did. Or keep me in the dark like Erasmus.”
He flinched a second time at the use of that phrase. It clearly resonated with her, sat heavy in her heart. “I’m not like them and you know it.”
“Do I?”
Phillipa stepped up them, cheeks flaming as she caught Celeste’s arm. “Dearest, dearest…perhaps we should go. Perhaps we should wait on what we came to share with Mr. Gregory until you are less…less out of sorts.”
Celeste still didn’t unlock her gaze from Owen’s. He supposed she wanted him to feel how angry she was and he did. But the more important emotion that pulsed from every single part of her was hurt. She was hurt by his hiding some of the truth from her. And he hated it, despite the fact that this case was his own. Despite the fact that he might not owe her what she desired, at least not when it came to his role as an investigator.
“There is no need for us to go, Pippa,” Celeste said, turning her face at last. “I have nothing more of a personal nature to say. I came here to discuss your case, Mr. Gregory, and I would like to do that.”
He pursed his lips. The part of him that loved this woman wanted to take her hand and pull her closer and work out the pain that she felt. The investigator told him this was not the time, nor the place, especially if she had important information to convey.
“What would you like to tell me?”