Christine Merrill

Regency Temptation: The Greatest of Sins / The Fall of a Saint


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that we meet. The suggestion that I take you on.’ St Aldric was grinning at him again. ‘For a time, I quite thought that there was something else to it. But now it is clear. You will be as a double brother to her. And dear to both of us.’

      If St Aldric had his way, Sam would be just as separate as he had always been from the one woman he wanted and forced for ever into her company. ‘You presume far too much, your Grace.’ He pulled away from the man who held him and shook the wrinkles from his coat as a distraction from the thoughts racing in his head.

      ‘You are an ungrateful brat, Sam.’ After what he had done, Thorne seemed to think he had a right to an opinion.

      Sam turned his anger on the more deserving target. ‘You have no right to lecture me on it, now that the truth is out. What are you to me, sir, after all this time?’

      ‘Only the man who raised you,’ Thorne said.

      ‘And fed me on lies like they were mother’s milk,’ Sam snapped back. ‘For Evie’s sake, we will not discuss the extent of your perfidy. But do not think I forgive you for it.’

      Thorne’s eyes widened. ‘She is my only child. I did what was best for her and for you as well.’

      From the other side of the room, Sam heard a soft clearing of a throat and remembered that they were not alone with the argument. He turned back towards the duke and stared at the man in silence. Did St Aldric really think it was an honour to be so abandoned by one’s father that one had no identity at all? Then Sam had been wrong about him. The man was a fool.

      ‘I can see that it will take some time for us to get used to the knowledge that has been imparted, and to digest the change and decide what best to do about it,’ St Aldric said, still the soul of diplomacy. It was clear that he did not think himself in need of delay, but he meant to hold his tongue and bide his time for the sake of his brother. He reached out a hand and patted Thorne upon the back. ‘Thank you, for my father and myself, for the service you have done my family and for revealing it to us now.’ They were the right words for the circumstance and it made Sam feel all the smaller for his petulance, no matter how justified it might have been. ‘And now, if you gentlemen will excuse me?’ He gave a gracious nod as though he had already heard the affirmative response and excused himself from the room.

      Thorne stared at Sam and let out a hiss of disapproval. ‘You might be the son of a duke, Hastings, but it is clear that you have inherited none of that family’s grace. Evelyn was right to choose St Aldric over you, for you are behaving just as I assumed you would.’

      ‘Thank you for confirming that,’ Sam said.

      ‘Her happiness has been all that mattered, to me, from the first. And you were never meant to be a part of that.’ Thorne was smiling in triumph, like a priest in the throes of religious mania. ‘Go ahead. Run to her. Tell her everything. Try to turn her against me. See if she thanks you for it.’

      Evie looked at her father with the adoration of an only daughter. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. To hear otherwise would crush her. Sam shook his head. ‘No, Thorne. I do not think so. I would have to be willing to break Evie’s heart and claim it is for her own good. The day I do that is the day I prove I am truly your son.’

      After leaving Thorne, Sam still wanted a drink. In a case like this, Dr Hastings would prescribe a brandy for shock. That and a chance to sit down and sort this through without people prying through the contents of his head. ‘Physician, heal thyself,’ he muttered and headed towards the decanter in the library.

      When his nerves were settled, he would find Evie. He must apologise for his words in the garden. As soon as they had cleared the air of that, he could persuade her to cry off on the engagement and come away with him. She had offered once to run to Gretna with him. It would have to do. There was no time for a proper courtship and banns.

      He must get her out of London before the scandal broke. And, even more important, he must get her away from this house. He had been able to manage a chilly respect when he’d believed Thorne was his father. But he owed that man nothing at all now. He had not been taken in out of love or charity, or for any bond of family. His presence here had been to curry favour with old St Aldric. It was nothing more than that. It was only a matter of time before he shouted those words in Thorne’s face, along with the ugliness that Sam had believed to be the truth.

      Evie must never know of that. Thorne had been trying, in his own sick way, to protect her. If Sam was to be her husband, that task would fall to him. And he would make a better job of it.

      ‘Hastings!’

      Sam flinched. His newfound brother had been waiting for him in the hall, eager to continue the conversation. He turned stiffly. ‘Your Grace.’

      St Aldric looked faintly amused. ‘You cannot avoid me for the rest of your life, you know. Not if I mean to claim you as family.’

      Perhaps not. But he was tempted to try. ‘I am not avoiding you,’ he said cautiously. ‘I thought you meant to let things settle, before talking again.’

      ‘How long is that likely to take?’ St Aldric asked. Apparently, he thought a few moments were long enough to re-order one’s whole understanding of life.

      ‘It was a considerable shock to me, to learn the truth after all this time.’

      St Aldric nodded. ‘I suppose I cannot really imagine, any more than you could imagine my life.’

      ‘My presence or absence could not really matter so much to it,’ Sam said, drily.

      The duke seemed surprised. ‘On the contrary. Although I can afford almost any luxury, this was one thing that I knew to be ever out of my reach. One cannot purchase a brother.’

      Any more than one could cease to have a sister. But it had just happened to Sam. He looked at the duke again, trying to raise some of the filial emotion that the man hoped for. He felt only jealousy. ‘It takes more than blood to create such a link.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ the duke allowed. ‘But I see no reason why the two of us might not at least become friends.’

      If he saw no reason, he was deliberately being obtuse. But then, when they had met, the duke had assumed a bond existed between Sam and Evie. Sam had denied it and relinquished all claim on her. He could not suddenly reverse the position without explaining his reasons.

      He did not want to become like Thorne, willing to say anything to achieve his ends. The shame of his earlier beliefs would die quietly, assuming he did not speak of them to all and sundry. Newfound kinship did not entitle St Aldric to every sordid detail of Sam’s past.

      In his mind, he transferred the cordial indifference he had shared with Thorne to his new family and gave a respectful nod. ‘I am sorry. You are correct. I am being unreasonable about the situation.’

      ‘As you said, it was a shock,’ the duke reminded him. ‘You can hardly be expected to take it calmly. Your temper does not offend me in the least. Certain latitudes of personality are permitted. In families.’ The words made him grin again, showing that he felt no reservations at all in the discovery. It was yet another example of the man’s superior nature.

      And it was tiresome in the extreme. ‘All the same, I apologise,’ Sam said, grudgingly.

      ‘Apology accepted,’ said the duke. There was no corresponding apology, of course, because the man never did anything to need one. He was, as he had been from the first, perfect.

      But now he was engaged to Evelyn.

      ‘Now that we have settled that, you must excuse me,’ Sam said, suddenly sure that if he had to look into the handsome face and listen to one more sensible word he would fall on the duke like an animal and beat him senseless.

      ‘A moment.’ St Aldric held up a single finger, as though