“I am Sally Jenkins.” The words threatened to stick in her throat and she balled her hands at her sides to keep herself from breaking down completely. “Simone was my half sister, although she would never have acknowledged our connection. I was a bastard, you see.”
Oddly there was none of the shock she had expected to see upon his handsome countenance as he gave a slow nod of his head.
“Your father?”
“Lord Hadwell of Devonshire.”
“And your mother?”
“A mere governess of Simone’s. She died when I was born.”
Without warning his hand reached up to lightly touch her near-white cheek.
“I am sorry.”
His obvious sympathy when she had expected anger and recrimination was nearly her undoing and she was forced to bat back the threatening tears.
“It was not so bad while my father lived. He insisted that I be given a home with him and even a measure of schooling with Simone’s new governess.”
He grimaced as he accurately surmised how her presence in the Hadwell home had been received by Lady Hadwell.
“Which no doubt did nothing to endear you to his wife or daughter.”
She could not prevent her shudder at the memory of those wretched years she had spent at the mercy of Lady Hadwell and Simone. No words could express just how evil and vindictive they had been.
“They hated me,” she at last said with simple honesty. “Lady Hadwell called me a disgraceful slut and Simone did everything possible to make my life a misery. Even the servants thought my presence an embarrassment to the household. Only my father ever showed me a hint of kindness.”
The fingers cupped her cheek. “My poor dear.”
Her eyes darkened as she was forced back to those days she had hoped never to recall.
“It only became worse once my father died. I was commanded to become Simone’s maid.”
His features hardened with anger. “I suppose they hoped to humiliate you.”
“Yes.” She gave a humorless laugh. They had more than humiliated her. They had stolen every hope she had harbored for a future untainted by their spite. “And when Simone wed Lord Gilbert I was taken to that horrid house where I was not allowed to speak to anyone but my sister.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Why did you remain?”
“I had no choice. Simone ensured none of the other servants would help me. And the few occasions I did attempt to flee she made certain I was properly punished.”
“What did she do?”
Simone paused. Never before had she revealed what she had endured at her sister’s hands. It was astonishingly difficult to force the words past her stiff lips.
“She beat me,” she at last managed to admit in harsh tones. “Of course, she beat me for every mistake I made, whether they were real or imagined. But the last occasion ... an infection set in and I nearly died. In truth, I prayed to die.”
His fingers tightened upon her cheek as his gaze darkened to a smoldering ebony.
“Would Lord Gilbert not come to your aid?”
“He was past eighty when they wed and he rarely left his chambers. The only reason Simone wed him was because he was extraordinarily wealthy.”
“And close to death?”
“Precisely.” Simone’s stomach clenched as she recalled her sister’s callous anger when the elderly gentleman continued to cling to life day after day. An anger that she regularly vented on her hapless sister. “She hated living in isolation at the estate and less than six months after his funeral she was packed and prepared to travel to London. She was not about to waste an entire year on mourning a gentleman she barely tolerated.”
“And you came with her?”
“Yes, she was determined that I would witness her grand debut.”
“What happened?”
Simone again hesitated. The trip to London was still a vague fog in her mind. Perhaps because she had no desire to truly ponder what had led to her outrageous charade. Or the undoubted sins that lay heavy on her soul.
She unconsciously wet her dry lips, intensely aware of the dark gaze that watched her every expression.
“We had been upon the road for two days when we were set upon by bandits. They had followed us from the posting inn where we had stayed the night before.”
He sucked in a sharp breath at her words. “You were injured?”
“I suffered a blow to the head that knocked me unconscious when we attempted to flee the villains and the carriage overturned in a ditch. When I awoke ...” Her words broke off and she abruptly buried her face in her hands.
All the horror she had felt when she had managed to drag herself from the carriage rushed back like a physical blow. How many nights had she lain awake recalling the bloody bodies that had been scattered across the road? Even now, months later, it did not seem quite real. More like a persistent nightmare that would not be dismissed.
Moving to place his arms about her, Gideon surrounded her in warm comfort.
“What was it, Simone?”
The strength that he offered her allowed her to slowly raise her head and confront the ghastly memories.
“I ... I climbed out of the carriage to discover that Simone had been shot along with all the servants. Even her dog had been killed.”
“Oh, my sweet,” he breathed softly, “you must have been terrified.”
“It was horrible. I kept going from body to body hoping that I was mistaken. I could not believe they were all dead.”
He ran a comforting hand down her back, his eyes filled with compassion.
“At least you survived.”
“Yes.” More than once she had wondered what fickle fate had kept her from being among the bodies on the road. Was it nothing more than blind luck, or had there been some other purpose? A reason she had been spared? “The bandits must have thought I was already dead.”
“Thank goodness. They obviously did not intend to leave behind witnesses.”
A bleak expression settled upon her pale features. “No. They were very thorough. I lost everyone that I knew in the world on that day.”
Chapter 12
Brushing his cheek over Simone’s satin hair, Gideon fought back the violent regret that he could not lay his hands upon those who would dare to harm this woman.
The bandits he could punish at his leisure, but her deeper wounds came from the family that should have loved and cared for her.
To think her own sister would beat her, and treat her with such malicious hatred ...
Bloody hell. It was a testament to her will that she had survived such a brutal and lonely life. And that she had somehow managed to keep her indomitable spirit intact.