Page 6 of Two Secrets to Surrender (Blackwood Legacy #2)

Chapter Five

A s the carriage rolled away from the spa, Gigi saw her sister-in-law’s mouth open.

“Please don’t lecture me, Xenia,” Gigi blurted. “I know what you witnessed was highly improper, and I was a ninny for allowing it to happen.”

Smoothing out her muted tartan skirts, Xenia gave her a wry look.

“As I am your senior by a mere year and no paragon of virtue myself, I was hardly going to deliver a sermon.”

Gigi exhaled, grateful that she’d gained both a lovely relation and a friend in Xenia. Sensible and sweet, the petite redhead had once worked as Ethan’s housekeeper. She had resisted the relationship because she felt she did not fit in her employer’s upper-class world. The pair had tried to hide their attraction, but Gigi had sensed their connection and tried to nudge things along.

In marrying for love, Ethan had followed the family tradition. Thinking of love, Gigi squirmed against the velvet squabs. That was certainly not what she felt for the Vik—that is, for Conrad Godwin. Yet she’d allowed him to kiss her…again. Why had she done that?

Because you’re a hussy? her inner voice suggested.

She decided to contemplate that revelation about herself later. Or perhaps never. While she didn’t always adhere to the rules of propriety, she tried not to cause her family worry. They had enough concerns, and she didn’t want to add to their burden.

“As I promised your mama that I would look after you in her absence, I must ask what happened.” Xenia studied her with earnest brown eyes. “Who was that man? Do you know him? Why were you so, ahem, familiar with him?”

“His name is Conrad Godwin, and he just introduced himself to me.” This was not a lie; she had only learned the Viking’s identity. “I was testing out the pool, and he appeared out of nowhere. He was looking for Miss Letty as he wants to buy her spa.”

Gigi gnawed on her lower lip. What if Mr. Godwin convinced Letty to sell? He struck Gigi as a man who was used to getting his way.

“Oh, Xenia, I do wish you had let me stay and support Miss Letty?—”

“You were scantily dressed and in a stranger’s arms. How could I let you stay?” Xenia’s brow pleated. “While I don’t come from your social sphere, Gigi, even I know this situation could cause irreparable damage to your reputation. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I don’t know how I shall tell Ethan. And your parents?—”

“But you don’t have to tell them, do you?” Gigi said beseechingly.

Xenia frowned. “You’re not suggesting that I keep a secret from Ethan?”

“Of course not.” Gigi sighed; she would never wish to be a source of conflict. “But Mr. Godwin and I were alone, and no one else was there?—”

“Do not remind me,” Xenia muttered. “Your mama would have my head if she knew about my lapse in chaperonage.”

“Mama would never blame you. She adores you. We all do.”

Xenia’s tremulous smile spoke volumes about what it meant to her to be welcomed into the Harrington fold. Knowing how Xenia had suffered at the hands of the woman who’d birthed her, Gigi didn’t blame her one bit. Nonetheless, she pressed her advantage.

“My point is that there was no one to witness what transpired between Mr. Godwin and me, which I assure you, appeared much more incriminating than it was. I slipped, you see, and he caught me?—”

“And his mouth accidentally landed on yours?”

Gigi had the grace to blush. “Um…”

Xenia drew her brows together. “You are not interested in this fellow, are you?”

“Of course not. How could I be? Like I said, we were only introduced today.”

While Gigi hated not being entirely truthful, she couldn’t bring herself to disclose the encounter at the stream. It felt too private. For months, the Viking had fueled her secret fantasies—fantasies that were too wicked and mortifying to share with anyone, even Xenia.

Although the object of your fantasies is not a Viking, is he? Her inner voice was awfully chatty today. Conrad Godwin is a ruthless businessman who has his sights set on Letty’s property. While the offers his solicitor made seemed generous, he must believe that he can sell it at a profit. Perhaps he means to tear the spa down to build factories or some such thing. For financial gain, he would destroy Chuddums without a second thought.

“He seemed rather taken with you,” Xenia said.

“It was an accident. At the time, he was trying to help…although now he is probably trying to fleece Miss Letty out of her property. Please, please can’t we go back and?—”

“We are almost home. We shall talk to Ethan about the situation, and if he agrees to escort you back?—”

“He will never agree to it,” Gigi said darkly. “He’s more likely to call Mr. Godwin out. Then we’ll have to worry about Ethan getting hurt.”

“Ethan can take care of himself.”

At Xenia’s tart tone, Gigi wanted to kick herself for being thoughtless.

“I didn’t mean to imply that he couldn’t,” she said contritely. “Despite his injury, I know Ethan is capable of managing things.”

Three years ago, during a drunken fit, Owen had injured Ethan’s hand, ending the latter’s career as a piano virtuoso. The rift between the two had nearly torn the family apart, and while Gigi had yearned to help her brothers patch things up, neither took her, their baby sister, very seriously. She’d hated watching the people she loved suffer and being helpless to do anything about it.

Truth be told, the feeling was not new. When Owen had bought his commission and left to fight in Afghanistan, she’d only been twelve years old. After the disastrous retreat from Kabul, he’d been declared missing and likely dead, along with the rest of the English army. Despite their grief and shock, the family hadn’t given up on Owen. Gigi’s parents and brothers had taken turns searching for him in Kabul. Despite begging to be included, Gigi had had to stay home and wait. All she could do was pray every night for Owen’s safe return.

The day Owen returned was one of the happiest in her life.

However, she and the rest of the family soon discovered that the Owen who’d come back to them was not the same one who left. Not that it mattered. Ad Finem Fidelis was the Harrington motto, and she would do anything to help her brother heal. After Owen had injured Ethan, she’d done her best to bring the family back together again. Since Ethan had become a solitary curmudgeon and retreated to Chuddums, she’d concocted a scheme to follow him there.

To her delight, she’d found Ethan improved, thanks to his pretty new housekeeper. Gigi had managed to pull the other family members to Chuddums, and secure in his newfound happiness, Ethan had forgiven Owen for what the latter had done…even if, Gigi suspected, Owen had not forgiven himself. Nonetheless, it was a step in the right direction, and Gigi hoped that, with time, her family’s wounds would be fully healed.

“I know you have faith in Ethan, Gigi.” Xenia’s expression softened. “Which is why you must tell him about this Godwin fellow. As I’ve said, I know next to nothing of the upper crust’s rules, and if your brother judges that the situation will not harm your reputation, then I am certain he will escort you back to the spa himself.”

“Mr. Godwin could be gone by then. With the deed to the spa in his pocket!”

“While I do not know Miss Letty as well as you, she strikes me as a woman who knows her own mind. She will not be pushed in to doing something she does not wish to do.”

Letty did have a spine of steel. Nonetheless…

“What if he offers her gobs of money? From what I’ve read, he’s richer than Croesus.”

“If Miss Letty wants his gobs of money, don’t you wish for her to have it?”

“I suppose.” Gigi expelled a breath. “What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t support her choices? It is just that she and I have worked so hard to restore the spa. Now it’s nearly ready, and I know if given a chance, the place will thrive and bring Chuddums the recognition it deserves.”

“You’ve grown attached to Chuddums, haven’t you?”

“From the start, coming here felt like coming home,” Gigi admitted. “I cannot explain it.”

“You do not have to, dear.” A smile tucked into Xenia’s cheeks, and she reached over to squeeze Gigi’s hand. “For I felt the same way.”

As Brunswick, the butler, ushered them into Ethan and Xenia’s beautifully restored manor, Gigi immediately felt the tension in the air. For years, locals had claimed that Bottoms House was haunted, and even after the sightings of Bloody Thom had proved to be a hoax, Gigi believed that there was a presence in the manor. It was like an invisible, spiritual miasma that heightened one’s awareness of feelings.

Gigi had always been intuitive, but here in the manor she felt everything more keenly. The passionate and nurturing love between Ethan and Xenia. The abiding devotion between her parents and their relief that Ethan had found the woman of his dreams and happiness at long last. Gigi even sensed undercurrents from James, who typically hid his emotions behind stoicism and dry wit. Honestly, it was unsettling to realize that her confident, eldest brother and responsible heir was a bit…lost.

It was Owen, however, who concerned her the most. Before the war, he’d worn his emotions on his sleeve, and now his youthful exuberance had been tempered into something darker and harder, with lethal edges that could hurt anyone who dared to come near…as Ethan had learned at great cost. Most of the time, Owen’s pain was a blade turned inward, and at that moment, in the unnatural stillness, Gigi felt his emotions bleeding through the manor.

“Has something happened, Brunswick?” Xenia said worriedly.

Gigi was not surprised that her sister-in-law sensed it too. Brunswick, who’d been with Ethan for as long as Gigi could recall, was a mastiff of a fellow with deep wrinkles and sagging jowls. His gruff manner belied a gentle heart. When she was younger, he’d given her comfits whenever she visited Ethan in London.

“I’m afraid there was a disagreement, my lady,” Brunswick said gloomily. “Between the master and Lord Owen.”

“Is Ethan in his study?” Gigi asked.

Xenia did not wait for an answer, hurrying toward Ethan’s private sanctuary without bothering to remove her gloves or coat.

Alone with Brunswick, Gigi said, “How bad was it?”

“Not the worst it has been,” Brunswick replied.

“I hope that is not your best attempt at optimism.”

The butler sighed. “But it is the worst argument they’ve had since Lord Owen came to stay.”

“What did my brothers fight over this time?” she asked quietly.

Brunswick hesitated, his loyalty ingrained.

“The master had planned to go riding with Lord Owen this morning,” he said. “When Lord Owen did not come down, Lord Ethan went to his bedchamber. From what I could gather, Lord Owen had been drinking last night.”

Icy dread percolated through Gigi. While Owen’s moods had been unpredictable since returning from war, alcohol brought out the worst of his demons. It made him belligerent, angry, and self-destructive. Often, he would go on binges, drinking heavily and indulging in behaviors she wasn’t supposed to know about but did because she’d eavesdropped on Papa lecturing him to stay away from brothels and gaming hells. More than once, Mama and Papa had taken Owen to the country seat in Hertfordshire to keep him away from bad influences. Owen would become sober and abstain for months, but then something would trigger him to start drinking again.

Since his return from Afghanistan, Owen had repeated this cycle…until he came to Chuddums. Five months ago, he, along with the rest of the family, had come to help Ethan in a time of need. In Chuddums, Owen had been different, and Gigi had felt it…felt her brother’s desperate desire to change and make amends to Ethan. He hadn’t touched spirits the entire time, not even at the wedding, and Gigi had been hopeful that he’d finally turned a corner.

“He promised he was done with drinking,” she said haltingly. “After Ethan and Xenia wed, he made a vow in front of the family. He…he made a joke of it, saying that he was taking Ethan’s lead and shackling himself. Not to a wife but to sobriety.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“He promised .”

“Sometimes, when a man is not in full possession of himself, he cannot make such promises,” Brunswick said with obvious care.

“If Owen cannot make the change, then who can? Who can do it for him?” Shaking her head, she went to the stairwell. “I must speak with him.”

“Are you certain that’s wise, Lady Gigi? He’s in a state?—”

But she was already halfway up the stairs, her skirts swishing with the urgency of her mission. She had to talk some sense into Owen. Had to make him understand the damage he was doing to himself and the family. Had to find some way to get through to him…to help him.

She traversed the paneled corridor to the guest bedchamber where Owen was staying. She was about to knock and stopped, her hand raised mid-air, when she heard a sound coming from within. Her pulse racing, she pressed her ear to the door. The sound of anguished weeping brought heat to her eyes, and her fist melted, her fingers brushing against the door.

“Owen?” she said, her throat tight. “It’s me, Gigi. Let me in.”

A pause before Owen’s hoarse voice emerged. “Go away.”

“Let me in, and we can talk?—”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I want to be left alone.”

“But you shouldn’t be alone. And I am here,” she said helplessly. “I want to help.”

“You cannot help. You’re a sheltered girl who knows nothing of the world and how bloody brutal it can be.”

“I can listen. I can understand?—”

“You cannot possibly understand. I am not one of your goddamned projects. For Christ’s sake, just leave me be .”

Hearing the threads of rage woven into Owen’s voice, Gigi knew further argument was pointless. Instead, she sank to the ground. Laying her cheek against the door, she listened to her brother’s despair and wept silently with him.