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Authors: Natasha Blackthorne
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she would—find a way to fit into Grey’s world. Things had to work out with Grey. They just had to.
* * * *
“This is your last chance to reconsider, Mr Sexton.”
In Mrs Hazelwood’s study, under her sharp stare, Grey shifted in his chair. What the devil did she mean, reconsider? Did she honestly think he was the kind of gentleman who would reconsider a sacred commitment once made? That he wouldn’t have thought of all the counterpoints before committing? With her advanced age and gender in mind, he bit back a sharp retort and fixed her with a level gaze. “I assure you, I have no desire to reconsider.”
And he truly didn’t. With the heat of anger drained from his blood, he knew that he and Beth needed only to get through this night. To stay on target with their original goal and not let their heated emotions get the better of them. Beth would feel more secure with things made official between them. She’d settle back down. “It is her extraordinary beauty that draws you, I know.”
“Yes, she is beautiful—exquisitely so,” Grey replied. He’d be damned if he’d explain himself to the woman. The aged blue eyes flickered coldly with a hint of superior contempt. An eerie echo of the sneering contempt in Beth’s eyes when she spoke of her own beauty or appeal to men. “She’s bastard-born. The child of my servant.”
He flinched, finding the sound of the word ‘bastard’ spoken in reference to Beth a very ugly thing. And what the devil sort of conversation was this, anyhow? The woman was supposed to be Beth’s advocate. “I know—both you and Beth have impressed this fact on me repeatedly.”
“Then why must you do this to her?” Mrs Hazelwood leant forward, her ice-blue gaze seeming to pierce into his very soul. She sighed and clapped her hands softly together. “Ah, but you will not relent in your quest to possess such beauty. Not even when she has neither the breeding nor the temperament to fit into your world. You do not know her as I do. She can be impulsive, driven by emotion—”
“I think you have said enough.” He compressed his lips.
Mrs Hazelwood held up one hand. “No, you only know half the story. Let me tell you about the parts we covered over. How her mother grew wild. How that cunning, common little harlot cozened all that money out of us for Beth’s care. How we found Beth neglected and ill with fever in her cradle. We took Beth from Alice. She didn’t fight us. She had a new protector. She wasn’t particularly pretty but she was petite and well made. Such a quiet, meek thing she was.” Mrs Hazelwood arched a brow. “I believe I am of an age where I may speak frankly to a gentleman.”
He nodded curtly, shifting in his seat.
“I did not realise it when I hired Alice but she was a siren tempting men to sin. She had a certain carnal, animal way about her. Her appetites appeared to know no bounds.” Mrs Hazelwood’s eyes had gone flinty, not even blinking. “However, this new gentleman soon grew weary of her, as gentlemen will do. By then he had ruined her with use of opiates and other intoxicants. She was unbalanced. She threw herself from the roof of his mansion along the Schuylkill—to her death.”
Grey sat back and took a deep breath. Dear God. It was an incredibly ugly story. One he’d pay any price to keep Beth from hearing. Ever.
“So now you understand her bloodlines. The girl is going to shame you. She has no sense of personal dignity. She went about in rags, though I gave her plenty of money for better over the years. She gave it all to her good-for-nothing brother and his ever-failing shop.”
“Yes, I know,” he said tightly.
“I care for that wild girl and I’ll hate to see her hurt by your vain belief you can mould her to suit your fancy.”
He studied the woman’s cool, patrician countenance. How the hell could she be so unfeeling to Beth, keeping her at a distance all these years, yet claim to care about her?
“You won’t tell
* * * *
“This is your last chance to reconsider, Mr Sexton.”
In Mrs Hazelwood’s study, under her sharp stare, Grey shifted in his chair. What the devil did she mean, reconsider? Did she honestly think he was the kind of gentleman who would reconsider a sacred commitment once made? That he wouldn’t have thought of all the counterpoints before committing? With her advanced age and gender in mind, he bit back a sharp retort and fixed her with a level gaze. “I assure you, I have no desire to reconsider.”
And he truly didn’t. With the heat of anger drained from his blood, he knew that he and Beth needed only to get through this night. To stay on target with their original goal and not let their heated emotions get the better of them. Beth would feel more secure with things made official between them. She’d settle back down. “It is her extraordinary beauty that draws you, I know.”
“Yes, she is beautiful—exquisitely so,” Grey replied. He’d be damned if he’d explain himself to the woman. The aged blue eyes flickered coldly with a hint of superior contempt. An eerie echo of the sneering contempt in Beth’s eyes when she spoke of her own beauty or appeal to men. “She’s bastard-born. The child of my servant.”
He flinched, finding the sound of the word ‘bastard’ spoken in reference to Beth a very ugly thing. And what the devil sort of conversation was this, anyhow? The woman was supposed to be Beth’s advocate. “I know—both you and Beth have impressed this fact on me repeatedly.”
“Then why must you do this to her?” Mrs Hazelwood leant forward, her ice-blue gaze seeming to pierce into his very soul. She sighed and clapped her hands softly together. “Ah, but you will not relent in your quest to possess such beauty. Not even when she has neither the breeding nor the temperament to fit into your world. You do not know her as I do. She can be impulsive, driven by emotion—”
“I think you have said enough.” He compressed his lips.
Mrs Hazelwood held up one hand. “No, you only know half the story. Let me tell you about the parts we covered over. How her mother grew wild. How that cunning, common little harlot cozened all that money out of us for Beth’s care. How we found Beth neglected and ill with fever in her cradle. We took Beth from Alice. She didn’t fight us. She had a new protector. She wasn’t particularly pretty but she was petite and well made. Such a quiet, meek thing she was.” Mrs Hazelwood arched a brow. “I believe I am of an age where I may speak frankly to a gentleman.”
He nodded curtly, shifting in his seat.
“I did not realise it when I hired Alice but she was a siren tempting men to sin. She had a certain carnal, animal way about her. Her appetites appeared to know no bounds.” Mrs Hazelwood’s eyes had gone flinty, not even blinking. “However, this new gentleman soon grew weary of her, as gentlemen will do. By then he had ruined her with use of opiates and other intoxicants. She was unbalanced. She threw herself from the roof of his mansion along the Schuylkill—to her death.”
Grey sat back and took a deep breath. Dear God. It was an incredibly ugly story. One he’d pay any price to keep Beth from hearing. Ever.
“So now you understand her bloodlines. The girl is going to shame you. She has no sense of personal dignity. She went about in rags, though I gave her plenty of money for better over the years. She gave it all to her good-for-nothing brother and his ever-failing shop.”
“Yes, I know,” he said tightly.
“I care for that wild girl and I’ll hate to see her hurt by your vain belief you can mould her to suit your fancy.”
He studied the woman’s cool, patrician countenance. How the hell could she be so unfeeling to Beth, keeping her at a distance all these years, yet claim to care about her?
“You won’t tell
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