Yuletide Treasure by Andrea Kane Page A

assumed her sisterly allegiance would prevail. I explained that we were far from destitute, but that luxuries would have to be forfeited, at least for a time. Instead of compassion, she looked at me with an expression that proclaimed me the Devil himself. She accused me of intentionally squandering her inheritance, and of being a brutal and unfeeling brother. Then, she locked herself in her room. The next morning she was gone. No note, no message, nothing. I didn’t hear from her for months. Until, one day, she reappeared on my doorstep, begging for my help.”
    â€œShe was with child,” Brigitte inserted quietly.
    A bitter nod. “She’d met a superbly wealthy Italian aristocrat who’d promised her the world. Instead, he filled her with his seed, then discarded her to return to his home … and his wife. Throughout her confession, Liza wept and wept, swearing to me that she’d learned her lesson, that she’d changed. God help me, I allowed myself to believe her.” Eric swallowed, his arms tightening reflexively about Brigitte. “Evidently, Liza inherited my parents’ restlessness. Three weeks after Noelle’s birth, she announced she had no patience for motherhood and no tolerance for my unexciting, frugal existence. In short, she was bored and, thus, had decided to leave England and travel abroad. When I brought up the subject of Noelle, she shrugged, repeating that she hadn’t the patience for an infant, nor had she a clue about child-rearing or an inclination to learn. She suggested I raise Noelle myself or, if my poverty precluded that choice, I farm Noelle out to some barren woman who would rejoice in the chance to nurture a child of her own. Quite frankly, Liza didn’t really care who reared Noelle, so long as she herself didn’t have to do it. I was jolted into a heinous reality I’d tried desperately to deny: that the sister I’d raised from infancy was a shallow woman with an empty heart and a hollow soul. I went insane. I bellowed until the walls shook, smashed Liza’s room to bits, threatened to lockher in whatever remained of its confines until she came to her senses. I did everything short of striking her—and, God help me, sometimes I thought myself capable even of that. Nothing worked. When Noelle was six weeks old, I was summoned to London on urgent business. I was gone one night. When I returned, Liza had vanished, leaving behind a newborn babe and a staff that cringed the instant I walked through the door.”
    â€œLord only knows what lies Liza told them,” Brigitte inserted furiously.
    Eric shrugged. “At that point it didn’t matter. I didn’t blame them for their fear. All they’d heard for weeks was Liza’s sobbing and my savagery. I’m sure she had little trouble convincing them I was a madman. And, as I had no desire to amend their misconceptions, I dismissed them. They were weak with relief and lost no time in fleeing. Within hours, Farrington was deserted—except for Noelle. I packed her things into my phaeton and drove her to the home of the closest decent family I knew: the Gonerhams. I scarcely recall what I said when I thrust her into their arms; something about Liza being frightened and running away. They were too stunned, and too terrorized by my precarious state of mind, to turn Noelle away. I retreated to Farrington, intending never to emerge.” A shudder ran through him. “I did precisely what I’d denounced Liza for doing: abandoned Noelle. But, Lord help me, I had nothing left to give her—no love, no tenderness. Nothing but bitterness and resentment. And, how could I risk creating another Liza? Making all those irreparable mistakes again?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t.
    â€œSome three months later, I received word that Liza had contracted influenza and died. I felt nothing. It was as if she’d died already—and taken me with