She could lie. There were so many excuses she could find. ‘To look for you in the Peerage.’
‘I said – ’
‘I understand. But you cannot keep it a secret for ever. We need to know, we cannot fight this battle with some of the information missing.’
He shrugged off her words with a slight lift of one shoulder. ‘You wanted romance? Romance is for courtship.’ The laughter had gone although the smile lingered faintly, empty now. ‘You would be justified in having expectations of that, Guinevere, because you are correct and you will find my name in the Peerage.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes, it matters and I should have thought of that before I came into your chamber. What we had before was an affaire, a brief flare of passion with a clear understanding that nothing could come of a liaison between a lady and a swordmaster. Now things are different, but I have nothing to offer you except an empty courtesy title, taken second-hand from my brother and the prospect of I know not what when my father is no more. At the moment I live on what I earn and that has not changed.’
‘So now you are Lord – Lord what?’
‘Viscount Ravenlaw. James Andrew Jared Forrest, son of the third Earl of Huntingford.’
Guin stood up and dropped a curtsey. ‘My lord. And I have no expectations of you that I did not have of Jared Hunt, swordmaster.’
‘Then you should have. You should expect me to marry you. An honourable man would offer you his hand. An honourable man who could keep you in the manner befitting you, that is. I cannot do that because I have no expectations whatsoever and no status in Society. I would not put it past my father to disinherit me of every scrap of unentailed land – and that is what supports the house and the household.’ Now even the ghost of the smile had left him. ‘A lady may condescend to take an inferior as a lover. An impoverished viscount does not take advantage of that lady, not without honourable intentions.’
‘You are splitting hairs, and you did not take advantage of me.’
/> ‘I lied about who I am. I thought I was safe from having to be my true self ever again.’
‘I wanted you and I still want you. As a lover. I have had two husbands. One was a scoundrel, the other was a good substitute for my grandfather. I am in no hurry to take a third simply because he has a title.’
‘Guinevere, we would be a scandal. We are a scandal, only not many people know about us.’
‘Augustus would have approved of us. Theo, who is head of the family now, approves of you. And you have a Duke and Duchess as close friends – they will not condemn us, surely? Besides,’ she added when that produced no response, ‘I am caricatured as a wanton widow who plotted with her lover and nephew by marriage to kill her own husband. After that a swordmaster-viscount is positively respectable.’
He picked up his sword belt and buckled it on, the refusal as clear as if he had spoken it.
Do I have any pride left? Probably not. I can be shameless for one last throw, I suppose. ‘You do not want to be Ravenlaw. You do not believe that your family wants you. Stay as Jared Hunt, open your salle d’armes, be the man you created for yourself.’ Be my lover.
‘Before I was the spare with a vigorous older brother who married a fertile woman. I was not needed. Now William is dead and leaves no son. I have a duty.’
‘To the father who would not believe you?’ she demanded. How could he be so…
‘To the title, to the name, to the estate and its people. I have no idea how my father is. He was always a reclusive countryman, just as William was, and I have made no effort to find out. Whether he wants me or not, I have to make the effort now.’
‘He will only hurt you again,’ she said passionately, standing up, closing her hand over his on the pommel of the rapier.
Jared shrugged, both shoulders now, a weary, resigned thoroughly English movement, not the elegant gesture of the French-taught swordsman. ‘I am not a boy any longer and I do not care what he thinks or what he says. There is nothing he can do to wound me now and even if there was, that does not change where my duty lies.’
‘You will tell Theo and Dover?’
Jared shook his head. He released his hold on the pommel and curled his fingers into hers. ‘I need to discover who I am, what I am. How my father is. He will be mourning, angry with fate, if I know him at all. He may make it easy for me to help, he may make it downright impossible, but I must find out.’
‘You will be walking into a place where your sister-in-law is the friend and confidante of a murderess. She wounded you unfairly, cruelly all those years ago, I do not need to have the details to know that. She will feel guilty and guilt often turns to hatred. She will fear you now.’
‘She has no cause.’ Jared turned until they were face to face, fingers entwined, sending messages of pressure and touch seemingly of their own accord. ‘I loved her once, so I thought.’
‘When will you go?’ Guin asked. She could smell the plain soap on his skin and the dust from the stairwell and, almost on the edge of her consciousness, the disturbing scent of aroused male. He still wants me.
‘Tomorrow. Dover and Theo will be with you. You will be safe. I would leave it longer, but I may find proof there, with Bella.’ Jared bent and kissed her, his mouth warm and possessive, the pressure fleeting. ‘I should have better self-control,’ he said ruefully as he released her hand and went to move the chair away from the latch of the tower stair door. ‘Go back to bed, Guinevere, you need your sleep.’
There was no snick of the lock on the other side when he closed the old oak behind him. He was staying there then, cramped on the cold stone, guarding her. Wanting her. Denying them both, the maddening, honourable man.
Chapter Twenty Two