Improbable Eden Read Online Free PDF Page B

averted his eyes briefly, then gave Eden the ghost of a grin. “Naturally, I ended up in her bed. I was courting my dear Sarah and had sworn over and over again that my liaison with the Duchess had ended. Then, early in the new year, I was sent to France to meet with King Louis on Charles’s behalf. Barbara had flounced off to Paris the previous autumn. Imagine my shock when I learned she was about to give birth. It was most embarrassing—indeed, it could have been disastrous to my marriage plans with Sarah.”
    Eden was still trying to take in the enormity of what the Earl had told her. The details seemed unimportant. Distractedly, she nodded. “I should imagine,” she said vaguely.
    â€œ Sarah can be the sweetest, kindest, gentlest creature in the world,” Marlborough asserted, his face brightening at the very mention of his wife’s name, “but she can also be jealous. Like the rest of the world, she knew about my first daughter by Barbara. But if she had discovered I’d not kept faith with her after my avowals to break off with the Duchess, I might have lost her forever. To make matters worse, my father was insisting on a match with the Sedley heiress. Sarah’s family was as poor as mine, and it seemed more sensible for me to wed for money rather than love.” His expression turned wry. “The problem was, you see, that Barbara wasn’t inclined to take on yet another child. She was no longer young, and had seen to the other six, after her fashion. To avoid scandal, I agreed to take you.”
    Eden was trying to imagine the tiny baby, lying innocently in a cradle in Paris, while an infamous courtesan and an ambitious army officer confronted each other with more thought for themselves than for her. Yet Marlborough was with her now. Apparently his conscience had caught up with him. Eden gave a plaintive little shake of her head.
    The Earl patted her hand. “I know, I know, it sounds most callous. Yet … there it is. I did my best, finding a suitable family to raise you. The Berengers seemed ideal—solid, hardworking, honest people who were about to emigrate to England. And after Sarah and I had started our family, I’d tell her about you.”
    Eden looked at Marlborough expectantly, but he was grimacing. “Life doesn’t always turn out as we plan. Sarah and I had grave disappointments at first. We finally had our wonderful children, but at the time, I couldn’t bear to flaunt you. And then, somehow, the years went by.”
    So they had, thought Eden, there in the house on the Beult with her silly dreams of being a royal princess and the taunts of her foster family and the sense of never belonging to anyone. And all the while her father had been not a king but a famous noble, and her mother a wanton courtesan with a passel of bastards. It was not the portrait Eden would have painted, but, to paraphrase Marlborough, there it was.
    The Earl had finally let go of her hands and was brushing at his hair. “There can be no doubt that you are the child I gave to the Berengers nineteen years ago. Even then your hair was an amazing color, and unlike most babies, you had dark eyes when you were born.” A wistful smile touched his lips. “You may not believe me, but I’ve carried the memory of you in my heart.”
    Eden did believe him. The Earl of Marlborough seemed to wear integrity as easily as he wore his fine linen shirt. But there were still many questions to be answered. “Having waited so long to find me, why now? Why ever, for that matter?” She could not restrain her customary candor even for an earl.
    The gray-green eyes flickered. “Duty. Guilt. Curiosity, too. I suspect.” He shrugged, then his eyes seemed to ignite, as if a fire had been lighted behind them. The transformation was so subtle yet startling that Eden winced. Marlborough was taking a deep breath. “I need you. I need a