Page 62 of Love with a Notorious Rake

“The long discussions with your father have put much of what happened in proper perspective. I agree with him that addiction is a disease, even though everyone, including those in the medical community, do not. They say it is a weakness, a lack of character. Perhaps it is both. All I know is that I don’t want to be that man anymore. The selfish, rich, heir apparent. Hence why I suggested this covert operation to my father and grandfather. They are working to amend the Factory Act. All the information I gather here will further their cause.”

“I admire you for it; you’ve already proven you are not ‘Lord Nothing,’” Cristyn said. And she meant it.

He bowed in response.

“The act certainly needs amending,” she continued. “The plight of the poor here needs immediate attention. My reason for coming here? I wanted to do something useful with all I had learned from my father. But there was a selfish motive as well; I needed to distance myself from the sanatorium, and from the memory of you.”

Aidan caressed her cheek, trailing the tip of his finger across her lips, causing her to shiver with desire. “As usual, I handled it in a ham-fisted manner. I should have explained myself better. I wanted…hell, I needed to discover if I was even worthy of your affection. Anyone’s affection. To see if there was a decent man below the artificial surface.”

“And would you have sought me out after your journey of discovery?”

Aidan dropped his hand. “The truth? I’m not certain. By the time I departed Standon I had convinced myself you were better off without me. Finding you here in Earl Shilton was fate. Who am I to argue with fate? But it also made me realize I was a fool for walking away.”

Cristyn absorbed his words. Then she recalled what her father had said: He is far above us in station. He’s not for you. Her heart sank. “Maybe you were right to walk away,” she murmured. “My father said it would never work between us. That you are not of our class.” She shook her head sadly. “Heir to an earl? You’re expected to marry well. Society demands it, perhaps even your family. It is your duty—”

“Fuck duty! When did I ever give a hang about it?” Aidan cried. “You speak of something lasting. Damn it all, Cristyn, why can’t we be happy?”

Her eyes widened at his vulgarity.

“Yes, my angel. I am profane on top of my many faults. Apologies. Believe me when I tell you that no one in my family holds with such strictures. In fact, my grandfather, the Earl of Carnstone, is to marry a lovely woman who happens to be an ex-lady’s maid. The family couldn’t be happier for him.”

Wait. “Did you say Earl of Carnstone?” The conversation with Cyn flooded her mind. Disgraceful party. Orgy. Auction. Licentious lord. An heir to an earl. All the jagged pieces fit together to form a tragic picture. Aidan was the heir. The brute that had showed up at the sanatorium in February? Did he have something to do with the gossip? Was the lord the one that perpetrated heinous acts against his family?

Oh, Aidan. How horrible. Her heart swelled with compassion, hating the fact Aidan had come to such a degrading circumstance. “I heard the gossip from my friend, who heard it from her cousin in London. I had no idea it was you. Only that it was the heir to the Earl of Carnstone. I am sorry.”

He blinked. ‘What are you on about?”

“The auction at an orgy,” she replied sympathetically.

“No pity, please. I can see it in your eyes,” he snapped.

Cristyn placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not pity. There is no need for you to be defensive about it.” She huffed.

Aidan didn’t have a chance to reply, for Paris walked into the room. Blast it.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but we have a medical call. Mrs. Barton’s son came to the back door. I will need your assistance,” Paris said.

“Then I will take my leave.” Aidan bowed stiffly and departed before she had a chance to say anything. But this conversation was not over. Once the medical call was completed, she would tell him that she would never turn from him.

Cristyn would make him understand that she loved him in spite of his past, and, in turn, because of it.

Chapter 18

Aidan marched toward the inn. Christ, she’d heard of the gossip in Standon. What were the odds? How far did the blasted tattle spread? Coast to coast and every point in between? Once he entered the inn, he vaulted up the stairs. Fumbling for his key, he grumbled and cursed under his breath until he located it, unlocked the door, and entered. Aidan halted in his tracks. The room was in darkness, as the curtains had been drawn. Someone was here, for he could smell stale tobacco and sweat. In the corner of the room, the red illumination of a lit cheroot glowed in the shadows.

“Hello, Aidan.”

The gravelly voice was unmistakeable. Delaney. Aidan closed his eyes. Unbelievable. Why, at this moment, considering he had just discussed this disturbing episode with Cristyn? Yes, I am cursed, and no mistake. Stay calm. Aidan’s eyes popped open and he glanced about the dim room, looking for anything he could use as a weapon.

Delaney dropped the cheroot to the wood-planked floor and ground it out with his boot. “I’m not here to harm you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To finish the conversation we started at that damned clinic.” He turned the knob on the gas lamp by his chair and came into focus. His harsh looks were made all the more menacing by the muted light.

Aidan’s past would follow him straight to the grave. It pursued and haunted him regardless of his good intentions. He couldn’t even come to a small village in the middle of nowhere with an assumed name.

Delaney kicked a chair toward him. “Sit. You will hear me out.”