The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel) Page 13

  With this he rose from his chair and crossed the room and Angela saw at once why he hadn’t wanted her to see his eyes. She had expected tears but to her surprise his eyes were dry. It was the emotion in them that caught her off guard; an overwhelming storm of feelings swimming around in a complexity that sent her mind and stomach into knots.

  “I made an oath to you as well. Before God I said that I would protect you and stand by you through all times, good and bad. You made that oath too you know.”

  He was breaking her and she tried to pull her eyes from him before the damage was complete but he grabbed her face and pulled her eyes back to meet his.

  “I want you to look at me while I say this. As your husband, there are many things I can make you do, but I don’t suppose that loving me is one of them. If this is what we will be to each other then so be it but that does not change my oath or my desire to uphold it.”

  Her bottom lip trembled and she bit it to keep from crying. Andrew noticed. “You, stop. You’re the one who brought this on. Don’t worry, I will not leave you.” He released his grip on his wife. “But right now you must leave me.”

  So she turned without arguing and exited the room, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly known her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Angela’s arms were clasped tightly around Andrew as she sat behind him on their horse. She had spent the first hour of the trip trying to find a way to keep steady without touching him, or at least without wrapping her arms completely around his body. That having failed, she had finally given in, pressed her body against his, and clasped her hands firmly across his chest. It wasn’t that she had a problem touching him. Truth be told his touch had always been a welcome gift to her and normally her touch was a welcome gift to him. But right now she was scared about what her touch would do.

  Against her better judgment she gave in and squeezed him tighter, nestling her head deep within his shoulder. So far so good. She took one deep breath and let his very essence permeate her and fill her with excitement. Yes, this was how he got to her every single time. She wanted this feeling to last forever, but she knew, deep inside, that this was probably the last time they would be this way and it was all her fault.

  She had led him on, made him think that she loved him when really she had just wanted him. It was her fault for what was happening. It was her fault that he loved her and that he thought that she loved him back. She felt absolutely insane thinking about it. She had just broken his heart, confessed that she didn’t love him as he loved her, and yet somehow he still got to her.

  If she didn’t love him, why did her heart beat like a hummingbird every time she was near him? Right now all Angela wanted to do was to hold her husband, kiss him, tease him, take him, and make him hers… again and again. Yes they had argued, and yes she had told him that she didn’t love him, but she was his wife and he was in the midst of an emotional tragedy. It was her duty, her right even, to comfort him in his time of sorrow.

  Wasn’t it?

  And then it happened.

  She felt him flinch.

  Of course. She had expected it.

  So why did it hurt her so much?

  ***

  It was just after noon on the second day of riding that Andrew caught sight of the Dillard’s massive city manor. It had been years since he last set his eyes on it but he would have known it if he had been gone one hundred years. He would know it in his sleep. He would know it if he was blind. Inside that beautiful sprawling house Andrew had spent most of his life. Now that he thought about it, he had been born in that house.

  There was a time he thought that he would die in that house.

  To anyone else, returning to the place they had grown up in would be a beautiful, poignant, and nostalgic movement. Not for Andrew. He had been a servant in that home and not by any choice of his own. He should feel angry but he just couldn’t muster up that feeling. Despite the circumstances surrounding his service to the Dillards his life had been surprisingly decent. He wasn’t treated poorly, he wasn’t abused. In fact, there were times when he had even felt like a member of the family. But when he got right down to it he was not a member of the Dillard family. But he had always wanted to be…

  So when he heard the message that Lady Dillard requested him at the funeral of her son and grandson, his heart dropped right out of his body. Perhaps now that time had passed and he was no longer a bond servant, the Dillards thought of him differently. Perhaps they had always thought of him that way but it just hadn’t been socially appropriate. Perhaps… yes, perhaps.

  As Andrew directed the horse towards the stable he felt Angela shift uncomfortably behind him. She had been so quiet during the trip that he almost forgot she was there; but just almost. She was pressed up against him closely, her arms wrapped around him for support. He had spent the first day with a full body flush and the second day feeling sick from the ache in his heart. He wanted to push her away, make her get off the horse, and then ride off into the distance until he didn’t hurt anymore. But he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. As much as he hurt right now, not being with Angela would hurt even more.

  But oh God in heaven, did he hurt right now.

  Andrew slowed the horse to a stop inside the all too familiar stables, dismounted, and helped his wife down. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and didn’t make a sound as she demurely walked over to a bale of hay and took a seat. Andrew took a slow, deep breath and turned from his wife as he forcefully set his feelings aside. There was only enough room for one ache in his heart and right now it was reserved for the Dillards.

  As he led the horse into an empty stable he stole a longing glance at Angela, beautiful, wonderful Angela, and sighed. Then he walked to her, and rigidly led her to the house.

  ***

  He knew that they should use the front door. They were guests, invited by the lady of the house, but something about it just felt wrong. In all his years at this residence Andrew had never used the front door. He had been a servant after all. So as they got closer to the house Andrew felt his feet lead him in a different direction. Angela knew that he was heading towards the back door, the servant’s entrance, and she pulled back against him and gave him a dirty glance; still not uttering a word.

  But before Andrew had a chance to argue with his wife he heard a familiar voice call to him from the front of the house.

  “And where exactly do you think you’re going, sir?”

  “I—umm—” And then he paused. “Nowhere.”

  “Mmhmm. That’s what I thought. Now get yourself up here and introduce me to that gorgeous woman on your arm.”

  Andrew lowered his head and a smirk spread across his face. “Of course ma’am.”

  “Oh just get up here Andrew and no more of this ‘ma’am’! Lady Dillard is what I am to you.”

  “Oh. I—of course.” Andrew was unsure what to say but a feeling of warmth started in his heart and spread through his entire body. Lady Dillard. How informal. How… wonderful.

  Andrew nearly knocked Angela over as he pulled her to his side in front of Lady Dillard.

  “This is my wife: Angela Bennett Wilson.”

  Lady Dillard’s eyes widened. “So it is true. You ran off with the Baron’s daughter. How absolutely delicious!”

  “Ha!” flew out of Angela’s mouth and then her hands went swiftly to her lips.

  “No need to hide the laughter. I’m the one who said it after all!”

  Lady Dillard reached out and took hold of both Andrew’s and Angela’s hands. “Well come inside already. It’s…” She hesitated for a moment and cleared her throat, obviously trying to hold back tears. “It’s almost time.”

  And at this moment all the anger he had for his wife temporarily left him. All he could think of now were the Dillards, the closest thing to a family he had ever known.

  ***

  At this moment, Angela was not sure how to act. As a wife she should be very supportive of her husband; comfo
rt him, soothe him, and raise his spirits. But right now she was not sure if that was her place. They still hadn’t resolved their dispute and so Angela had no idea if she would be any comfort to Andrew. She gently placed her right hand upon his shoulder and squeezed but he pulled away and hurried a few steps in front of her. No, it appeared she couldn’t comfort him right now.

  She clasped her hands in front of herself and walked demurely behind him. She looked to her right and caught her eyes with Lady Dillard. Angela had known her less than one minute but somehow she knew her intimately. This comforted her. She had always felt alone and misunderstood but right now she felt as if Lady Dillard identified with her. Had she experienced the same life as Angela? Was she still experiencing the same life as Angela? Perhaps that was the curse of the woman, to remain hidden under a veil of secrecy. She would have to talk to Lady Dillard alone very soon. But right now there was a funeral to attend and a marriage to repair.

  ***

  The funeral lasted for nearly an entire day and Andrew was completely emotionally exhausted. The only family he had ever known was now underneath the earth. He wanted to cry but at the moment, no emotion was flowing from his body. He was stoic and composed, exactly how a man should act in public but he knew that later he would break down; tears would flow and he would dissolve into despair. But where would he find comfort? Normally a man can find support and comfort in his wife and life companion, but right now the standing of his marriage was in debate.

  As they walked into the main room for the reading of the wills, Andrew clasped his hand with his wife and tried desperately to receive strength from her. But he felt nothing. Why? Why? Was it because of her fear or because of his emotionally unstable state? He wanted to understand every bit of this but right now he had no real time to think.

  At the bidding of Lady Dillard, Andrew and Angela sat next to her in the front row of the room. Andrew was confused. He had somewhat found a way to justify his invitation to the funeral; blood or not he had grown up with the Dillards and his invitation to the funeral had been justified. But attending the reading of the will? Exactly what purpose did that serve? It wasn’t as if he would receive anything. As close and loyal as he had been to the family, when it got right down to it he had been nothing more than a servant. He wasn’t going to get anything in this reading but he had attended to make Lady Dillard happy. Perhaps she needed comfort herself, a familiar and friendly face who understood her pain.

  Andrew hadn’t paid much attention through the reading of the will and when it finally came to an end he was more than ready to leave. But as he stood up to exit the room, Lady Dillard gently reached out her arm and took hold of him.

  “Please wait. There is more.”

  Angela flashed a look of confusion at her husband and he reflected her emotions. They both sat down again and waited for what was coming. Andrew looked at Lady Dillard and tried to figure out what she was telling him. There had to be a reason she had requested his presence and he prayed desperately that she wanted him to be her family. He no longer knew what to think or do. His emotions and thoughts began to swim wildly through his head. They were a mix of sounds and colors that he couldn’t distinguish, all fighting for his attention.

  Then the executor of the will cleared his throat. “There is one last section of the will to read.” The man flashed Lady Dillard a nervous look and the entire room took notice. Lady Dillard was calm and collected but a sense of question filled the room.

  And then the man began to speak. “The Earl drafted a portion of his will that he requested only to be read if his son died before producing an heir.”

  The entire room perked up and both Andrew and his wife moved to the edge of their seats.

  “The Earl wrote a letter that he wanted to be read.” The executor pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, cleared his throat again and began to read.

  “I have made many mistakes in my life but my greatest mistake is being untruthful and putting my own pride over the well-being of my family.”

  Everyone in the room began to murmur and had no idea what to expect next. Andrew’s eyes widened.

  The man continued on, a slight quiver in his voice. “I am a coward for not admitting this before but I will be even more of a coward to keep this secret in death and let the earldom pass from my family when there is still a living relative.”

  Andrew’s eyes widened even more and voices continued to chatter within the crowd.

  The executor forced the last lines of the letter from his lips before hurrying from the room.

  There were gasps and screams, women swooned and men yelled in anger.

  The words were ringing in his ears and Andrew slowly repeated them within his mind.

  “I hereby acknowledge Andrew Wilson as my legitimate son and the rightful heir to the Earldom of Dillard.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Time was all he wanted but there was none to be had.

  No sooner had the words left the mouth of the executor than the entire room broke into a riot. There were several cries of “Outrage!” and “Scandal!” before Andrew swiftly became acquainted with the fist of one Lord Abbott, whom he soon discovered was a distant cousin set to inherit the Earldom. Instinctively he fought back and the two were soon rolling around the floor of the sitting room like two unruly school children. Andrew had just landed a solid punch to Lord Abbott’s groin when two unbiased parties pulled the men apart.

  Andrew wiped blood from his lip and then shook his hand, sending the drops flying to the far reaches of the room. Everything was moving in slow motion now. Everything was out of focus. The voices in the room were muffled as if coming from the other end of a lengthy tunnel. Andrew thought he heard someone calling his name but that just wasn’t important enough to break through the fog of scenes running through his head.

  The words passed through his mind again.

  “My legitimate son… rightful heir to the Earldom of Dillard.”

  How could it be true? How could it be possible?

  How could his own father ignore him, make him a bond servant?

  Then Lord Abbott’s voice pierced through the room. “He is nothing more than a servant! He cannot be the Earl of Dillard!” He motioned to the room and then continued, “How do we even know that it is true? Of course the late Earl would want his line to pass on. He might say anything for that to happen!”

  And then Lady Dillard chimed in. “You dare to question my son? The late Earl?”

  “Well—I—”

  “You dare to question me?”

  This time Lord Abbott did not speak and just clenched his fists tightly at his sides.

  “Yes. I thought as much.” She then turned her face to Andrew and looked at him in the same caring way she always had. This time Andrew understood why? “And what say you… grandson?”

  Grandson.

  The word felt amazing to his ears but at the same time he felt an intense pain in his body. How many years had he been denied this pleasure?

  Without thinking the words flowed from his mouth, and Andrew, who had never backed down from an obligation in his life was not prepared to do so now.

  “I take this on with full honor and understanding.”

  ***

  Angela followed her husband, unsure exactly where he was headed. At this moment there was no time for anger and no time for fear. It didn’t matter what her own feelings were or what her husband might think of her at the moment. Whether he knew it or accepted it, her husband needed her right now. It was her duty, her right, as his wife to stand by his side in this time of need. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, to his depths of despair and confusion…to the servant’s quarters?

  Angela had not been sure where Andrew was heading when he left the room. Many places had sifted through her mind but the servant’s quarters were not one of them. He turned to look at her. She opened her mouth to ask but no words came out.

  It didn’t matter. As always Andrew understood her every word an
d thought. As always he saw deep into her soul and mind.

  “This was my room; where I slept for 25 years of my life.” He cleared his throat and it was clear to Angela that he was trying desperately to keep his composure. These past few days had undoubtedly been the most trying of his life. Angela was greatly impressed that he was able to keep from crying.

  But deep inside, there was a part of her that wanted him to break down and cry. She wanted tears to pour from his eyes as he let down his guard. How strange that she would want this type of emotion from him when she was unwilling to give it of herself.

  Andrew lay down in the bed and pulled the blanket around him. Without even having to think Angela laid down next to him, ready to offer him whatever comfort he might need.

  But as he had done earlier, her husband shivered and pulled away.

  Angela fell asleep alone on the bed.

  Andrew fell asleep alone on the floor.

  ***

  Despite spending most of his life in the company of nobility, Andrew was very ignorant to their inner workings. Though he had had nearly an entire day to contemplate what had just happened, he could not even fathom what might lie before him. So when Lady Dillard came to Andrew the next day and informed him that there would be a ball held in his honor to commemorate his new title he did not question her. She brought him elegant clothes to wear and he was afraid. Everything he had ever owned in his entire life did not add up to this.

  He put the clothes on and stood in front of the mirror in his new room, in awe at his appearance. In his entire life he had never given much time to his looks. He had never had a reason to. Despite his social status Andrew had always been content with himself and his life. He might not have worn the most fashionable or expensive clothes but he felt content about himself and that was reflected in what other people saw.