Page 69 of Bought
I swallowed and then tried to get some moisture into my dry mouth. “I was never going to—”
“Also,” he interrupted firmly, “I’m tired of secrets, so you might as well hear the truth from me.”
“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I kind of did lie to you.”
“You did. But you know a few things about me that no one else knows now, so I may as well tell you the rest.” Slowly he rose to his feet then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sir George Wyndham was a child abuser. Juliana and I had a small apartment we were going to move into after Isabel was born, but when she died, I lost the apartment. So, I was on the streets with a new baby, and I was desperate. He was a man who preyed on such desperation, and I was an easy target. He offered me a home in return for…certain services and I agreed for Isabel’s sake. The Hamiltons were trying to find us, and they were threatening to take her from me and so…” He stopped, a muscle in his jaw leaping. “Anyway, I knew eventually Sir George would find me too old and start looking for new prey, and sure enough, he started dropping hints about adopting Isabel. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wasn’t a man who could be distracted when he was after something. He had the money and power to do whatever he wanted while I…I had nothing. I was trapped in between him and the Hamiltons.” His gaze found mine, a fierce blue flame burning in it. “I had to do something to protect my daughter, so I did.”
Shock rippled down my spine, a chill creeping over my skin.
He’d been alone like I’d been alone, and he’d been abused and taken advantage of, too. Not in the same way, but he was a victim as much as I was, even though I hated admitting that. He was also protective, and naturally, he’d want to deal with the danger presented to his child.
Some people when pushed into a corner found a way to escape, while others fought back. I’d escaped. He’d fought back. Could I really blame him for that? He’d been a street kid with nothing up against a powerful, rich, older man who wanted something he had and was going to take it. What else could he have done?
“I couldn’t run,” Fox went on. “I couldn’t take her anywhere else, because the Hamiltons would have found us. Make no mistake, I’m fully aware of what I did, but Sir George was a predator, and you can’t reason with them, or argue with them. The only thing you can do is put them down.” His face was all stark planes and angles, his expression unflinching, uncompromising. He hated that old man, I could see that, and no wonder.
“These ‘services’,” I began hesitantly. “Were they—”
“They were exactly what you’d imagine.”
“Sir, I’m so—”
“No,” he said. “Not ‘Sir’ now. My name is Tennyson.”
I’d forgotten the rules didn’t apply now and it was strange to feel a sense of loss at the ‘Sir’. Especially when it also felt wrong to call him Tennyson.
I took a breath. “I’m sorry you had to do that. And I’m sorry that was the only option for you.”
He was silent a moment, then he let out a breath. “I wanted you to know the context. There was no other way out for me, and I would have died to protect my daughter.” Unexpectedly, he glanced away. “I wouldn’t have covered it up if Isabel hadn’t been with me. But she only had me to protect her and if I’d gone to jail, she’d have had only Caleb and Atlas, and I couldn’t let them take that responsibility. It was mine.”
I understood. But I could also see that what he’d done hadn’t left him untouched. Taking someone’s life left a mark, no matter how awful a person that someone was, and it was clear that Sir George had been an awful person.
“I don’t blame you,” I said, wanting him to know that I didn’t judge him. “If I’d had a knife, I would have quite happily put it in my father’s heart without a second thought.”
He looked back at me and something wordless passed between us. A shared experience of trauma, an understanding of it. We’d both been preyed on by people more powerful than we were, who’d taken advantage of us. Who’d hurt us. And we’d taken the steps we’d needed to take to protect ourselves.
How strange that I should have so much in common with a man twice my age and miles above me in terms of wealth and power.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said unexpectedly. “It’s not a weight I would wish you to bear.”
I got up from the couch then, unable to sit there any longer, going over to him where he stood. I wanted to put my hands on him, touch him, because the weight he was talking about, I could see it sitting heavily on his shoulders. But even now I felt shy, so I held my hands clasped in front of me instead.
“You had to protect your daughter,” I said. “You did what you had to do. What other choice was there?” I took a breath then added. “I know what it’s like to be powerless, to feel like there’s no way out.”
He looked down at me. “Then you’ll understand why the Hamiltons can never know. I can’t let this get out. I’ve always been prepared to face the consequences and I would have turned myself in long ago if it hadn’t been for Isabel. She’s an adult now, it’s true, but I still have enemies who would take advantage of my absence. And she doesn’t know the world like I do. I’ve…protected her from it for too long.”
I could understand his worries. But Isabel wasn’t an idiot. “I think you’ll find that Isabel’s perfectly able to take care of herself. I’m around her age and I’ve been taking care of myself for nearly seven years.”
His gaze was deeply skeptical, but he said nothing.
“Why do you hate them so much?” I asked since we were sharing. “The Hamiltons I mean.”
“Isabel’s mother was Juliana Hamilton. She died having Isabel and her family have never forgiven me for her death. They didn’t approve of our relationship, and they approved of me marrying her even less.”
I knew about Juliana, but her name had just been a word in that file. Now, I could see what that word meant. There was a wealth of complex emotion in his eyes, grief and fury and despair and a longing so intense it stole my breath.
He’d loved her.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, pathetically since I didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry you lost her.”