Page 47 of Charity

He shut the door behind him and leaned against the wood. “I’m sorry about my brother.”

Estella shrugged. “Your brother has some strange notions in his head. They’ll soon disappear, as all his wild flights of fancy tend to do.”

“I think not this time.” Lynton grimaced. “He paid an unexpected call on your son while the boy was engaged with orphanage business. Staines made no bones about wishing the trustees all gone from Carrington’s house.”

Estella’s heart fluttered. “He hasn’t lost his touch at clearing a room. What did he talk about?”

Lynton set his hands to his hips, his gaze troubled. “Nothing specific, but he hasn’t lost his habit of meddling. I foresee him continuing his new association with your son. It will be remarked upon and society will take notice. The current rumor is that you and Staines had a lover’s quarrel, and his coming to your son’s house, when you were obviously from Town, will be fuel for speculation. If they consider the boy and Staines too closely, they might imagine a resemblance to the duke.”

Estella closed her eyes, willing herself not to remember the resemblance between her son and this man. But it was there, despite her not knowing how it could possibly be true. Oscar had worn that same look of contrition on his face when he’d been scolded as a boy, when he was in the wrong and knew it. She opened her eyes.

Lynton hadn’t moved. He stood still as a statue—an older version of her son. Very similar. Too similar for chance to have had a hand in Oscar’s creation. How could she not have seen it before? How could she have shared a bed with Lynton Manning and not realized it?

Estella spun about, pressing her hands together over her churning stomach.

“The first night of the Whitcombe’s house party,” he whispered. “You were expecting your husband that night. I knew it. Saw it. Carrington had whispered in your ear all afternoon, and I had to sit through that interminable dinner while he smiled at you and brought a bright blush to your cheeks.”

Estella remembered that day and night had been the best of her marriage.

Manning drew closer. He stopped behind her back, but didn’t touch.

“I had gone outside to cool my temper after you had retired to bed. I was jealous and heartsick all over again, as I had been when you’d married that slimy bastard. While I was venting my fury to the dark night, he left the house. He walked right by me with Lady Whitcombe and Lady Realford on each arm. They didn’t see me. The women were laughing about you waiting in vain for the bastard.”

Estella’s heart raced in anger over a dead man and his faithlessness, and over Lynton taking advantage of her that night. “So you decided to take his place.”

Lynton’s hands settled on her shoulders lightly, and then went away. “That was not my intention. I don’t know what I was thinking. I suppose I went to tell you where he was and what he was doing. I wanted to point out his flaws so you would leave him.”

Estella hugged herself, remembering even more of that rare evening than she thought possible. It had been a perfect memory until now. She’d thought her husband had bedded her the way she’d always imagined and needed. “You said not one word. Not one.”

“I couldn’t. By the time I entered your bedchamber, I realized you wouldn’t leave him. That you would avoid any scandal and stay with him to preserve your good name.” His hands settled on her shoulders again.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you’d told me the truth. It would have at least prepared me for the rest of my marriage,” Estella snapped. She forced a deep calming breath into her lungs and let it out slowly. “Why did you take his place?”

Behind her, Lynton’s head pressed against the back of hers. “You touched me.”

Estella frowned. “That’s hardly an encouragement to share another man’s wife’s bed.”

His rough breathing behind her caused her heart to race. “With you, it’s like fire on grass after a long dry spell. I have loved you all my life. I love you still.”

Lynton didn’t move, but his rough pant of breath over her neck sent her pulse racing. Again, she reacted to him with astonishing ease. And she had, too, the night he’d taken her husband’s place. He had been…thorough. Gentle. And wonderful.

Estella covered her face with both hands. She trembled and fought the urge to turn around. But to see his face would make everything she had unwittingly done real. It would make this conversation utterly impossible to deny.

Lynton rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Your son looks at my face and frowns, love. It is only a matter of time before he pieces together the puzzle.”

A sob tore from Estella’s throat. Dear God, what would Oscar do when he discovered the truth? What would he think of her then?

“I think, perhaps, we should tell the boy the truth before Staines gifts his new nephew with a larger townhouse. My brother has threatened to do so already.”

Estella dropped her hands. “I’m sure your brother will enjoy himself at my expense.”

When Lynton drew her into his arms, Estella didn’t fight the feeling of comfort that swept her. She clung to him and wiped away her tears on his coat.

“He is excited to discover he has new family to dote upon. You know how he is, forever spoiling those he can.” Lynton pressed a kiss to her brow. “He means well. He’s just vexed at me for keeping secrets. He always wanted you in the family, and he hates that I took orders. Perhaps he will be happier now that I’m leaving the church.”

Estella pushed away. “You’re not leaving because of this?”

He smiled and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “No, not entirely. But I very much fear for the children of the orphanage. Carter wants to pull out, and you know if he does the rest will go, too. I cannot bear the thought of the children homeless again. Princeton Park is being opened again in readiness for the small arrivals.”