A Dreadful Splendor (80)

It was impossible to share his dream of us.

At one time I may have believed I felt romantic inclinations toward William. But now I know what it is to truly love. And—he is my half brother! How can he even entertain the thought of such a union? What matter if we could keep it a secret? I would know the truth. I was almost sick at the notion.

I fell to my knees, my legs giving out. William carried me to the bed. He gently swept the hair away from my face, and I stayed very still. He said it had pained him, all this time, to keep secrets, to witness my distress as I prepared to marry Mr. Pemberton. But he’d wanted to protect my future so that I could remain head of Somerset if proof could not be found.

He then told me one last secret. William said my mother had learned of his existence and forbidden Father from rescuing him from the orphanage. It was only after Mother died that Father allowed Mrs. Donovan to fetch him from the blacksmith. However, Mr. Sutterly refused to give up William so easily, demand ing to be paid. William said Father never confessed to it, but Mr. Sutterly’s unfortunate end came the very day he was meant to go to Somerset and collect payment.

As horrendous as it seems, my bones sense he is telling the truth. And I have always detected a special secret between Mrs. Donovan and William. I asked him if she knew who he was.

He nodded and revealed Mrs. Donovan was the servant who’d delivered him! To secure his safety from Grandfather’s wrath, she’d brought him to the village church. When she returned to Somerset, his mother was gone. No one heard from her again.

Then William asked when I would tell Mr. Pemberton there would be no wedding. The backs of his fingers brushed across my cheek as he said this. His meaning could not have been clearer, Dearest.

I told him I would never be with him.

He began to cry. He lowered his head against my lap and begged for me to understand. He knows it is wrong, but cannot ignore the stirrings in his heart that have loved me all these years. It is impossible, he said. He will always love me more than anything. It has been pure torture for him to hold himself back, and then to watch Mr. Pemberton walk in and take everything that is rightfully his . . . including me.

A rage I did not know I possessed flared without warning. I scratched at his face and wrangled myself from his arms, but he caught the hem of my dressing gown, and I fell hard on the floor. At once there was a cramping in my stomach. I cried out.

William crouched beside me, but I pushed him away again. I screamed that I hated him and wished he’d never come to Somerset.

In that moment he looked so much like the young boy I knew when he first arrived, thin-faced and uncertain of his place here. He touched the red marks my fingernails had left on his cheek as he said I would regret marrying Mr. Pemberton. Then he promised me two things: First, that he will leave Somerset directly after the wedding and never return. And second, the last word from his dying lips will be my name. Then he made his retreat, quietly closing the door behind him.

I sat on the floor as I waited for my stomach to ease. Then I saw a shadow of movement beneath the door. I threw it open, prepared to scream, but it was Mrs. Donovan. Seeing my distress, she promised to stay outside my room all night under the guise of protecting me from wandering off again. But I don’t trust her words. She knew all along about William! She must have been the one who gave him the key to my room tonight.

That yellowed sheet of paper was sitting discarded on my rug. I picked it up and read it again. It appeared legitimate. I may leave Somerset, but this will forever be my home. I’d rather have dull Mr. Pemberton looking over its welfare than William.

I tore the paper into pieces, then held each one over the flame of a candle, watching as every scrap burned to ash. I have no remorse for what I’ve taken from William. Let this be my last act of love for Somerset Park.





Chapter Forty-Nine




I stared bleakly at her last sentence.

What happened to Audra was still a mystery. However, it was obvious she was in love with Dr. Barnaby and they had planned to leave together. And how shocking to discover William was telling the truth about his inheritance!

My mind was a mess of half-formed theories. She may have loved William when they were younger, but that all changed when she met Dr. Barnaby. William, though, was still in love with Audra, despite their blood connection. He sounded obsessed. And if he couldn’t marry her, maybe he’d made it so no one else could.

Next, I tried to reconcile the affable doctor with the man who would carry on an affair with his best friend’s betrothed. I couldn’t summon a passionate figure of him. How had he convinced her to leave Somerset behind? I replayed every encounter we’d had together with fresh eyes. Men had an unfathomable capability for romantic manipulation. Although love was never my strong suit.

An image of Mr. Pemberton entered my mind, bringing with it another flutter of confused emotions. Audra had found him impersonal enough to dull his handsome looks. And like Flora, she had harboured suspicions about him.

Audra didn’t love Mr. Pemberton, but she accepted his proposal to save Somerset. I knew now that he also considered their mar riage a sensible arrangement, but I’d glimpsed beneath the veil of his cold demeanour and could attest to his hidden depths and passionate heart.

What if Mr. Pemberton had found out about Dr. Barnaby? A double-sided betrayal from his best friend and his fiancée could make a man act irrationally, and I had witnessed firsthand his desire for justice.