A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,112
expressionless. Ilsa reeled, clutching Drew’s hand. His fingers closed around hers, providing an anchor as her world pitched off its axis.
“You do know, don’t you,” Drew added quietly.
Her father sat motionless. Mr. Lorde looked vigilantly from him to Ilsa and back, saying nothing. “I do,” Papa said at long last, very quietly. “But I will not give him up, not even if it costs my own life,” he added as Ilsa jerked in her chair.
“What? But no—Papa, you can clear your name! Of course we will try to help this person—explain to the sheriff—you cannot let this charge go unanswered—”
“No!” He recoiled from her outstretched hands. “No, Ilsa. I will not. Do not argue,” he added sharply. “I said no, child, and that is my final word.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Drew was watching Papa, a pensive look on his face. At her glance he put his free hand on her shoulder.
Then he spoke. “Is he your son?”
The quiet question seemed to echo in the room. Ilsa’s mouth dropped open. Mr. Lorde pursed his lips. And Papa . . .
Papa’s mouth closed in a hard line.
“What?” She turned to Drew again, in outrage this time. “Why would you say that? I have no brother!”
Her father glared at Drew. “You’re the fellow who’s caused such a stir in town, aren’t you? The one everybody leapt to accommodate like lackeys. I’m not impressed by a fancy title, lad, especially one you’ve not even got yet. Keep to your own business.”
Drew did not flinch under this. “A man would only go to such lengths to protect a few people. Someone beloved, someone dearer than life to him. It’s not you, Ilsa, and I cannot believe it’s your aunt. You told me you’ve got no uncles, no other aunts, no cousins, and your grandparents are dead. That leaves . . . a son.”
The anger that had animated her father had drained away as Drew spoke. Now he put a hand over his face. “Stop.” His shoulders slumped. “Yes. He’s my son.”
Ilsa thought she might faint—might have already fainted and was imagining the whole scene.
“I’ve been a terrible father to him all his life,” her father went on, seeming to age before her eyes. “This is the least I can do, save his life.”
“It’s a terrible thing he’s done,” said Drew quietly.
“Who?” Ilsa asked at the same moment, unable to form any other thought or word.
Her father turned to her. His handsome face sagged in defeat. “Please understand. I—I was young. I was careless.” He paused, his throat working. “I met his mother and was smitten. Things . . . got out of hand. I never meant to . . .” He sighed. “But I could not hold it against the boy. I supported him and his mother ever since and did what I could for the lad. But I could never claim him. I didn’t dare, even though it had been my dream for a son to inherit—” His voice broke, and he reached for her hands. “Forgive me, child. I thought I could keep the secret, provide for the boy, and raise him almost as my own.”
“Does he know?” asked Drew. Ilsa was grateful one of them could form coherent questions.
Papa eyed Drew for a moment, a muscle working in his jaw. “Yes, he does.” He looked back to Ilsa. “Don’t hold this against him. He’s known, and envied you, his entire life. ’Tis a hard thing for a man to bear.”
And hard for a daughter to learn, she thought bitterly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I always feared you would discover it. It was never my intent.”
“But why?” she protested.
Papa hesitated a long time. “He’s your age, Ilsa. Only two months older.”
No. That meant—that meant Papa had been unfaithful to her mother, not in the later years when Mama was ill but before, when they were newly married. He’d always told her theirs had been an incomparable love match and declared he’d never married again because he would never love another woman as much.
“I realized what a fool I’d been when your mother told me she was expecting you,” he said. “I ended my—my flirtation, sobered and aware of how reckless I’d been. But it was too late. Anne . . . was also carrying my child. I pledged to support her, but she wanted more. She . . . she told your mother and broke her heart.” Papa hung his head. “I promised Cordelia I would never tell you about my betrayal.”