The Undercover Scoundrel by Peterson Jessica

Author:Peterson, Jessica [Peterson, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-05-14T23:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Henry’s eye unfurled with understanding. His grip loosened on her arms. The high color of his anger faded, replaced by a pallor that shone in the yellow light of a lantern above.

His brows unhooked; the grooves in his forehead loosened. His lips parted and came back together, as if he had a hundred questions, and didn’t know which to ask first.

Caroline looked away. She’d never meant to tell him. What did it matter now? And this wound—opening it again was too much to bear.

But he’d shared his secrets, and so she felt compelled to reveal her own.

She closed her eyes against the sting of her tears.

“It was a girl,” Caroline said. “She died before she was born, a month too early.”

“Oh, God,” he said. He pulled her against him, as if he might embrace her.

She stepped back. “Please don’t.”

“Oh, God,” he repeated. “Caroline, I’m—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say—Christ. I’m sorry you had to do that. Do it alone.”

A beat.

“Did you”—his voice was threadbare—“get to see her?”

She scoffed, splattering her tears as she shook her head. “Red hair, just like yours. She was beautiful. Tiny, these little bones, like a kitten’s.”

Another beat. And then he said: “I wish I could have seen her.”

Caroline looked up at him. “I wish that, too.”

His grip tightened on her arms now.

“Caroline,” he said. “I had—I didn’t know. I had no idea. If—”

“Osbourne knew,” she nodded. “He knew all along. Knew when I married him. He did it for you, you know. He loved you, and didn’t want your child born . . . to parents who weren’t married.”

Henry’s grip tightened again. Her skin pinched in protest.

He looked down at her. His eye was wet, but no tears fell.

“I didn’t want this for us,” he whispered. “We were—I was so young, I didn’t know what I was doing. I should’ve been more careful when we—when it—”

“You wouldn’t be so regretful if you saw her face.” Caroline bit her lip. “I would’ve wished for better circumstances, yes. But she was perfect. I’ll never regret her.”

She looked away. She couldn’t bear the hurt she saw in his eye.

“Did she have a name?” he asked.

Caroline closed her eyes again. Her throat tightened.

“Yes,” she said, and shook her head.

Yes, she had a name. But Caroline hadn’t the strength to speak it. Not tonight.

They both looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A woman with a strangely broad chin and the shadow of a moustache came into view. She took one look at Caroline and stopped dead in her tracks; her eyes moved to Henry, whose face hardened with recognition.

He looked down at Caroline. “I’m sorry—I—”

“Go.” Caroline stepped back, eyes trained on her hands.

He hesitated.

“Go.”

Henry dipped his head. “This conversation is not over,” he murmured in her ear.

And then he turned and disappeared into a nearby boxwood.

He was good at that, the disappearing.

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