The Purloined Papers by Allison Lane

family news. So Chloe knew that Andrew had been wounded at Waterloo and was recovering at Seabrook. She hadn’t expected him to call, though. He’d not sent her a word – not even a friendly greeting – on either of his previous trips home to recuperate.
    It was no surprise. When he’d arrived in the orchard that day, she’d been so upset over his imminent departure that she’d tried to seduce him into staying. It had been a despicable act every bit as dishonorable as Laura at her worst. Thus she’d destroyed the most important bond in her life. In the eleven years since, she’d heard from him exactly once – a brief letter of condolence after Kevin died. And for seven long years she had feared that Kevin had learned about the day in the orchard, blamed Andrew, and tried to avenge her. Was his blood on her hands?
    Only now could she admit that her excitement over William’s invitation arose from the chance to see Andrew again. Even knowing that he hated her, she had longed for a glimpse of him.
    Forcing her attention back to the man on the doorstep, she gestured him inside. He didn’t look ill, or even injured. Nor did he look much like the boy she’d loved. It was a wonder she’d recognized him.
    Maturity had broadened his shoulders and deepened his chest. It had also added at least five inches, putting him over six feet. Soldiering had weathered his face and lightened his hair to a golden brown, making his green eyes seem even clearer. Fine lines clustered around their corners. But beyond the physical changes, war had hardened him, banishing the laughing boy who had raced across the hills and wrestled on the moors.
    Some things remained the same, though. His nearness still stole her breath. Her heart tumbled into a gallop, making her head spin.
    “Chloe.”  He grasped her hand between his own. “More beautiful than ever.”
    “Hardly.”  She forced control over her voice and body. He might ignore her dishonor long enough to call on his sister, but that didn’t mean he had forgotten. So she must banish any lingering dreams. Never again would she leave herself vulnerable. “You are recovered, it seems. Have you come to bid farewell to Laura?”
    He shook his head. “I came to see you.”  His eyes darkened. “I’ve bad news, Chloe. Your father died last night.”
    The blood drained from her head. When she reached for the doorjamb, he pulled her against his side. She hardly noticed as she fought free of the shock. “How?”
    “He fell down the stairs. It was very quick.”
    A quick death was more than he deserved. Anger rushed in, stiffening her knees so she could stand without support. “So he’s gone. It’s just as well.” 
    He gasped.
    “I’ll not pretend we were close. He never forgave my failure to attach a fortune or my refusal to lie about our circumstances. When I tried to earn enough to escape his roof, he locked me in my room and forbade all callers. The only reason he let me accept this post was that Moorside is isolated, so he could pretend I was visiting relatives. But if anyone but William had offered, he would have refused this, too.”  She clamped her jaw shut to choke off the bitterness. Her father had made her life hell with his false façades and accusations, though living with him made it easier to understand Laura. They had much in common, starting with their stubborn refusal to accept facts.
    Andrew still knew her too well, for understanding blossomed in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
    “Of course. It is a shock – even estrangement cannot change that he was my father. But I’ve not heard from him since Mother’s funeral, so his passing will make no difference.” 
    Not quite true, she realized as a weight slid from her shoulders. Seeing her in service had dented his pride. If he’d discovered her plans to buy a cottage, his ranting would have burned her ears to ashes. And he might have stopped her. Now that unpleasantness was averted. She was free to live on