Page 24 of Two Secrets to Surrender (Blackwood Legacy #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

“ H e didn’t,” Duffy breathed.

“He did.” Gigi gave the pink satin she was examining an annoyed twitch. “He said he’s going back to London to ‘handle the matter’ and left the room without another word. Who knows if he’ll even say farewell? At any rate, I am done with the bounder.”

“You don’t mean that. And I’m certain he will contact you before he leaves.”

Duffy cast a discreet look around his shop, and Gigi did the same. After Rawlins shared yesterday that talk of the village’s curse had been reignited, she had decided to visit Chuddums and try to put out fires. Mama had joined her on the mission. When they ran into friends from London at the tea shop and the milliner’s, they’d laughed off the curse as an old wives’ tale used to scare small children. Gigi had emphasized the true moral of the story: the love between Thomas Mulligan and his Rosalinda. With any luck, their efforts were paying off. At present, Mama was a few rows down, chatting with another acquaintance.

“What makes you so certain about Mr. Godwin?” Gigi asked.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Like you’re the only thing worth seeing and he resents having to tear his gaze from you for even an instant. That fellow is as head over heels for you,” Duffy said quietly, “as you are for him.”

“I am not in love with him.”

When Duffy arched a brow, she huffed out a breath.

“All right, I was beginning to fall for him and thought we were coming to an understanding. But that is over now.” She buried the pain beneath indignation. “Clearly, he has been keeping secrets from me. There have been two attempts on his life, and he will not even tell me who his enemies are.”

Although Mr. Rawlins had cautioned that it was best to refer to the incident as an “accident” for now, she had shared the truth with her friend, whose discretion could be trusted.

“Perhaps Mr. Godwin has issues with trust,” Duffy said.

“ Perhaps ?” Gigi squinted at him.

“I was trying to be optimistic. Have you confronted him about it?”

“Since I foolishly told my parents that Mr. Godwin and I had formed an attachment, they are watching me like hawks,” Gigi muttered. “They’ll never let me be alone in his company. The only reason they let me out of the manor today was because of exigent circumstances.”

“The talk of Bloody Thom is everywhere,” Duffy confirmed. “I’ve had half a dozen ladies from London ask if I’ve seen him myself.”

“What did you say?”

“I told them that the actual legend is about the healing power of love.”

“A perfect reply. How did they respond?”

“Well, I’ve had two proposals to elope to Gretna Green.”

At her friend’s wry expression, Gigi giggled.

“I think the only blacksmith’s anvil you wish to visit is the one here in Chuddums,” she said in a teasing whisper. “During the gala, I saw you and Mr. Keane crossing paths at the pump.”

Her handsome, charming, urbane friend turned a telltale shade of red. “We, er, talked.”

“It went well?”

“Rather.”

“Oh, Duffy. I am so happy for you.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, and they exchanged giddy smiles.

“I had best be on my way,” she said. “Even with the clean-up completed, Miss Letty is having trouble convincing guests to return. Mama and I thought that if we spent the afternoon at the spa, others might follow suit.”

“A splendid idea,” Duffy said. “I shall spread the word that the bath is fully operational. It will take more than a curse—or attempted murder—to keep Chuddums down.”

Mama suggested walking to the spa, and even though Gigi knew what was coming, she agreed. They strolled through the village green, where the obelisk dedicated to Abel Pearce cast a long and gloomy shadow.

“I cannot believe Ethan contributed to that monstrosity,” Mama said.

“He regrets it.” Shivering, Gigi felt the monument’s darkness pass over her as they walked by. “He was merely trying to get rid of Mrs. Pearce.”

They continued along the square. A few enterprising villagers had set up barrows to sell goods to tourists, and the air was scented with roasting chestnuts and freshly baked pies. Outside the Briarbush, Mr. Thornton was doing brisk business selling cups of steaming mulled cider. Wally, wearing an eye-catching fuchsia coat, stood on a crate giving free lectures about “historic sites,” including the old churchyard and the abandoned mill on the outskirts. Now and again, Gigi and her mama stopped to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances, making sure to share where they were headed. When they turned onto Spring Lane, the crowd had thinned and it was just the two of them.

“What has happened to us, Gigi?”

The non sequitur caught her off guard.

“How do you mean, Mama?” she asked warily.

“You used to trust me.”

Gigi could manage Papa’s sternness. Being the youngest and his only daughter, she knew he had a soft-as-pudding spot for her. Yet she had no defense against the hurt in her mama’s eyes.

“I do trust you,” she said.

“Then why will you not confide in me about Mr. Godwin?”

Because I do not think you will approve. Because my feelings are too confusing. Because I think…I think I’ve fallen in love with him, and I don’t know if it is a mistake.

“It is complicated,” she hedged.

“Trust me when I say that I am capable of understanding complicated matters of the heart.”

“But you and Papa have the perfect marriage.”

To Gigi’s surprise, Mama laughed. “Nothing is ever perfect, dearest.”

“You two are,” she returned. “All of Society says you are soulmates, destined to be with one another. I am certain neither you nor Papa have ever doubted your love for one another.”

“While it is true that I fell in love with your papa the very first time we met”—Mama’s mouth curved with nostalgia—“like any road worth traveling, every relationship has its bumps. I have always fancied myself a modern mama, the kind a daughter would unburden herself to. I hope I have not been harboring a delusion.”

“You haven’t. You are the most accommodating of mamas.”

“Then talk to me, dearest girl, as you always have.”

After a moment, she blurted, “Do you think it’s wrong for me to like Mr. Godwin?”

“When it comes to relationships, right and wrong are seldom simple.” Her mama’s expression held no judgment. “Does he return your feelings?”

“I think so—or thought so, rather.” She nudged a pebble aside with her shoe. “Since this recent attempt on his life, he has been increasingly distant. You were there: he will not even discuss his suspicions concerning people who might want him dead.”

“His tendency to keep secrets is worrisome.”

Hearing the flatness of her mama’s tone, she said hastily, “Mr. Godwin is not always like this. In fact, he can be quite open.”

She thought of their easy, natural intimacy during the billiards game. She’d told him things she hadn’t told anyone else. She couldn’t reveal her forbidden trysts to her mama, however…and especially not the naughty secrets she and Conrad had shared.

“How much do you know about Mr. Godwin’s past?”

“He has shared some of it.” She glanced at her mama. “Promise you will not judge him by his origins.”

“When have you known me to be a snob?” Mama looked a bit miffed.

“Well, Papa did say that Mr. Godwin doesn’t belong in our world?—”

“What Papa meant was that Mr. Godwin lives by a different set of values,” Mama explained. “To your father, nothing is as important as a man’s character. Any suitor of yours must be a gentleman of honor . It is Mr. Godwin’s reputation as a man of ruthless ambition that concerns Papa, not his lack of a title.”

Ashamed, Gigi said, “I ought to have known that is what Papa meant. I am sorry I misunderstood.”

“I share your father’s concerns, my dear. As it stands, Papa has taken a dislike to Mr. Godwin, and it will take much convincing to change his mind.”

“And you, Mama?” Gigi asked in a small voice. “Could you bring yourself to like Mr. Godwin, even a little bit?”

“I do not know him well enough,” Mama said frankly. “And my concern is that he has not been honest with you.”

“He hasn’t lied to me,” Gigi protested.

“Lying by omission is still lying, my dear. He failed to mention the intrigues he is embroiled in. His presence in your life puts you at risk, and you were not even aware of it.”

“He would never endanger me. He is very protective. As for the other details…it takes him a while to trust, that is all. He has been fending for himself for most of his life, and it is a difficult habit to change.”

“If Mr. Godwin’s mistrust is a result of his past, then I believe that habit can be changed,” Mama allowed. “ If he is willing. What do you know of his background?”

“He doesn’t have much family to speak of. His parents passed when he was young, and his guardian put him in boarding school. His siblings are deceased. When he became an adult, he found success as a prizefighter—that was how he got his stake to begin investing.”

“That explains the scars on his hands,” Mama murmured.

Of course, Mama would notice; she noticed everything.

“He also told me that he’d suffered a romantic disappointment,” Gigi disclosed. “But he thinks I am different. He says I am loyal, brave, and resourceful.”

“It is a positive sign that he values your finer qualities. But what about him? Are his intentions honorable, Gigi?”

“They are. Which is why, um, I asked Miss Letty to introduce you at the gala.”

“I had a feeling you were behind the introductions. In the future, you may skip the machinations and come straight to Papa and me.”

“I shall,” she said contritely. “Would you…would you approve of Mr. Godwin’s suit?”

“Of all my children, you are the one who has always known her own heart,” Mama said after a moment. “Since you were a little girl, you knew exactly what you wanted. Now that you are a woman, how could I trust your instincts any less?”

Warmth flooded Gigi.

“However, this is your future we are discussing, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are making a fully informed decision. If Mr. Godwin wishes to have an audience with Papa and me, he must first meet a condition.”

She tilted her head. “What condition?”

“He must be willing to disclose his secrets.”

Knowing Conrad’s guarded nature, she asked uneasily, “You mean about his enemies?”

“About everything ,” Mama said emphatically. “As you’ve noted, Mr. Godwin is a complicated fellow with an unconventional history. It should come as no surprise to you that he harbors demons from his past.”

While many attributed Mama’s social success to charm, Gigi knew it was, in fact, rooted in perspicacity. She thought of Conrad’s nightmare in the caldarium, the pain and terror that had oozed from him. Of his apology and admission that he hadn’t expected her to return for him. Were those demons of mistrust contributing to his distant behavior now?

“I shall convince him to share more with me,” she said.

“He must share it all,” Mama said severely. “If I know anything about demons, it is this: they thrive in secrecy but cannot survive in the light.”

A shadow passed through Mama’s eyes, and Gigi thought she must be thinking about Owen. Of the period her brother still refused to talk about—that fueled his nightmares and destructive behaviors.

“I am not afraid of demons,” Gigi said softly. “I would take them on for the people I love.”

“You have always been the brightest of flames, my dear girl.” Mama cupped her cheek, looking her in the eye. “However, Mr. Godwin is not another one of your projects. Whatever happened in his past, he is an adult now, and it is up to him to make the right choices. The ones that would make him worthy of you.”

At the spa, Mama declined to use the caldarium.

“Go on without me, Gigi. At my age, the last thing I wish to subject myself to is an episode of overwhelming heat.” She gave a delicate shudder. “I shall content myself with swimming and lounging.”

Thus, after changing into a linen shift, Gigi entered the caldarium alone. It was cozy and warm, comfortably lit by several new wall sconces. She settled on the stone platform, and the heated surface melted away some of her tension.

Nonetheless, worries whirled.

What secrets is Conrad keeping from me? Would he be willing to lay all his cards on the table? What if my family refuses to accept him…what will I do?

Eventually, she drifted into a state of drowsy unrest. Half-formed images filled her head: a letter crumpling in a fist, tears rolling like rain, shadows falling and falling. Feeling darkness cover her, she trembled, but warm knuckles tenderly brushed her cheek. With a sigh, she leaned into the masculine touch, and the instant she did, it went from comforting to arousing. He fingered the line of her throat, and when he grazed the tip of her breast, pleasure spilled through her so convincingly that she opened her eyes.

And blinked.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted.