Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(62)

It couldn't be true. If it were, then Andrew was his half brother. Even Rochester couldn't be that cruel, watching his two sons grow up side by side, never allowing them to know they were related. One brought up with wealth, luxury, and privilege, the other with hunger and abuse. “It couldn't be…” Logan was unaware that he had spoken until Mrs. Florence, answered.

“It's the truth, dear boy. I'm sorry if I've destroyed your illusions. I only hope that the Jennings were good parents to you. At the very least, Rochester cared enough to ensure that you lived close by him.”

Bitterness welled up in his throat until he nearly choked. All of a sudden he wanted to tell her what kind of life it had been, the fear and pain he had suffered at the hands of Paul Jennings, the indifference of his so-called mother. And Rochester had been aware of all of it. Logan kept his mouth shut, gritting his teeth with the effort. Unfortunately, it seemed that he wasn't able to keep all his feelings hidden.

“Well,” Mrs. Florence said, staring at him, “I can see that you had far from a pleasant time of it. That's partly my fault. I should never have taken Rochester at face value—I should have demanded proof that you had died. I was too absorbed in my grief over Elizabeth's death to pursue the issue.”

Logan's head was spinning. He fumbled for a chair and lowered himself into it. He heard a knocking at the door and the voice of an employee who had come to collect his costume for washing and mending. “I'm busy,” he said in response. “Come back later.”

“Mr. Scott, there are some admirers who wish to meet you—”

“I'll kill the first person who comes through that door. Leave me in peace.”

“Yes, Mr. Scott.” The employee left, and the dressing room was silent once more.

“Julia was right about you,” Mrs. Florence finally remarked, finishing her brandy. “She once told me that you are not a happy man. That's one of the reasons I encouraged Madeline to seduce you.” She met his stunned, accusing glare without flinching. “Yes, I knew about her scheme, though I wasn't aware of her precise reasons for it. I wanted you to have her. I thought you might fall in love with her—I fail to see how the most hardened man could resist her. I thought a girl like Madeline would make you happy.”

“Damn you for meddling in my life!” he said savagely.

Mrs. Florence appeared to be unimpressed by his fury. “Save your passion for the stage,” she advised. “I may have made a mistake, but all your snarling and snapping won't change anything.”

Somehow he managed to gain control of his temper. “Why now?” he asked through his teeth. “If anything you've said is true—and I don't believe a word of it—why did you come to me now?”

She gave him a smile that held more than a hint of challenge. “History has a way of repeating itself. I find it ironic that you're about to behave exactly as your father did and condemn your child to the same life you had, with no one to protect him or provide for his needs. I thought I should at least make you aware of the truth about your past, and allow you the chance to do the honorable thing by Maddy.”

“And if I don't?” he sneered, a flush creeping over his face. “There's not much you can do about it, is there?”

“If you won't take Maddy in, I will. I have the means to ensure that she and her child will lead a comfortable life. That baby is my great-grandchild, and I will do everything in my power to help him…or her.”

Logan shook his head as he stared at the elderly woman. Frail and small she might be, but she I possessed an amazing force of will. “You're a tough old hen,” he said gruffly. “I can almost believe we're related.”

Mrs. Florence seemed to read his thoughts. Another smile curved her lips. “When you know me a little better, dear boy, you'll have no doubt of it.” She rose from her chair, leaning on her cane, and Logan automatically moved to assist her. “I'm going home now. Will you be coming with me, Scott?…Or shall you conveniently ignore the mess you've helped to create?”

He let go of her with a scowl. The honorable thing, of course, would be to marry Madeline and legitimize the baby. But it was galling—no, outrageous—to be forced into this position. Besides, he had never been a particularly honorable man.

He looked longingly at the brandy bottle, tempted to drink himself into a stupor.

“You'll have a bald patch if you don't stop that tugging,” Mrs. Florence said, her voice touched with amusement.

Logan realized that he had reverted to his habit of pulling the front of his hair when distracted. He let go of it with a muttered curse.

“Your pride is hurt because Maddy deceived you,” Mrs. Florence said. “I'm certain it will take a long time for your wounded feelings to heal. But if you could manage to look beyond your own concerns, you would realize that there is a frightened girl who needs your support—”

“I know what my duty is,” he said tersely. “I just don't know if I can stand to look at her again.”

Mrs. Florence frowned, impatiently tapping her cane on the floor while he went to the dressing table and took a long pull on the brandy bottle. He was filled with the urge to punish Madeline, humiliate her as she had him…and yet the prospect of going to her now nearly made him tremble with anticipation.