Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

" L et me get you something before you go," Matthew told his sisters. "Stay for a drink, if nothing else."

The ladies looked at one another. "I'm in no hurry to return to London," Edwina said. "We may stay the night, if you'll have us."

"Of course I will," Matthew said. "The truth is that it's good to see you. Both of you."

"I still can't believe you came all the way out here without even telling us what you were doing," Lavinia told him, sinking into a chair. "I can't believe you didn't even want to let us know. Didn't you think we would find out? And didn't you think how it might affect us when we did? We've been so worried. We spent the whole journey here talking about what might be the matter."

"I didn't mean to make you worry, truly," Matthew told them. "I do feel remorseful about that."

"You should feel remorseful about much more than that," Edwina said. "Leaving Cressida on her own the way you did—the poor thing is heartbroken."

"That's enough, Edwina," Lavinia said gently. "He knows. He's heard us. He needs to come to the right conclusion on his own now. We'll have to give him the time to do that."

"You know I don't like that," Edwina said.

Lavinia caught Matthew's eye, and the two shared a smile at their youngest sibling. "I know," Lavinia agreed. "I know you want to take charge of the situation. You and Matthew are very alike in some ways, you know—reluctant to surrender control."

"I'm not the same as him in that way," Edwina objected. "I may like to have control over things, but not because I fear what will happen if I lose control."

"I'm not afraid of that," Matthew protested.

"You're so afraid of it that you fled to the countryside rather than face the fact that your wife looked at your drawings," Lavinia said.

"Lavinia is right," Edwina said. "You need to acknowledge that you allowed yourself to be driven by your fear, Matthew. You need to face it."

Matthew turned his back to them for a moment.

His heart was pounding. His palms were sweating. He had never before considered the thing he was considering right now.

But the picture they were painting—it wasn't the true one. Yes, he liked to have control over his life, and it bothered him when he didn't—they weren't wrong about that. But he wouldn't have run away the way he had over something like that.

Could he really tell them the true reason?

But on the other hand…could he keep it from them? Maybe the time had finally come?

He wasn't aware of making the decision. Suddenly, without warning, the words were simply leaving his mouth. "She discovered a secret," he said. "That was the reason I had to leave. Cressida found a secret about me—one nobody else knows—and I couldn't bear it."

He didn't turn around. He didn't want to see their faces.

Lavinia and Edwina were silent for several moments, and then Lavinia spoke. "A secret?" she repeated. "What secret?"

"Do you mean a secret we don't know?" Edwina asked.

"He doesn't mean that," Lavinia said. "How could he?"

"I do mean it," Matthew countered. "Even you two don't know everything about me."

"But what is this secret?" Lavinia asked, and Matthew could hear the anxious tension in her voice. "What could be so important that it would send you running out of London the way this did, Matthew? How could anything impact you so powerfully? And whatever it is, why would you hide it from us for all these years?"

Matthew took a deep breath. Already, he had reached the point of no return, and he knew it. He was going to have to tell them the truth. And the fact that it was no longer a choice made him feel a sense of powerful relief that he hadn't quite expected. The thing he had kept so close for so long was about to be let go, for better or for worse. At long last, it wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore. He would be able to stop imagining what his sisters would say if they knew—he would have the answer.

"Father had an affair," he said quietly.

There was no answer from behind him. He could only imagine the expressions their faces must hold.

"You two and I don't have the same mother," he said. "That was the secret Cressida learned. I had drawn a picture of my mother based on a description Father once gave me. She was a maid, and she shared my dark hair and the freckle by my mouth." He touched it. "As soon as she saw the drawing, Cressida understood what was going on."

He waited, hardly able to breathe.

"I can't believe this," Lavinia murmured. "Are you certain, Matthew? Mother was not your mother?"

"Not by blood," Matthew said. "She was always good to me, and I love and respect her for that. And she was your mother, of course, both of you, and that fact means everything to me, because I love you both dearly. But she was not my mother. My mother was a commoner, and I am an illegitimate son."

Saying the words aloud—it was something he had never done before. It pained him, but at the same time, the pain was not as unbearable as he would have imagined that it might be. It was like drawing poison from a wound.

And there was something he hadn't anticipated at all. There was a bit of pride in it. Being able, at last, to claim his mother for who she was instead of trying to keep her a secret—that felt wonderful. He had never known her, and he hadn't realized the guilt that had built in the pit of his stomach over the matter of keeping her hidden away like this. But now, speaking of her openly, he thought, she deserved better. She deserved to be acknowledged, and I'm glad I'm able to give her that, even if it is years too late .

"But I don't understand," Edwina said. "What has any of this to do with your decision to leave London?"

"What?" He frowned, finally turning to face them again. Edwina's face was a picture of frank confusion. "This is why I left London," he said. "This is the reason I had to go."

"Because Father had an affair? That's not your fault. And why would you punish Cressida for such a thing?"

"I'm not punishing her! That's not my intention. But how could she have continued to love me, knowing this?"

"We love you," Lavinia said simply. "Why would it change anything? You're the same man, Matthew."

"That's right," Edwina agreed. "You're the same person you've always been. You're the same elder brother we've always loved. And if Cressida loved you a week ago, as I have reason enough to believe that she did, then she loves you today. Nothing has changed on that score. You're the only one making it different You're the one who ran away. You ought to go back to her and give her a chance."

"Did she actually tell you that she couldn't accept this fact about you?" Lavinia asked. "Did she give you any reason to believe that it would change anything?"

"Well—no," Matthew was forced to admit. "She didn't say anything of the sort."

"Then why would you make such an assumption? Don't you trust her? Don't you know her well enough to know her character? Does she seem to you the sort of person to make such shallow judgments of other people?"

Matthew shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "You can't understand. You're both being very kind, but you haven't lived with this knowledge your whole lives—always understanding that you didn't fit in with your family, that you weren't quite worthy. Always knowing that you didn't belong."

"Matthew, no one has ever said that," Lavinia said. "No one has ever treated you as if you were any less than a full, legitimate son of our father's. Didn't he name you his heir?"

"Well, yes, he did."

"Then this didn't matter to him."

"He had no other options," Matthew pointed out. "He had no other sons."

"Of course he had options," Edwina said. " Father could have denied you at that time and left his land and title to our cousin Michael, if he so chose. You know he always liked Michael. But he didn't choose Michael, even though he had that choice available. He chose you. He recognized you as his son and heir, and that ought to tell you everything you need to know about your worth. You are worthy, Matthew. Our father said so. You cannot go on second guessing it."

"She's right," Lavinia said. "And Cressida is good-hearted enough to be trusted with this. Just look at the fact that, when we confronted her about what was going on, she didn't tell us this secret. She could have. There was nothing compelling her to keep it to herself. She chose to protect what she knew you didn't want shared. She was loyal to you when you gave her no reason to be."

Outside, the thunder crashed again.

It stirred a memory in Matthew's mind—a memory that was both wonderful and heart-wrenching.

The night of the storm. The night he and Cressida had first bonded, sitting awake in the library of his house, because she had been too frightened of the rain and the thunder to go to sleep. Because she hadn't been able to bear it. He had discovered her fear of thunderstorms that night—and he had discovered, too, his own desire to soothe and comfort her. To be a warming presence in her life. He hadn't recognized it then for what it was, but he did now.

He had wanted to sit with her that night, to hold her and comfort her and make her feel safe, because he had been starting to fall in love.

And now his heart belonged to her completely.

He loved her—and he had left her. She was alone tonight in a storm because his own selfishness and fear had driven him from her side.

That thought hit him like a hurricane. Suddenly, nothing else that had happened seemed important. All he could think about was Cressida, facing her worst fears all alone because he hadn't been strong enough to stay with her.

He should have been with her. He was horrified, suddenly, that he had let his selfish fears drive him away from her side.

He jumped to his feet.

"What is it?" Edwina demanded as she and Lavinia rose too. "What are you doing now?"

"What you suggested," Matthew said. "I'm going back. I'm going home to see her."

"Wait a moment. We have our carriage—we'll go together," Lavinia said.

"No," Matthew said. "You two stay here tonight. I don't want you traveling in the rain."

"You're going to take our carriage?"

"I'm going to take my horse. The carriage won't be fast enough." He could feel his need to embrace Cressida like an ache in his arms that wouldn't subside. Nothing but a full-on gallop to her side would be good enough.

"You're going to ride back to London in the rain?" Edwina exclaimed. "Matthew, surely we can simply go in the morning."

He couldn't explain, and he didn't want to. "I'm going now," he told them. "You two remain here and come and join me tomorrow. Thank you for coming. Thank you for reminding me what was most important. Now I really must be on my way."

And without another word to his sisters, he hurried from the room.