Page 8 of Love Thy Enemy (The Vaughns #4)

T essa’s breath caught, and prickles ran down her spine like a lightning rod. She blinked once. Twice. Everything inside her yearned to move, but she sat still—too still—as though the slightest shift might betray the surge of surprise that coursed through her veins.

Surely, Mr. Vaughn hadn’t known Rodney and her family. But as quickly as that thought popped into her mind, Tessa brushed it away. In a village like Thornsby, everyone knew everyone. No doubt, Mr. Vaughn had heard of Rodney’s passing and connected it to Tessa’s surname.

Yet what had her husband told the others about their situation? One’s good name was a commodity as precious as gold, and Tessa could well imagine the questions that had arisen when he established himself in the village without his wife—and the stories that Rodney had spread as a result.

Heat licked at her cheeks and swept through her, and Tessa fought to steady her pulse. “Then you know my family, Mr. Vaughn?”

All the light and warmth of a moment ago vanished like a snuffed candle.

The gentleman didn’t speak, and she felt him withdraw inside himself as the silence that followed took shape and sharpened like a blade.

This wasn’t like the quiet that Sir Stoneface had once preferred; it hummed with unease as his eyes narrowed on her.

Good gracious. He’d known Rodney.

Tessa felt it in the intensity of his gaze as it bore into her, and she tried to remind herself that this was to be expected.

Rodney wouldn’t have lived there for years without weaving some version of his story into the local fabric, and he’d never been the sort to keep his opinions to himself, especially when they cast him as the injured party.

And from the moment Tessa had planned this journey, she’d known her reception would be cold. Frigid, even.

Yet how much had Rodney told them? How much kindling had he laid for her pyre? And what could she say or do to keep the sparks from igniting it?

Tessa schooled her expression, her pulse quickening until she felt it in her neck, and forced herself to remain calm.

This conversation was no different from the one they’d shared over the last few hours.

She would not flinch. But oh, how she wanted to know what Mr. Vaughn saw when he looked at her now.

Shifting slightly in her seat, Tessa cleared her throat and pondered what to say to secure his good opinion.

The moment she set foot in Thornbsy, turmoil would follow.

It was inevitable. Regaining her children’s affections would be an ordeal, and having even a single ally in Thornsby would be a great blessing.

“Mr. Vaughn,” she said, smoothing her skirts, “I won’t pretend to misunderstand your reaction. Clearly, you are familiar with my husband and may know something of our troubles. However, I would have you know—”

“No, Mrs. Stuart,” said the gentleman with a tone that was as unyielding as Sir Stoneface’s expression had been. All traces of Mr. Vaughn, affable businessman, vanished as cold seeped into the carriage. “I do not need to know anything you have to say.”

His tone felt as final as a death knell, marking the end of her hopes.

Mr. Vaughn’s reaction spoke of one far more familiar with the “situation” than was good for Tessa.

This was not the firmness of one who had heard whispers or had noted the blaring absence of the Stuart matriarch and leapt to conclusions.

The level of marked disgust that curled his lips and sharpened his gaze was reserved only for the truly appalled.

Whatever rapport they’d shared vanished, swept aside in the wake of her husband’s gossipmongering.

“I do not know what you mean to accomplish in Thornsby, Mrs. Stuart,” he said, spitting out her surname with such venom that it struck Tessa to the heart, “but you had best take the first carriage back to Leeds and abandon your games, madam.”

“This is no game,” she replied, forcing her spine up. “My children reside in Thornsby, and I am here for their sake. Not that it is any of your business, for all that you have strong opinions on the matter, sir.”

Fingers strangling the fabric of her skirt, Tessa felt an old familiar stirring in her chest; like an anxious puppy, it scratched and clawed at the barriers she’d placed around it, locking it firmly out of sight.

But she wouldn’t give in to it. After having allowed it to shape far too much of her life, Tessa wouldn’t allow her temper free rein again. She was better than that.

“For your children’s sake, do not seek them out,” replied Mr. Vaughn. “They have suffered enough and do not deserve to have their pain compounded by you making them a source of speculation and gossip.”

That clawing feeling intensified, scratching at her chest. He knew no better. That was all. She’d known Rodney would spread lies about her, so there was no point in losing her composure when she’d known the battle to follow would be difficult to win.

But she hadn’t anticipated a skirmish so soon. And with a passing villager.

Tessa met the gentleman’s eyes, refusing to shrink away from the fire burning in those dark depths. “I do not know what my husband has said, sir, but there are two sides to every story—”

Mr. Vaughn scoffed. “Is there any version in which I will feel empathy for a woman who abandons her children?”

The walls of the carriage rattled, shaking as thoroughly as Tessa’s heart.

Clenching her hands, she forced her anger to remain within the bounds she’d set.

She was the ruler of her feelings. Her own mistress.

She would not allow another to gain control over her.

But as much as she tried to reassure herself of those truths, she felt her hold slipping.

“Again, I do not know what you have heard, Mr. Vaughn, nor do I comprehend what business it is of yours to treat me so abominably, but you haven’t the foggiest notion what transpired between me and my husband or what I have suffered—”

Mr. Vaughn gave another heavy huff as he gazed upon her as though she were the vilest of creatures.

“There may be two sides to every story, and I will concede that there is often truth to be found in both, but if even a fraction of what Rodney told me was true, you deserve that ‘suffering.’ I have no patience for those who abandon their duties for their own selfish desires.”

Turning his gaze back to the window, he clenched his jaw.

“And spare me your justifications, Mrs. Stuart. Rodney was a good man who doted on his children—whose very last thoughts were of them and their well-being. You are the woman who made a mockery of your marriage and abandoned your children to gallivant about the country. So, do not think you can appear after so long an absence and demand my respect and understanding. I know what you are, Mrs. Stuart, and I will do everything in my power to protect the children from you.”

Tessa stared at the man, the shock of his words ringing through her. Truly, fate could not be so cruel as to place her in this situation. Surely it could not. Yet as she examined his words and tone, her temper drifted into the nether as realization settled heavily in her heart.

This was her children’s guardian.

The roundabout manner in which she had heard of Rodney’s passing hadn’t included any insight into who it was, except that it wasn’t her.

And Mr. Vaughn spoke as one who was intimately aware of the situation.

Rodney certainly wouldn’t have spared his friend all the sordid details—most especially those that painted her in a poor light.

Mouth agape, Tessa struggled to gather her wits, but before she could settle her control back in place, the carriage pulled to a stop. They had arrived.

The door opened, and Mr. Vaughn emerged, leaving her gaping at the carriage wall.

She couldn’t leave it like this. Of all the people in Thornsby, this was the one she needed to win over.

The man who controlled her children’s very existence.

Who had the power to keep them from her, no matter what she or they wished.

Who could move them to the farthest reaches of the globe if it suited him.

Pushing herself forward, Tessa scrambled out of the carriage behind him, emerging to see him engulfed by three girls. Her heart stuttered to a halt, freezing between one beat and the next and holding her in place as she watched the trio greet their guardian.

It had been six years since she’d laid eyes on Faith, yet the quiet and self-contained child Tessa had known remained.

Grown, to be certain, but she clung to Mr. Vaughn’s coattails as though hoping to disappear into his shadow.

And Tessa couldn’t help smiling at the sight of the book in her hands; she couldn’t say what the title was, but the tightness of Faith’s grasp and the worn edges of the cover made it clear she hadn’t grown out of her love of stories.

And Daphne. The child she’d known had been replaced with a young lady, full of the bashful grace of one on the cusp of adulthood.

Having inherited her father’s height and frame, she was elegant even as she corralled Eva, doing her best to keep that little whirlwind in order as she bounced around the others, words flowing from her mouth with such rapidity that she more than made up for Faith’s taciturnness.

To hear little Eva speak drove daggers into Tessa’s heart.

The last she’d seen of the child, Eva had only begun to form proper words and small sentences.

Yet it was so entirely fitting that the babe who had spent her days babbling nonsense at everyone and everything had continued to do so once she possessed the words to properly speak.

But where were the boys? Tessa glanced about, searching the crowd for their familiar faces—only to realize that they were of an age where they must be at school. Her boys.

“Aren’t you surprised, Mr. Gregory?” asked Eva, bouncing on her toes as she threw her arms around the gentleman’s waist. “Faith said we ought to wait until you arrived home, but I thought it would be a great surprise to meet you here. Aren’t you glad we did?”

“You ought to be home with your lessons,” said Mr. Vaughn, and though there was a coldness to his expression that set Tessa’s pulse racing, Eva met that with a laugh as she spoke of the governess they’d escaped for the afternoon.

And for all his stony mannerisms, Mr. Vaughn watched her with a warmth in his gaze that settled deep into Tessa’s bones. If nothing else, her girls were loved.

“What is she doing here?” demanded Daphne.

*

Stomach sinking to his toes, Gregory motioned the girls toward the carriage; he needed to get them away from here before Mrs. Stuart caused a scene, but Daphne refused to budge as she stared at her mother.

Seeing the pair in such proximity, Gregory wondered how he hadn’t guessed his companion’s identity.

Though Daphne boasted her father’s height and thinner frame, her features and coloring were so very like her mother’s—more so than the others, though Faith had Mrs. Stuart’s rounder visage.

And with Daphne’s temper sparked, the similarities were even more pronounced.

“Ignore her,” said Gregory.

Those eyes, which were the same unfathomable brown as Mrs. Stuart’s, turned on him, and the temper within crackled and sparked like the first flames of a brandy-soaked Christmas pudding.

“Did you bring her here?” demanded Daphne.

Gregory held up his hands. “Of course not. And I will make certain she doesn’t plague you. Do not fret—”

“Please, Mr. Vaughn,” said Mrs. Stuart, drawing closer, and it took all of Gregory’s composure not to bark at the lady and drag the girls out of arm’s reach.

“Do not speak to them, madam,” he said, forcing his voice to lower. Mustering every ounce of determination and strength he possessed, Gregory infused his gaze with steel.

“But I am their mother,” she hissed.

Stepping between her and the girls, Gregory scowled. “You gave up that title when you tossed them aside—”

“I didn’t, you great lummox!” shouted Mrs. Stuart. “I would never do such a thing!”

“Which is why you haven’t set foot in Thornsby until today. I assure you that Stuart’s money is out of your grasp, no matter how much you feign interest in your children. You will not get control of them or Stuart’s estate.”

“I—”

“Leave!” Daphne stiffened at her outburst, her hands flying to her mouth, though her eyes continued to burn as she glared at her mother. When she lowered them again, she spoke softly as she held Eva’s hand tight within her grasp. “Please leave. We do not want you here.”