“I’ve no idea, but I will think of something eventually.” Holland gestured to the house. “Please, he would not like you left alone out of doors tonight after all that has happened. As I am sure you’ve discovered, he’s very protective of those he loves.”

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Merrick poured himself a drink to steady his conflicting emotions and drained it in one gulp. Although Arabella and his half brother had not realized he was there, he had lingered and heard their whole conversation. Despite the betrayal, he was concerned for Holland’s future and where he might end up. His older brother had been with him since he’d come of age. They were friends as well as family.

“There you are, Rothwell. I was just about to come searching for you,” Grayling grumbled and he drew close. “Rosemary would like to return home. The children are half asleep and wanting their beds.”

“I’m sorry. I had a few matters on my mind.”

“Well, I am not surprised.” Gray leaned against the sideboard. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He glanced toward the entrance hall where Lady Grayling, the children, and Aunt Pen and Arabella had gathered, saying their farewells. Gray’s carriage must have been called while his mind was elsewhere. The girls were leaning heavily against their stepmother and grumbling to her. Any moment there could be tears. He knew Grayling’s daughters well enough to know sleep was what they needed.

Aunt Pen appeared as she always did—aloof and unimpressed by the tired children’s interruptions. He would never be able to tell she’d ever been a mother and had harbored such a secret all these years. He could barely believe his aunt was Holland’s mother, or anyone’s, for that matter. It was unfathomable that his half brother would make up such an outlandish and potentially damaging story if it were not true. Holland worried just as much for the family’s reputation as he did—if not more at times.

Merrick couldn’t confide in Grayling about what troubled him. He would have to grow accustomed to the idea on his own. “I think not.”

Grayling slapped him on the shoulder. “Come see us tomorrow, or are you going back to London?”

Tomorrow he should return to London. Arabella would not marry him, and the longer he stayed, the more damage would be done to her reputation. Yet he couldn’t bear to leave. If Arabella went to London in Aunt Penelope’s company, he would have difficulty seeing her. His aunt was sure to get in the way even if he attempted a proper courtship. “I’ll remain with Arabella and follow her back to London when she goes.”

“Good man,” Grayling murmured. “What’s decided with her by the way? I know she told everyone the depth of your feelings when we were at the ruins, but what of hers? Have they changed in any way?”

“I don’t believe they have. She’s made it very plain that she doesn’t want to marry again.”

Merrick glanced past Grayling to where Arabella stood, speaking with Lady Grayling in hushed tones. The pair seemed firm friends and confidantes already, even if Parker had hinted that Lady Grayling had a scandalous past. Gray hadn’t offered up an explanation and there wasn’t time now. One day he would ask Arabella where exactly she had met Rosemary, but not today. He had enough surprises to grapple with already.

Grayling tapped his arm, drawing his attention. “You can barely take your eyes from her. I would not have thought a proper lady would suit you, but you seem enthralled. Are you going to let her get away so easily?”

“I want her to want to marry me, Gray. Whatever she decides is best is what I’ll have to accept. Wherever she goes, I will too, and we will see what develops.”

“And if nothing changes?”

Merrick pushed his glass away decisively. “I’d rather not think on that, but I suppose I’ll have little choice but to bury what I feel for her and attempt to start over.”

“That might not be as easy as you think.”

He stared at the beautiful woman who’d claimed him body and soul. She was unique and dear to him. She’d smoothly become a part of his life, and when they parted, he didn’t think he’d be whole. “Nothing in life is ever easy. I’d hoped finding a bride might have been somewhat simpler than this.”

“Then I’ll hope that Arabella sees sense soon.”

Merrick followed Grayling to the door, pausing at Arabella’s side to wave them off. When the carriage had drawn sufficiently far away, he ushered her inside and made sure the doors were securely locked. He met his aunt’s gaze several times, but in the end decided to hold his tongue and not say a word about recent revelations.

“Good night, ladies. I think I’ll turn in.”

Arabella’s face fell. “As you wish.”

He nodded. His aunt’s expression grew puzzled and he turned away. He did not want to argue with her tonight. He did not want to hear her side of the story or her denial. The only opinion he wanted to hear was from his brother.

He made his way upstairs and found where his half brother rested his head. A light shone beneath the door and when he drew closer, Holland’s baggage was the first thing he noticed. Already packed, standing beside the door in wait for the morning. Holland would be gone as soon as he could. Anxiety filled him and he pushed the door open slowly. The room was neat and orderly. It would be easy to believe the room hadn’t been in use except that Holland lay on top of the bed, dressed to leave, as if he couldn’t wait to get away. “I always wondered if you slept fully dressed.”

A brief smile flickered over Holland’s face and disappeared again just as quickly. He did not rise as he usually would, but then again, Merrick had dismissed him. He wasn’t a servant anymore.

“I cannot imagine why my habits are of any interest to you,” Holland said in a dull voice lacking any interest in what he was doing visiting him at that hour.

He turned his face away and winced suddenly. He didn’t complain. He expressed no outrage that he’d been injured. Merrick pulled a chair close to the bed and sat on it backward, folding his arms across the carved back.

He lowered his chin to his forearms and studied his brother, looking for signs of Aunt Penelope in his features. He noticed nothing different from what he’d always seen—a man of his father’s making. “How is your head feeling now? Any better?”

“Does it matter?” Holland sighed heavily. “I will be gone in the morning, never fear.”

Merrick chewed his bottom lip. A servant’s life was often a great deal harder than it would be for one employed in his household. At Holland’s age, without a reference to show another employer or connections he could admit to, he would have a difficult future ahead. “About that. I heard what you said to Arabella. Where are you going?”

Holland closed his eyes, his skin turning a distinct shade of red. “Away. It doesn’t matter,” he ground out. “I’ve never been wanted anywhere.”

When Holland put it like that, Merrick’s chest tightened painfully. Merrick would have drowned in his responsibilities long ago if not for Holland. Their half brothers, too, would have suffered and might never have come to his attention. Holland was the glue that bound their odd family together. “You were wanted, you are wanted, brother, but I could have done with the whole truth too.”

Holland opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to stare. “You would never have wanted me around if you knew who my mother was. Admit it, you despise her.”

He had and still did not want that woman involved in his life. Aunt Pen would meddle and pry and report his business to Rutherford. Who liked to be spied upon? He doubted she would change her habits for anyone. For years she’d ruled the family with the same opinions as her father. Family first—family meant legitimate Fords. She was not happy he chose to support so many of his father’s mistakes. “Despite that, you are my brother. I must know where you are.”