The Greatest of Sins Read online

  If the total and permanent loss of him bothered her, she did not say so. ‘I have promised Father,’ she said, insistently. ‘And St Aldric, of course. I cannot go back on my word.’

  But she could. They could run, right now, somewhere far away, where there would be no one to question them. ‘They would understand.’ In an instant, he imagined a whole life with her. And another. And another. And then he put them all aside as hopeless. Any choice required her co-operation. He had tried to win it and failed.

  ‘It is you who must understand,’ she said. ‘I promised myself to a good man. He needs me. You know it is true. Set me free.’

  His pain had no effect on her, now that she was resolved. She was as cold as he’d ever wanted to be, when he longed for her. Perhaps her affection was never more than a fleeting thing. But when they had lain together, it had seemed real enough.

  ‘I know what is needed. I know what is required. And I know what people expect. But what do you want, Evie? What do you want?’ For a moment, her eyes clouded and he was convinced that he could win her with reason.

  ‘Was all your education for naught?’ he said. ‘You claimed an interest in medicine. There will be no place for it in the life you are choosing.’

  And then he lost her again. ‘Perhaps not. But, I will be able to accomplish much, as Duchess of St Aldric.’

  ‘You want to do good?’ he asked. ‘You might help me in my work. We would do good together.’ He imagined her, working at his side. He had thought it foolish at first. But now he could not imagine a better future.

  She shook her head. ‘It was a wonderful dream, Sam. But it was nothing more than that. It is time that I learned more conventional ways of helping others.’

  ‘Without having to bloody your hands,’ he said bitterly. ‘I will not bother you again, Lady Evelyn. Not with my heart. Not with my work. And you can settle for your tepid marriage and your distant benevolence. I wish you well of it.’

  ‘Next you will speak nonsense about differences in your ranks, or your not being good enough or rich enough for me.’ Evie gave an exasperated sigh. ‘In the end, the truth is this: St Aldric is honourable. He is truthful with me. You are not.’

  And that was the rub. The one point he could not refute. St Aldric was a saint and above reproach. For all his arguments about the nobility of his love, Sam had bedded her the moment they were alone. And he could never, ever tell her the truth about the past. He would not change and she would not forgive.

  He had lost. He had been so sure that, now he was free to marry her, it would all fall easily into place. He had forgotten to consider her feelings, her needs and her sense of justice, which was as strong as any man’s. So much about her was strong. And it was all lost to him.

  His skin went cold and the world had a distant, cotton-wrapped quality, as his brain tried to deny what he was hearing. Shock, he thought. The prescription was brandy and lots of it. But that would be later, when he was away from her and not trying to salvage his pride. ‘Very well, then,’ he said. ‘You must do as you promised, to St Aldric and to your father. Marry him. Be happy. Truly, that is what I wish for you. And that is a thing I cannot give.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Sam neglected the afternoon examination of the patient, instead sending Evie, telling her to do whatever she felt was necessary to help her betrothed. She had returned to Michael, shortly after their conversation, taking her lunch with her so that she might share a meal with him.

  Sam had eaten alone, in silence, wondering how long it would be until he could make a graceful exit from the house and the lives of the happy couple.

  When he next saw the duke, it was well past supper. The man’s condition all but answered the question.

  ‘Doctor Hastings,’ St Aldric said with a smile, sitting up further in the bed so they might talk eye to eye. ‘How long do you mean to keep me here, now that I am recovering?’ His voice was stronger and his colour better.

  ‘Another week, at most,’ Sam said. ‘We must be sure that the last trace of illness is gone before you resume your regular duties.’

  ‘I think I shall go mad, with another seven days of inactivity.’

  ‘You shall have Lady Evelyn to keep you company,’ Sam said, managing an ironic smile. ‘But if you mean to descend into mania, I will leave the name of another physician who might help. A school friend of mine is now keeper at Bedlam. I am sure he will be glad of the change.’

  ‘You will leave?’ The duke raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you trying to escape me again? I did not presume that this illness would convince you to accept my offer. But there is no need to run off to avoid me.’

  ‘I am returning to sea,’ Sam said. He was not yet sure if it was true. But neither did he care. His future did not really matter, now that he knew he would not share it with Evie.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot.’ The duke was grinning at him now, as if his life plans were all some enormous joke.

  Sam kept his voice level. ‘I understand the difference in our rank, your Grace—but I will not allow you to address me in that way.’

  The smile disappeared. ‘Devil take the difference in our rank, Sam. For just a moment, do me the kindness of remembering that we share a father, and that I am your elder by several months, and leave it at that. And I say you are an idiot if you stir from this place.’

  Sam sighed and settled back in the chair at the bedside. ‘If it will prevent you from agitating yourself, then very well, Michael.’ The name felt odd on his tongue, but he forced it out. ‘Say your piece.’

  ‘We both know the reason you are leaving. It is Evelyn, is it not?’ And now the duke pinned him to the spot with a glare. He had not seen the man use his rank in such a way. It was quite effective.

  Sam weighed the possibility of lying, but only briefly. It seemed the Duke of St Aldric would not stand for prevarication. And if they were truly brothers, there ought to be some truth between them. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It is because of Evelyn.’

  ‘The solution is simple, then. I will retract my offer.’

  ‘The hell you will.’ He hoped that the new St Aldric liked the change in his demeanour. At the moment, he did not care that one must not dictate to a duke. ‘Are you overcome with the idea that you can claim me as family? Biology does not give you a right to order my life for me. Or are you merely so caught up in your own rank that you think you can move people about like furniture? The honour of a lady is at stake and you will do nothing to compromise it.’

  St Aldric laughed. ‘I do not think the usual rules apply in this case. By giving her up, I would be doing her a service. She is staying with me out of pity. If there was the slightest chance of her heart breaking, you would be there to pick of the pieces, quick enough.’

  ‘She would not have me.’ Saying the words was like plunging into an ice bath. It was a brutal counter-shock to the numbness he had been feeling all afternoon. But it took some of the guilt away, so he continued, ‘I tried. Heaven help me. I tried to take her from you. But she will not go. The breach between us is too great. I waited too long. And I have lost her trust.’

  ‘I am sorry.’ St Aldric settled back into the pillows again, looking as though he were the physician and Sam the patient.

  ‘Don’t be. She will forget me, once I am gone.’

  ‘She belongs with you,’ the duke reminded him, his voice patient and low.

  ‘But she is better off with you.’ Sam squared his shoulders and fiddled with the instruments on the table at his side, dropping them one by one into the bag on the floor. ‘She will be a good wife, an excellent duchess. I wish you well. But you must understand if I do not stay for the wedding.’

  ‘And this is how it must end, with all three of us being unhappy?’

  ‘You? Unhappy?’ Sam laughed, bitterly. ‘The least you could do is take pleasure in your victory over me.’

  ‘It was never my goal to be anyone’s rival,’ St Aldric said, with a shake of his head. ‘I will do nothing to make Evelyn unh
appy, for she is a sweet girl, and we could have done well together. But to find that I have family, only to lose it again?’ He sighed. ‘I cannot break with her and be an honourable man. And I cannot manage to keep you both.’

  ‘That is the gist of it,’ Sam agreed. ‘At least, when you were at your weakest, I did not kill you. The thought crossed my mind. But I expect you know that.’

  ‘I suppose I am glad that you resisted,’ St Aldric replied. ‘Although it might have been more of a mercy to finish me. If I am not to have an heir, there is little point in continuing.’

  ‘Do not talk nonsense,’ Sam said firmly, a doctor again. ‘You have many years ahead of you. And I make no guarantees either for or against your chances of siring children.’ Considering the extent of the illness, he was not optimistic. But anything was possible.

  The duke was giving him a sympathetic smile again, as though he was the one to be offering comfort. ‘You do not understand. I do not expect you to.’ He lifted the sheet and glanced down at his still-swollen body. Then he winced and dropped it again.

  ‘It is better than it was yesterday,’ Sam reminded him. ‘You are healing. And it could have been worse,’ he said, as encouragingly as possible. ‘Men have died from this. Or been deafened. Or disfigured.’

  ‘And I have been rendered impotent,’ the duke snapped.

  ‘We cannot be sure.’

  ‘Until I have tried for years without success?’ he said, sounding every bit as bitter as Sam felt. ‘As everyone continues to remind me, I am a young man, with a long life ahead.’

  ‘You are,’ the doctor agreed.

  ‘To what purpose is this long life I am to have? Am I to work for a lifetime, caring for my people and my land, only to leave it to no one? When I die, it will all fall to ruin.’

  ‘You cannot know that.’

  ‘The not knowing is likely to drive me mad,’ his brother said, raking his hair with his hand. ‘I will live. But St Aldric is as good as dead. And I must watch all that my family has built, in the end of its days.’

  ‘Our family,’ Sam said, feeling the fleeting sense of kinship again.

  ‘But in this you cannot help me,’ St Aldric said, staring at the wall across the room. ‘I am alone.’

  ‘You have Evelyn.’ Sam did his best to make his voice encouraging.

  ‘God help her. This cannot be what she wished for.’

  ‘You are a duke,’ Sam reminded him.

  ‘And less of a man than you.’ Michael stared back at him. ‘She loves you. Would you want to know that your wife will spend every moment of your marriage dreaming of another man?’

  It was Sam’s turn to look away.

  ‘Do not bother to lie about it. If this is a day for difficult truths, what is one more? Will you have the courtesy to admit it?’

  ‘What I want does not matter,’ Sam said firmly. ‘It is what she wants that matters. I never should have forgotten that. I handled things badly. Now, she has made her decision. She chose you.’

  ‘Does she know the extent of my illness?’

  ‘She read the medical books herself. It is the reason she will stay with you. She would not have you be alone.’ Apparently, it did not matter how lonely Sam might be. ‘If you break her heart over this, or disgrace her in any way, I will come back and take the life I have just saved.’

  ‘Then God help us all,’ St Aldric said, collapsing back on to the pillows.

  ‘If this is an example of His mercy, I would prefer to do without it,’ Sam said, dropping the last of the tools into his bag and closing it. ‘And now, Michael, if you will excuse me? I think I shall go down to the port and wait for a high tide and a fresh wind.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sam was gone.

  Eve had watched as he’d left the duke’s room and walked past the sitting room without stopping. Shortly thereafter, she’d heard the slam of the door to the servants’ stairway. And then she had seen no more of him.

  She’d found a letter on the table, clearly outlining instructions for the duke’s care, and what she should do if his condition changed for the worse. There were the names of several prominent physicians she might contact with problems. She could also contact them if St Aldric persisted in his desire for a personal doctor. If his condition devolved into sterility, as he feared, there might be some treatment for it that Sam had not learned. Other opinions might be sought.

  It was everything she’d have hoped for from a truly dedicated doctor. And it was nice to know it came from Sam. Now that the decision had been made, he showed no jealousy and no desire for revenge. He wanted, above all, what was best for the patient. It seemed, in some things at least, he was exactly the man she’d have wished him to be.

  But there was no word to her at all. Had she really expected a personal message, in a place where any might read it? An apology, perhaps. Or one last entreaty to change her mind and come to him. If he loved her, as he claimed, did she not deserve to know where he was going and what he was likely to do when he got there?

  It was even worse than when he’d left the last time. Then she could at least write to him, even if he did not answer. This time, she had told him she did not care. And he had removed the temptation to change her mind, by making it impossible to do so.

  It was just as well. When it came to Sam, she was no better than the Biblical Eve. She resisted now. But at some point, all her noble plans to be loyal to the duke would fail her. She would weaken and run back to Sam. But if she was married, they could not allow it to. He had severed the link between them with surgical precision.

  It had been the right thing to do. Michael was her choice. Given the way things had turned out, he was the only choice she ever should have made. Their love might be a pale imitation of the kind she had hoped for, but he needed her in a way that Sam never had.

  Sam was gone and she was alone. But that meant that the responsibility for the care of the duke fell to her. So she did as Sam would have done and made sure that the patient was settled for the night, offering medications that were refused as no longer necessary and refilling the glass at bedside with fresh, cool water. Then she had left him in peace until morning.

  Tonight, she did not return to her room. Instead, she slept uneasily in the bed that she had shared with Sam. One of the housemaids had been deemed immune, having suffered through the mumps a year or two before, and was allowed limited access to the third floor, to provide the necessary cleaning. She must have visited here, for the sheets had been changed and the bed made up properly. There was no trace of what they had done there in anything but Eve’s memory.

  The next morning, before ringing for breakfast, she washed and dressed herself, taking special care with her appearance, so that she might be a pleasant sight for her betrothed. Then she went to the end of the hall to receive the tray from Abbott, approving the contents. They were hardly a proper English breakfast, but were they were much less bland than the day before.

  Then she knocked once and entered the duke’s room with a serene smile, sure that no trace of her heavy heart would be apparent to him. ‘Good morning, Michael. I have brought you your porridge.’ She set the tray down where he could reach it. ‘There is the cream for it. Honey as well. And a nice cup of coffee.’ She fell silent, reminding herself that, since the illness had not rendered him a blind, deaf, idiot, she did not need to recite the menu.

  ‘Evelyn.’ He sounded tired and she put her hand on his, willing strength into him.

  ‘You are doing much better today. I can see the difference.’ The illness was abating. The swelling had reduced much from the previous day. But he looked grey, as though he had not slept well. She hoped that this was not a sign of relapse, but merely proof that fighting the infection had tired him.

  ‘That is good to know,’ he said. ‘But where is my brother physician, so that I may thank him for it?’ There was a kind of dryness in the statement, as though there might be some irony in offering those thanks.

  ‘He … is gone
.’ She swallowed, unsure of what to say. ‘I shall be both doctor and nurse to you now.’ She gave another artificially bright smile, hoping that this would be sufficient for an explanation.

  ‘Why this sudden change in plans?’ Michael asked, still expressionless. ‘I assumed he would stay with us through the wedding, at least.’

  ‘He does not like to stay too long in any one place.’ It might even be the truth. She had not known the adult Sam long enough to ask his opinion. ‘I believe his intention was to go back to the navy.’

  ‘Then he is a fool.’ St Aldric offered no other explanation for this.

  ‘You need not worry. He assured me, before he left, that you were all but mended and that I would have no trouble tending you from this point.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded eagerly. Too eagerly perhaps, for he was staring at her with the same ironic expression he had used at the news of his doctor’s departure.

  He was focused on her now. And for a moment, she felt that she was truly in the presence of a duke and not some handsome but powerful friend. ‘And did he inform you of the likely result from this illness? He assured me you knew, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well.’

  ‘That you might be unable to father children?’ She put off the smile and made sure that she did not stammer over the words, for it would only make them worse. She must be as stoic as Sam would have been, when sharing an unfavourable diagnosis. ‘Yes, I am aware. But we cannot know for sure until we have tried.’

  ‘You mean, when we have married,’ he said patiently.

  ‘Of course.’ That was what she should have said. Now he might think she knew far too much about the process. She should be innocent, and ignorant, if she was to carry on with this farce.

  And it was wrong of her to think of her impending marriage to the Duke of St Aldric as a farce. It was an honour. All the more so because he needed her.

  The silence between them had carried on far too long. What was she to say next? Or should she pretend that it was a comfortable thing between two people who would be so close as not to be bothered by a little quiet?