Page 98 of A Relentless Rake

“She is well,” Reed repeated, the finality in his voice boldly stating that he no longer wished to discuss his mother. “Thank you for asking.”

And please do not mention her again.The words lingered between them as clearly as if he’d actually spoken them.

Alec cleared his throat. “Mother, perhaps we should let the captain—”

She ignored him and persisted, “I’m certain she’s very proud of you. During the wars, theTimeswas filled with stories of your bravery, especially at Toulouse. I know that Lady Agnes took a special interest in following all your deeds.”

Reed stiffened. His eyes darted over the countess’s head to Alec, not in an appeal for help, Alec understood, but in warning. Isabel Sinclair was treading where she didn’t belong.

“Mother,” Alec said, more firmly this time. She wanted to establish peace between Reed and the Sinclairs, but pushing forward like this would only anger the man and most likely cause him to turn his back on all of them. “Captain Reed is needed at the Horse Guards.”

“Of course. My apologies for keeping you.” Yet she gave him a pleading look for understanding. “There have been so many wrongs committed over the years, so many reasons not to trust or forgive…but I hope the future might be different.”

Reed’s mouth tightened. Clearly, his patience with this impromptu family gathering had reached its limit. “Thank you, my lady.” But his voice held no hint of gratitude. “I’ll see myself out.”

Reed nodded to Alec, then bowed again to Isabel as he excused himself to leave. As he stepped past her toward the door, she impetuously reached for his arm and stopped him.

He stared coldly down at her hand, as if considering whether to shove it away.

“If you or your mother ever need anything,” she assured him, “you can come to us for help. Please know that. Despite everything, you have friends in the Sinclair family.”

Reed stiffened, and Alec knew that his brother was fighting to control his anger and nearly fifteen years of hatred. Alec knew exactly how he felt, because he’d experienced the exact same emotions himself when he’d learned about his father’s secret life—fury, betrayal…most of all frustration at not being able to change the past.

With hard-won control, Reed slowly shifted his arm away from her. “Thank you for the offer, ma’am.” His voice was cold and distant but painfully polite. “I don’t believe that will be necessary.”

He walked from the room without looking back.

When he’d vanished into the hall, Isabel sank slowly into a nearby chair.

“Are you all right, Mother?” Alec leaned against the reading table to give her space, but his chest squeezed brutally with concern as he fought back the urge to go to her side. She’d paled to a ghostly hue, and her hands clenched the chair arms so tightly that her fingertips had turned white.

She nodded jerkily, her eyes fixed on the door as if she expected Reed to return.

Alec could assure her that wasn’t going to happen. Ever. “Perhaps I should call for Aunt Agnes to—”

“No.” She pressed her hand against her chest, not yet lifting her eyes to look at him, as if afraid of the anger and accusation she would see in him. “Captain Reed’s mother was a maid at Pelham Park. She was young and beautiful, and your father was…drawn to her.”

Alec stiffened. What a polite way to say that his father had raped the woman. Even now, his mother did her best to protect her family from the evils the old earl had committed. “I know.”

“Not everything.” Her voice choked as she continued, “She left in the middle of the night without notice. Even then, I assumed… But at the time, I had no way of finding her and making whatever amends I could, as if anything could ever have made up for what St James had done to her.”

He said nothing. He’d already suspected all this.

“When your father died, I was finally able to hire investigators to find her. They told me she’d left Pelham to elope with a groom from the neighboring estate, been widowed, and then gotten employment with the Earl of Buckley after her husband’s death. So I went to visit her. The moment I met her, I knew that story was a lie.”

She raised her tear-glistened eyes to meet his.

“She’d fled Pelham after he’d attacked her, only to learn that she was with child. So she created the story of an elopement and dead husband, then changed her name to appeal upon the kindness of family. They took her in until her baby was born and she could secure a position. She raised him on her own. She never gave him up to the foundling hospital.” Her voice dropped to a hoarse, pain-filled whisper. “I knew there was nothing I could do to give back to her all that had been stolen, but I could help her son. I could givehima better life.”

Alec’s heart slammed against his breastbone so hard that the thud jarred through him. Heknew… “The money you withdrew from the accounts after Father died,” he rasped out. “That’s what you mean.”

She nodded and whispered, so softly he could barely hear her, “His mother used it to buy an officer’s commission for him in the dragoons.”

He stared at his mother as a wave of remorse consumed him. He’d blamed her for squandering those funds on gowns and frivolous purchases made in a rush of newfound freedom after his father’s death, in a wave of grief—or relief that the old bastard could never hurt them again. For months, Alec had barely spoken to her because of it, and all the while, she’d been doing everything she could to save those lives his father had destroyed.

“You never told me,” he mumbled.

“Because I didn’t want you to know.” Shame filled her voice. “It was enough that you were already dealing with the knowledge of what your father had done. You didn’t deserve to also have to come to terms with his illegitimate son, not then.”