Page 21 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

F amily. Fury. The two words entwined. The British cavalry couldn’t tear these two words apart, so inseparable were they. Just like Leonora could never separate the blood pulsing through her veins from that which ran through her parents’. She could never escape this inheritance. It was in her, forever. Like so many other things. Dare had once said she was smarter than Heart, which meant she must have inherited her mother’s cleverness. But she’d inherited plenty from her father—stubbornness chief among them. She could never run from it. Could never hide it.

She turned to face Heart the moment she finished marching into the first drawing room convenient for their confrontation, feeling the heavy burden of silence from the carriage ride home. That silence clung to her like a shadow.

Common wisdom claimed that the ties of family were more important than all others, and Leonora agreed. However, she had reached the precipice of a moment that refused to be contained for much longer. She would suffocate if she remained this way.

“What the devil did you do?” Heart growled. “What the devil happened at the theatre?”

She had lived her life.

“You held his hand! Hand. Palm on palm. Thank God you were wearing gloves. Do you understand how it might still be interpreted?”

Of course.

“How could you allow such a thing?” He dragged both hands through his hair. “You’re an innocent lady!”

I’m really not.

“He is a damnable rake!”

Perhaps not damnable.

“The gossip rags will tear you asunder!”

“ Heart. ”

His glowing eyes fixed on her, his breathing ragged and uneven. Leonora strode over and took his hand in hers and placed it over his heart. “Breathe.”

He inhaled, exhaled, his eyes on her.

“Dare is not the concern here,” she said quietly. Not tonight at least. In the morning, he would become a concern again. The way he had strode from the theatre earlier. The flicker in his gaze in his parting look. She’d dissect it all later. For now, other matters required her attention.

Heart’s brows furrowed. “He is every concern—”

“ Father .”

He jerked back, and her hand fell away. His face lost all color, and even his breathing seemed to stop. Leonora’s pulse, on the other hand, threatened to push from her chest and straight into her throat. She had said it. She had finally said it. Finally called him father.

“Why would you call me that?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Because you are my father.”

“What are you talking about? I’m your—”

“Father. You’re my father.”

“Damn it, Leonora.” Some color returned to his cheeks, but not much. “What do you think you know?”

Leonora stared at his face, and for the first time, she saw more than the role of a brother he had assumed—a man more at a loss than she could have imagined. A man backed farther into a corner she had ever envisioned. “I know you are my father. I’ve known for the past six years.”

“Christ, I need to sit.” He staggered to a chair and plopped down, burying his face in his hands. He glanced at her between his fingers. “How?”

“I overheard you questioning Mama and Papa one evening after dinner about the decision to keep the truth from me. Ironically, that question revealed it to me.”

A tense pause. “Why didn’t you confront us? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Leonora shrugged lightly. “Honestly, I cannot say. At first, for about a second or two, perhaps an hour or two, I felt betrayed. But even as I felt that betrayal, I understood that you all had made the decisions you’d made to protect me. To give me the best life.”

“Christ.” The heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “This is too much.”

Her heart pinched. “Oh, it’s not that much. Simply a truth revealed.”

His head fell back, hands not leaving his face. “I thought you would hate me if you ever discovered the truth.”

Hate him. “I could never hate my family, Heart. I can grapple with what to call you, tease you, argue with you, but never hate you. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you.” She hadn’t wanted to open wounds which appeared to be tearing at him now. This was why she’d never felt confident enough to expose him.

“You should hate me. I was a blackguard. I didn’t do the right thing when it mattered.”

“You mean with my real mother. The Duchess of Crane.”

His hands fell away, and his red eyes stared back at her. “How...?”

“Honestly, it was Calstone.”

“The duke? How . . .”

His confusion brought a small smile to the corner of her lips. “He commented on my uncanny likeness to the duchess. So I suspected, and then you and Mama confirmed my suspicions. And any sliver of doubt I retained, you just dispelled.”

“Mother?”

Leonora bit her lip. “Yes, Mother.”

He stilled, then let out a loud curse. “Grapple with titles, you said. Understood. This is deuced uncomfortable.” He inhaled deeply. “Mother is not in Wales, I take it?”

“You didn’t know?” Leonora asked.

He shook his head. “You spotted her?”

“On my last morning ride.”

A scowl formed on his brow. “The one you had with that ruffian?”

“Let’s not divert from the topic at hand, father .”

“Christ, don’t call me that. My old heart can’t take it.”

Leonora stared at her father. Her brother. Heart. A man fraught with flaws, demons, mistakes. “I don’t blame you for the choices in the past.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t even blame my birth mother.”

“Damn it.” His face fell back into his hands. “If I had done the right thing, none of this would have happened. She would not have been forced to give you up, forced into a marriage she didn’t want, forced to live a life...”

“Heart.”

His entire body clenched up before her eyes. She stepped up to him, lowered to her haunches, pulled his hands from his face.

His dewy eyes met hers.

“Mistakes don’t define your life.” Look at her, ruined in a whole other way than what anyone could ever imagine. A mistake? Perhaps. But only if she chose that it be one. “So look forward, and don’t dwell in a past you cannot change. After all, you are not the same man you were back then, are you? You’ve become a much better man since then. At least, that is how I see it.”

The hands in hers flipped to grip hers tightly. “Cassandra—the duchess—has been wanting to meet you, talk to you, but I have been pushing against it.”

“Because you feared I might discover the truth?”

“That it would be revealed before you made a match.”

Oh, Lord. “You should not worry about that.” Leonora glanced away.

“Do not tell me it’s because of that reprobate?”

No, and yes. “Very well, I won’t tell you it’s that reprobate.”

Though it was true that she had made her choice with him, with their night together, and didn’t regret it. And even though she had never harbored any misgivings about Dare and his character, she would be lying if she claimed there hadn’t been a small smidgeon of hope sprouting in her heart for something more. But this was not a discussion she could ever indulge in! This was but a secret hope, one nestled deep in her heart.

No, Leonora. This is not you.

She didn’t go through life hoping this and that. She acted. She seized. She chased what she wanted. Her gaze dropped to the big hands holdings hers. She understood why Heart always dragged her away from Dare.

He didn’t wish for her to become her mother.

Only it might be too late for that. She’d been ravaged by Rake. Her eyes fell on her belly. She might even be... Her whole body went cold as her brother’s imagined past flashed before her eyes in a tragic, unfortunate set of events. A fate she might now share.

“You’re just as damn stubborn as I,” he said on a mutter.

Ah . Heart. He’d be furious if it were indeed the case. “You do know I love you.”

His fingers tightened on hers. “I love you, too.”

I’m sorry.

I failed to meet your expectations.

*

Dare stirred from a restless sleep by a sharp knock at the door.

“My lord?” the butler called.

He groaned, cracking one eye open. Where the devil was he? Oh, right, he’d come home from the theatre, followed by Knox and Drake. Things got blurry after that. But this wasn’t his chamber. This was... his study? More specifically, the floor of his study.

He pushed himself up, his mind sluggish. Drake was sprawled in his chair, feet resting on the desk, while Knox was half-draped over the sofa. What kind of friends were these? Why should he be on the damn floor of his own home?

Enemies, I tell you.

He rubbed his temples and blinked to clear his foggy vision. His eyes fell on one bootless foot—his—and the cravat tossed beside it—also his. This is why he didn’t drink.

“My lord?”

“What is it, Brett?”

“The Duchess of Crane is seeking an audience, my lord.”

“Send her away.” His eyes snapped wide. “Wait. Send her to the room where we receive people. Give me a minute.” He at least had to wipe the crust from his eyes and find his missing boot. Bloody hell, his temples pounded. But that wasn’t what mattered at the moment.

Leonora’s mother had called on him.

He couldn’t fathom why. Unless... The aftermath of the monkey incident? Christ, he just wanted to forget—all of it. The monkey. Her. The duke.

Dare pushed to his feet, staggering to the door. He swept the room for his boot, but of course, couldn’t find it. To hell with it all. He pulled off the one he still had on. He was in no condition to meet the woman, but he also didn’t care much about his condition, so he’d just go and meet her to see what she wanted.

She rose the moment he entered the receiving room. Her brow furrowed as her gaze moved over him from head to toe, pausing at his stocking feet, a silent commentary he didn’t care to dwell on.

“Your Grace,” he drawled, choosing a spot the farthest away from her—the wall—and leaned against it. “Forgive my appearance.”

“I’m not here for pleasantries, Lord Dare.” The duchess placed a parcel on the table and pushed it toward him.

“What is this?” Nothing good, he’d wager.

“What your cousin desires the most.”

The deed? Christ, the throb in his temples worsened. “Why offer me this?”

“It is not for free.”

Of course not. She would want payment, and it didn’t take a damn genius to guess what. “Do I dare ask the price?”

“Lady Leonora. Never approach her again. Do not speak to her, do not look at her, do not even so much as think about her.”

The last would be a little hard. Impossible, in fact.

Christ, what was the time? He needed sustenance. Coffee. Tea. A piss. Anything. Everything.

“And what is your interest in Lady Leonora? What business is it of yours to demand such a thing?”

“That you do not need to know.”

If only he could forget. “You did not want to give this parcel to Drake before. Why should I be your messenger? And why now? You have always known Drake and I are family.”

“Yes, but your family shunned Drake and his mother. I only learned recently that you, now the head of the family, did not.”

“You shunned him, too.”

“For a reason.”

“His birth?”

She averted her gaze. “No. My husband chased any skirt that brushed past him. I know this better than anyone.” She met his gaze again. “Your cousin made it impossible to give this parcel back before now, that is all.”

Drake, you damn mongrel, what the hell did you do? “How so?”

She pursed her lips, before answering bluntly, “He discovered a secret and made demands.”

“Blackmail.”

“Such a distasteful word, but correct. However, the demand was difficult and the secret... unfortunate. The situation was not straightforward.”

What secret could Drake possibly have discovered that would set the duchess on edge and cause her to dig her heels in the ground?

Dare froze.

Leonora. Leonora was the secret.

Drake, you damn blackguard.

His cousin knew.

He’d always bloody known.

“So you offer me this now in exchange for distancing myself from Lady Leonora?” He let out a dry laugh. “Drake gets what he wants, you get what you want, and I get nothing. Convenient.”

“It does seem unfair, does it not?”

“But you don’t care about that, do you?”

She merely shrugged. “It may not look it, but Heart was once a dear friend of mine. I would hate to see his sister disgraced or ruined because of men like you.” Her voice cooled. “As for the matter of your cousin, all I will say about that is that I’m tired of fighting. I’d rather put the past to bed.”

“You should have put it to bed two years ago. Why now?”

She paused before answering, “I was angry. Angry for a long time. But I’ve come to learn that some things matter far more than clinging to hurts you are better off letting go.”

Now, why did it sound like she was referring to him and Leonora?

“But you don’t just want me to stay away from Lady Leonora, you want my cousin to back down as well, correct?”

She inclined her head. “Once he has the deed, there is no reason for him to keeping fighting. It’s in all our interests to let matters go.”

“I cannot control my cousin.” He could throttle him, however.

“I’m willing to wager you would find a way to do the right thing, to get him to do the right thing.” Dare sighed, and she continued. “I shall give this to you, and all I require is your word.”

His word that he would walk away from Leonora.

“You must hold Heart in high esteem to go this far for him and his family.”

“I am indebted to his family, so yes. Will you accept this offer or not?”

His tongue wouldn’t form the word yes . Every word associated with resistance fought against that yes from rolling off his tongue. It bloody annoyed him, this request, as equally as Drake’s damn puppeteering. He pushed, he prodded, he rattled the tree and let others scramble for falling fruit until they were exhausted. But he never forced an outcome. An impressive ability Dare might have admired, if he hadn’t been caught up in the shake as well.

“Let us dispense with the niceties and come straight to the point. You wish me,” and his family, Drake, “to stay away from your daughter in exchange for this deed of property.” He was no longer in the mood for pretense and roundabout speech.

Her composure slipped. “Your cousin told you.”

“No. She did. Leonora.”

The woman’s face went as pale as a blank sheet of paper. “I beg your pardon?”

“Leonora already knows you are her mother. Or suspects, at least. She knows Heart is her father. She deduced the rest. I shall keep your secret because I have already been keeping it. For her. I will also take that deed.”

She suddenly rose to her feet, rubbing at her sable skirts. “If you know this, then you know why I am asking you to stay away from her.”

He did. He damn well didn’t want to know, but he did.

He was also curious. “How long have you been wearing black?”

“Twenty years.”

Bloody hell.

His gaze dropped to the parcel on the table between them. It shouldn’t be a difficult choice. He had no future with Leonora, no matter the stir she caused in his heart. He had already walked away, had he not? That was certainly his intention at Drury Lane. So why did his fingers tremble at the mere thought of accepting that deed?

But he’d taken her innocence. He couldn’t take any more. Could he?

No.

He couldn’t.

Only pain would follow acting on his stubborn affection. No. It was better for him to bear the pain than her. He would not risk seeing Leonora share the same fate as his mother because he’d failed like his father had. But he could accept this arrangement. He could accept this deed and in return never approach Leonora again.

No matter what price love demanded from him, he would pay it.

“Very well.” He met the duchess’s gaze. “I’ll stay away from Leonora.”