Chapter Thirty-One

L awrence trudged along the path home. Sir Halford might pay well, but Lady Merrick found fault in everything. Either the rosebushes didn’t produce enough blooms, or the beans in the kitchen garden refused to grow to their full height.

His answer that he wasn’t responsible for the frost that morning had been met with an equally frosty reply.

“Mr. Baxter, it’s your job to ensure the weather is fair.”

At which point he’d tried to argue the beneficial effect of frosts on the parsnips and was met with an accusation of deception.

Why was it that when faced with a problem, a woman sought someone to blame rather than a solution?

Except Bella. Though she’d been irritable of late. Perhaps Lady Arabella Ponsford was beginning to resurface?

You’re being unjust.

Her shortness of temper was never directed at the children—she weathered their misbehavior with aplomb. Nor was it directed at the house, which was spotless each time he came home.

It was directed at him.

He pushed open the door and entered the house.

“A lady’s maid is not just a servant to dress her when she asks,” a voice said from behind the parlor door. “She must also act as a—a… What’s that word, Mama?”

“Confidante,” Bella voice said.

“What’s a confidante?”

“Someone you trust with your secrets. Like a friend.”

“Like Tommie. I can tell him anything,” Jonathan said. “Do you have a friend?”

“There’s Sophie,” Bella said.

“She doesn’t live here anymore. That means you have nobody.”

“I have you , sweet boy.”

Lawrence entered the parlor. His heart swelled at the sight of Bella and Jonathan curled up in front of the fire—mother and son spending a quiet moment together.

Only they weren’t mother and son.

Jonathan spotted him first. “Hello, Papa. I’m reading with Mama.”

Something about him looked different—more grownup, somehow. Was his little boy turning into a man?

Bella glanced up, and Lawrence’s chest tightened at the beautiful expression in her eyes. She looked as if she belonged there, holding his child in her arms.

“What’s that you’re reading?” he asked.

“ The Lady’s Maid: a Guide for Aspiring Young Women ,” Jonathan said proudly. “Did I get it right, Mama?”

“You did.” Bella ruffled the boy’s hair and kissed the top of his head.

“What do you think, Papa?” Jonathan asked.

“You read very well, though I wouldn’t have thought a book about lady’s maids is right for you.”

“We’re going to ask Mrs. Gleeson after church on Sunday if she has a copy of Johnson’s dictionary we can borrow,” Bella said.

The little boy pointed to his face. “No, I mean, what do you think about these ?”

Then Lawrence saw it.

“Are those— spectacles ?”

The boy nodded. “They’re new! Mama took me to Midchester today and got them special. Do you like them?”

Lawrence glanced at his wife. “Shouldn’t Jonathan have been in school?”

“She told Mrs. Chantry I was sick!” Jonathan said. “Do you like my glasses? They cost a whole pound!”

“A what ?”

“A pound!” Jonathan replied. “Twenty whole shillings—I’ve never seen so much money in my life.”

“No,” Lawrence said, fighting to temper his anger. “Neither have I.”

“We brought gifts for Bobby and Billy too, didn’t we Mama? A toy horse for William, and a toy boat for Roberta—it looks just like Nelson’s ship the Victory . And we bought a gift for you. Mama insisted.”

“In heaven’s name!” Lawrence cried. “How much did this excursion cost?”

“Two pounds,” Jonathan said. “I want to go again.”

“I’m sure you do, seeing as you’re not the one who’ll have to pay for it,” Lawrence said.

Bella lifted the boy off her lap. “Jonathan, why don’t you take the book upstairs and read in your chamber until supper’s ready?”

“Yes, Mama!” He skipped out of the parlor.

Bella stood, wiping her hands and smoothing back her hair. Lawrence approached her, and she tilted her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes.

How he’d longed to see her spirit again. But at what cost?

“Two pounds, Bella? Really? ”

“It’s for my son.”

“He’s not your…” He checked himself.

“What?” she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. “Not my responsibility? Whose responsibility is he, then? Did you notice he couldn’t see close objects?”

“No—but I’m not the one who’s spent money that we can’t afford,” he said. “It’s no guarantee that Mr. Trelawney will hire me.”

“ If he exists.”

“Are you accusing me of deception?”

“I’d like to know what you’re accusing me of.”

“Of having no sense when it comes to managing money!” he cried. “Don’t you know that’s how families get into debt—when they spend beyond their means on frivolities they don’t need?”

“Jonathan is not a frivolity!” she said. “He needed spectacles. Can you swear you’ve never wasted money on frivolities?”

“Of course I haven’t!” he replied. “What the devil are you accusing me of?”

“ I’m not the one making accusations,” she said. “But rest assured, I didn’t waste any of your hard-earned money today. If you have no use for the gift we bought you, then I suggest you sell it, seeing as you care more for money than your family.”

Her eyes flashed with fury, and he caught his breath. Infuriating she might be, but whatever straits she’d placed them in, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. Trembling with passion, she parted her lips—and he wanted nothing more than to claim that mouth of hers and bury his hands in her hair.

He fisted his hands as his cock sprang to life. To have her writhing beneath him, teeth bared, body trembling with life, while he claimed her for his own…! It was all he could do to stop himself from tossing up her skirts and fucking the anger out of her on the parlor floor.

Footsteps clattered on the stairs, and the children appeared.

“Time for supper,” Bella said. Not pausing to glance back at Lawrence, she swept into the kitchen, where she served them in silence and picked at her meal. The children watched him, fear and accusation in their eyes.

Damn her—did she seek to spoil his children with trinkets and turn them against him?

But other than admonishing William for chewing with his mouth open, she said nothing, acknowledging Lawrence with a nod when he rose from the table to resume work in the study on what he’d begun to call that fucking garden design .

He still couldn’t picture the garden. Something different , Mr. Trelawney had said. Something to transport his wife to another world. Foolish man—pandering to a woman. But the prospect of a hefty fee was enough to weather the whims of any woman, provided Lawrence could come up with a design she liked.

Tiredness overcame him, and he reached forward to extinguish the candle. Then he saw it.

A small packet on the corner of the desk.

He reached for it, unlaced the string, and opened the wrapping with the name Beachamp’s, Midchester handwritten on the front. Inside was a neatly folded, cream-colored neckerchief. He lifted it to his face and brushed it against his cheek, relishing the softness of the silk and the faint aroma of roses.

He’d torn his best neckerchief last week when he dressed for church.

And Bella had noticed.

He moistened his thumb and forefinger, pinched the candle wick, which sizzled before the flame died, then exited the study.

Low voices came from the children’s bedroom. Why weren’t they asleep?

He crept to the top of the stairs. Their door was ajar, and he peered through the crack.

Bella sat on Roberta’s bed, Jonathan in her arms, and the twins squashed either side of her. William clutched a small wooden horse in his hands, and Roberta had a toy boat tucked under her sleeve—their gifts from Midchester.

Had Bella bought anything for herself?

“When a lady is in need of solace,” Jonathan said, studying the book in his hands, “she must not disturb her father or husband with her concerns. Instead, she will turn to her maid…”

“Very good, Jonathan,” Bella said, turning the page. “You read well. Mind you take care of your spectacles.”

“I will, Mama.”

“Tell Mrs. Chantry she must ensure you look after them as well.”

“Will she be angry with me for not going to school?”

“Leave her to me,” Bella said.

“What if you’re not there?”

“Then you tell me, and I’ll go and see her.”

“No,” Jonathan said, “I mean what if you’re no longer here—with us?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bella asked.

“Are you going to leave us?”

All three children stared at her, and Lawrence held his breath.

Bella smiled and shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Papa said—”

“Take no notice of Papa,” she said. “I suspect he was just tired after a long day. He works very hard for us, doesn’t he?”

“So, you won’t go away?”

Lawrence’s heart ached at the anguish in his son’s voice.

“I promise,” Bella said. “What mother would leave her children?”

“I want you to stay forever,” Jonathan said. “I love you, Mama.”

Bella kissed his forehead. “I love you too, sweet boy. I love you all—more than life itself.”

She looked up and froze as she met Lawrence’s gaze.

Ashamed at being caught eavesdropping, he pushed the door fully open. Four pairs of eyes stared at him.

“Children, it’s time you went to sleep and let your mama rest,” he said. “I’m sure she’s tired and wants some respite.

“Yes, Papa,” they chorused. Bella climbed off the bed, tucked the children in, then exited the bedchamber.

Lawrence caught her hand. “Bella…”

“You were right,” she said. “I do want respite—I crave it.”

“Respite from what?”

She descended the stairs to the parlor. He followed and watched her tidy the room and set out the blankets on the sofa for the night—the sofa she’d been sleeping on since her arrival.

“What do you want respite from, Bella?”

She turned to face him, her eyes filled with tears. “Your deception.”

Dear Lord —was her memory returning?

“D-deception?”

She nodded. “You’ve taken me for a fool. I-I don’t know for how long—but I know it’s the worst form of deception a man can undertake.”

“What have I done?”

She reached behind the clock on the mantelshelf. “This,” she said, holding out her hand—and Lady Arabella’s ruby brooch with its huge gemstone, winking malevolently at him, like a huge red eye.

She ran her thumb along the monogram.

“A.P.,” she said. “I know who A.P. is.”

Shit.

He lifted his gaze to Bella’s, and the breath caught in his chest.

The sapphire eyes filled with disgust and betrayal were not the eyes of Bella Baxter.

They were the eyes of Lady Arabella Ponsford.