Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(87)

She snuggled back a little, offering comfort for wounds long healed—or perhaps only scabbed over. Her cheek came to rest upon the soft wool of his coat.

Running a hand through her hair, he continued. “There were six of us by then. There’s myself and my brother James, whom you have not met; I bought him a commission and he sails the seas for his majesty. Then there are the three oldest girls: Anne, Bliss, and Dahlia. Bliss you know well and the other two you saw at the wedding. Anne is the oldest after me. She’s married with several children. My brother Robert gads about. I never know when I will see him, or where. I am not always sure how he supports himself, but he has never come to me for funds.”

“And then you have another sister?”

“Yes. Felicity. She is the youngest.”

“The one who …”

“Yes, she never had a chance to know my mother. But back to where I was. There were six of us when my father finally hired a tutor. I resisted at first, but then fell into my studies until they were all I knew. I delighted in the order that they represented. I’d never experienced anything like it. I loved it. I found myself ignoring all else just so that I could bury myself in my books. I didn’t even mind the discipline. It was a wonder to me after the constant festival that had been our home.”

“And then your mother died.”

His whole chest expanded as he sucked in a deep breath and held it. Louisa could feel his heart speeding under her cheek. There was something he wanted to say, but still held back. She tilted her head and laid a soft kiss against his throat.

“I lied to you.” He spoke so quietly she hardly heard.

“What?” Dread filled her as she considered all the possible lies.

“My mother did not die in childbirth. That is a story that was told for fear people would think she killed herself—or worse.”

“What?” This time it was more exclamation than question.

“I never lie—and I do mean never. I don’t even tell polite social lies. If you ask me if you look attractive in a vile shade of pumpkin I will tell you exactly what I think. I never lie, but this one has followed me since I was thirteen years old.”

“What happened?”

“Felicity was three days old, and my mother was growing bored in bed. She could never bear to be still for a moment longer than necessary. Bliss is just like her.” He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “A traveling circus had come to town. We’d all attended—except my mother—and while I’d gone back to my studies the others had decided to make it a game. Robert was trying to juggle. The girls wanted to be acrobats. James was pretending to be the circus master and my father was a lion chasing them all about. I watched from my window across the courtyard. I enjoyed their silliness.”

“I can understand that.”

“I not sure how much of the rest is memory and how much I’ve been told. Some parts are so vivid I must have seen them; others I don’t see how I could have known. My mother, as I’ve said, grew bored. She could hear the play from her window and came out on the balcony to watch. She was dressed in some white fluttery thing, her fair hair loose about her shoulders. And then she climbed onto the balcony rail and announced that she would be the ropewalker.”

He closed his eyes. “A moment later she lay on the stones below. I will never forget that sight. That I know I saw.”

“Oh, Geoffrey.” Tears prickled her eyes.

“I’d been just about to come and join them. Even when I saw my mother all I could think was that I had the best parents. I learned differently. My father had barely taken care of us before her death. Afterwards he noticed us not at all. I was sent to Eton within the month and did not return home for nearly a year. He forgot to send someone to get me at the holidays.”

The first tears leaked down her cheeks.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I was the lucky one. When I returned home, the girls were filthy. The servants were eating better than the family. My brother had not had a lesson with his tutor in months. And my father. My father threw parties and drank and danced. And my siblings danced with him. I actually found James downing a bottle of whiskey while my father and his so-called friends looked on. I was only twelve and James was slightly more than a year younger. And not one of them—not my father, not any of his friends, not my siblings—thought there was anything wrong with how they were living.”

“And so you took over.” It was a simple statement.

“Yes. I fired half the servants, went through the accounts, sent all the friends away. I locked my father in his chamber until he was sober enough to sign whatever needed to be signed. Even when I went back to school I kept track of things, and the new manager I’d hired kept the estates in shape. I daresay my father could have wrested control from me if he’d tried, but he never did. He would have had to care to try. And he’s never cared for anything besides his own fun.”

Another soft kiss was laid against his throat, the moisture from her cheeks dampening his skin. “I am so sorry. Nobody should have had to go through that—and you were only a boy.”

He turned his face down so that his lips lay against her forehead. “It was not as bad as that. School was my salvation. I learned about rules and discipline.”

“But I have heard such horrible things about how rough school can be.”