Dare to Love (11 page)

“Why, the current Marquess of Raynsforth, of course. May God have mercy on his soul,” he muttered.

Nivea had never seen him like this. Dare never mentioned his father; it was obviously a sensitive subject for him. What had the man done to provoke such anger? Unsure of how to proceed, she stood behind him, waiting for Dare to explain. When he didn’t, she couldn’t help but probe further. “I don’t understand. What did your father do?”

The sound of his bitter laugh shook her. “You do not want to know. With your close, loving little family, you would not understand. No one can.”

The words stung her heart. As he stood there, the picture of a tortured soul, she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly had happened. She had to know.

“Please. Tell me.”

He turned, strode to the nearest bench and sank down. The pain and rage churning inside were both fierce and unyielding.

He couldn’t believe she’d caught him playing. He had been certain the house was empty. But no, she had to be the one to hear him. And now she stood there, asking for an explanation. Delving into his personal life. As though she could even begin to understand his shameful past.

Raising his head, he stared deeply into her eyes, willing her to back down. To go away. When she didn’t move, he barked out, “Fine.”

He didn’t know what he was going to tell her, or even why. But at this moment, he found himself powerless to stop. Anger simmering in his voice, he asked, “What do you know of my family?”

“Not much,” she admitted. “You have several sisters, but they are older than me, so I am not well acquainted.” She didn’t mention that they were considered rather horrible, but he could see the truth in her eyes.

She continued, her voice hesitant. “As you have spent most of your holidays with my family over the years, I imagine you are estranged.”

“Estranged?” he choked out. “Hmm, yes, that is an innocuous word to use.”

“But why? And what has that to do with the piano?”

He fixed her with a fierce stare, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he battled for composure. Could he really do this? Could he say it aloud? His throat convulsed at the thought.

Nivea sank down next to him on the bench. Without a word, she waited for him to continue. Not speaking to him, not looking at him. Just waiting. It appeared there was no way out. Why not just tell her? Shock her. Show her the world isn’t the pretty little fairy tale she imagined.

Keeping his tone deliberately casual, he began. “I was the youngest of five, the only boy in a gaggle of girls. My mother was surprisingly involved and we all took our lessons together, learning to dance, paint, arrange flowers, and become accomplished musicians. Everything a young lady of gentle birth needs to be a successful wife.”

“But…but, you were a boy. You can’t have been expected to do everything your sisters did”

Dare sneered. “The fact that I was a boy did not affect my mother a whit. You would no doubt be amazed at my talent for embroidery.”

“Oh, no,”—she stifled a giggle—“really?”

He nodded, closing his eyes at the embarrassment that welled inside him.

“How did your father feel about that?”

The question started his blood pounding. Unable to sit still, he leapt to his feet and began pacing. “Ah, there’s the rub. My family’s once vast estate had been decimated over the years by poor management and uncontrolled gambling. My father was determined to return our title and our fortune to its former glory. He learned of an opportunity in the New World and decided it would be the best way for him to earn untold riches without other nobility knowing he was getting his hands dirty, so to speak. He left for the West Indies when I was in swaddling clothes and rarely made an appearance.” He hesitated.

“Go on,” she urged.

Yes, go on
.
Why not share the most traumatic moments of his life with her?
What harm could possibly come of that?

His heart was pounding in his throat, choking him. No, he couldn’t do it.

Then he looked into her soft, pleading eyes, and the words tumbled out. “My father returned for good when I was seven. He had established a profitable empire in the islands and wanted to flaunt his success.”

Resentment clogged his throat. “He had been a slave owner there. A cruel taskmaster, earning his money on the backs of his human chattel. You can imagine he was none too pleased to arrive home and find his son on the pianoforte serenading the neighbors.”

Nivea’s hands flew to her mouth as she realized what his reaction must have been.

“Yes. He was furious. The beatings began almost immediately. As the sounds of applause drifted through the hallway, my father ordered me outside. The first punch knocked me to the ground.”

“What? He
hit
you? With his fist?”

Dare nodded.

“But you were just a child.”

“Not a child…a son. His son. And he wanted me to be a man.”

“Surely not by use of his fists!”

“Oh, I was to learn that was not his most painful weapon,” he snarled.

“Please do not tell me.” Her face had gone pale and she rose from the bench and tried to turn away.

“Oh, no. You wanted to hear.” He swung her back to look at him, forcing her chin up with his fingertips. “He had a special treat for me in his bags. Luckily, he had not yet unpacked, because his fury was so great that day, I likely would not have survived. “

Fear and tears filled her eyes. He could tell she didn’t want to ask, but was powerless to stop herself. “What was in his bags?”

He dropped his hand and stared off into the distance. Nivea chewed on her lip but remained silent. Even the wind had stilled, as though it, too, was waiting for him to answer.

Taking a deep steadying breath, he answered, “His whip.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “His
whip
? Surely not.”

Dare did not move.

“He did not whip you,” she choked out. When he didn’t answer she asked in a desperate tone, “Like a riding crop?”

“Oh, no, a full-length, corded rope.” He extended his arms six feet apart before calmly continuing, “Everything I learned in the first seven years of my life was now a shameful embarrassment to my father. Every joy, every talent, every soft emotion displayed my inability to become a man. My father spent the next few years beating me into the type of son he wanted. And he succeeded. I am a man.” He crossed his arms, daring her to disagree.

When she didn’t respond, he added, “So, you see, my piano playing is not an option. I never play. For anyone.”

Nivea crumpled onto the bench, her head bowed. He’d shocked her well and good. She didn’t move until the sun ducked behind a cloud and she shivered, breaking the spell. Then she blurted out, “Didn’t your mother help? Did she try and protect you?”

He snorted. “My mother? One could not ask for a worse ally. Angry at my father’s abandonment for all those years and his attitude toward her childrearing abilities, she attempted to punish him…through me, of course. She would complain about how she missed me and wanted us to stay close. She would charm me into playing for her or helping in the garden. Invariably, my father would find out. The mandatory punishment would be followed by an arduous lesson in manly pursuits—broadswords, hunting, or boxing. Only gambling was excluded, as a disgraceful waste of money. That was how we lost our fortune.”

Dare realized that was what stung the most. His mother, who he had loved and trusted, hadn’t protected him. While his father’s treatment of him was physically painful, at least he had a reason—he wanted Dare to become a man. Her attitude was selfish, caring about no one except herself. As difficult as that was to accept, it had taught him a valuable lesson. Women were not to be trusted.

And yet, he was here talking to a woman, spilling his secrets. It made no sense. He had no reason to trust her. He should leave before he made an even greater fool of himself.

But before he could get away, Nivea drew his attention once again. “You say you weren’t allowed to gamble, yet I know you do. In fact, I’ve heard you are quite skilled.”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “Yes, that’s true. I do take perverse delight in gambling.”

A bitter smile crossed her lips. “I don’t blame you.”

Her response was unexpected.

“So,” he growled, “you are not adverse to breaking the fifth commandment? Honor thy father? I am surprised at you.”

Her eyes flashed a fiery blue. “He forfeited God’s protection the first time he laid a whip on you.”

“Interesting interpretation but I’m certain he would disagree. Still, it is no matter. I am no longer under his thumb and can do as I please.”

A strong breeze loosened her hair and sent it tangling around her face. With a frown, she gathered it in a messy bundle and pinned it back into place. He hoped the matter was now closed, but when her hands stilled and her brow furrowed, he knew she wasn’t done tormenting him.

“So, is that why William invited you to spend your holidays here? To protect you?”

Fury surged through him again. With one quick step, he leaned into her face and hissed, “Absolutely not! William knows nothing about this! Nobody does.”

At her horrified expression, he straightened and stepped back. He would have to pull himself together. Forcing a smile, he said, “I was fortunate that William enjoyed my company. Whenever he offered me the option of joining him here, I took it. Gladly.”

“But didn’t your family want you home once you’d proven yourself a man grown? Wasn’t your father impressed by who you had become?”

The question further sparked the anger that simmered, always.

“Proud? Proud of me?” he snarled. “No, that is not an emotion that has ever been expressed.”

“I simply don’t understand. You are smart and accomplished. William has repeatedly confessed he would not have gotten through Harrow without your help. What more did he want?”

“Nothing. He wanted nothing from me. He accomplished the task he’d set out to do and could move on. He turned his attention to a steady stream of mistresses, which he paraded in front of my mother.”

“Oh, goodness. How did she tolerate that?”

His laugh was dark. “Her response was to hurl every valuable we owned at him. God, he hated that. He valued his possessions above all else.”

For years, decades really, he had hidden this. Now, he was assailed by the memories of the hideous battles he’d witnessed on a regular basis. His parents couldn’t be in the same room without violence erupting. One sister had almost lost an eye when a shard from a shattered vase sailed over the dinner table.

His legs weak, he lowered himself onto the bench.

There was no reason he should be sharing any of it with Nivea. All his suffering was in the past and would remain there. Eager to restore his composure, Dare flicked his wrist in dismissal. “As long as my father received good reports from the school, he had no interest in my activities. I was free to come and go as I wished. It will not surprise you that I wished to go.

Nivea rested her hand on his. “Oh, Dare, I’m so sorry. No one should suffer like that. I’m so glad you found solace here.”

He was so stunned by her reaction, he didn’t even remove his hand. He had been weak and worthless, never good enough to please his father. Knowing he was tainted, he’d erected a wall around himself and vowed to block out all emotion. No one would guess he was anything less than the image he’d perfected—the most arrogant and imperious, Lord Landis. Revealing his secret should have provoked scorn, not sympathy.

But chancing a glance in her direction, her clear blue eyes were filled with concern. Her thumb stroked his knuckles, shooting warmth up his arm. And a breeze stirred her hair, setting it to dance along her generous décolletage. One curl even had the temerity to dip inside the bodice of her cambric riding shirt.

It was quite a picture. A very sweet, desirable picture.

And it caused him to lose his mind.

Kiss her.

He was so startled by the thought, he leapt up from the bench.

Nivea’s eyes flew open wide. “What’s wrong?”

God in heaven she must think I’m a complete bedlamite
.

Here, she had just pried his most shameful secrets from him and now he wanted to kiss her? Ha! She’d probably slap him for being a pathetic coward. Not to mention, the Horshams were the closet thing he had to a family. And she was William’s sister. His sister! He had very little morality when it came to women, but he could never damage the friendship he had with William. Obviously, desire, interest, lust, or whatever crazy reaction he was experiencing must be squelched immediately.

He had to get away. Now.

Taking a deep breath, Dare summoned his most imperturbable expression. “Forgive me. I should not have burdened you with this. It was nothing. Ancient history. We need never speak of it again.”

With that, he gave her a curt bow and strode back toward the house without a backward glance. By the time he made it to his room, he was in a fury. He slammed the door and pounded his fists on his head until it throbbed.

What, in Devil’s name, was wrong with me? What was it about that woman that made me open up and bare my soul to her? Hell and damnation, I will never be able to show my face here again.

No doubt, Nivea was tracking down her brother right now, relishing the fact that she had gossip on the indomitable Lord Landis. This information was too delicious.

He groaned out loud.
Now, I’ll have nowhere to go on blasted holidays
…
Good God, I can’t even eat dinner here tonight.

Letting out a growl, he decided to pack up and leave immediately.

He rang the bell for his manservant. Then he rang again. God’s blood, where
was
he?

At that, a timid knock came at the door.

“Come in!” he bellowed.

An unfamiliar young man peered in the door.

“Where is Jackson?”

“Begging your lordship’s pardon. Jackson is indisposed at the moment. Bad pudding, he claims, although Cook won’t hear a word of it. May I send up someone else to assist you?”

Dare growled in frustration, causing the young man to take a step backward into the hallway. “No. I am fine. Never mind,” he answered sharply.