“Because of the baby?” Queasiness twisted his stomach, as he imagined how frightened and alone she must have felt.
She shook her head. “No. At that stage, the pregnancy didn’t show, although if I’d found work, I would have had trouble keeping it, once people saw I was carrying a baby. I couldn’t find work, because nobody could understand a word I said.” She paused. “I’d only been in London a couple of days, but with every hour, I was more and more afraid. And while I kept my head down and tried to avoid attention, men had started to notice me. I had a few close calls.”
Malcolm could imagine, although he didn’t want to, damn it. “So what happened?”
Shame dulled her eyes, and he braced to hear the worst, despite her earlier assurances. “I decided that if someone could steal from me, why couldn’t I steal from someone else? I didn’t owe the world anything, and being honest had done me no favors at all.”
A relieved breath escaped him. “You turned pickpocket?”
He shouldn’t feel too relieved. Theft was a capital crime, although pregnant women were in most cases transported to the hell of Botany Bay, instead of carried off to face the hangman. Not much of an improvement.
“I tried. But my first victim caught me in the act.”
“And handed you over to the magistrates?” Malcolm’s earlier relief evaporated into horror.
She shook her head. “No. Although any other fellow would have. He was an older man, obviously well-to-do. He had no reason to take pity on me, but he did. He must have seen some potential in me. Instead of summoning the law, he took me to a chophouse and gave me my first hot meal in a week.”
“And asked you to be his mistress?”
“Not straightaway. First, he asked me to join his theatrical company as a dancer.”
Her spectacular beauty had saved her. He was still jealous of Samuel, who had enjoyed her presence, while Malcolm had been going mad searching for her. But even through his cantankerous male reactions, some trace of reason told him that without Samuel, she’d have been in dire trouble. Likely she wouldn’t have survived. That meant that Patrick wouldn’t be alive today either.
She went on. “He invited me into his house.”
“I’ll bet he did,” Malcolm said in a grim tone.
She cast him an unimpressed look. “It was all quite innocent. A lot of the company lived with him. I’m sure he took me on as an act of charity. At least at first. After a week on the streets of London, I was nothing much to look at.”
Except that pure beauty would shine through dirt and hunger and poverty. Samuel Ashley must have known straightaway what a treasure he’d found.
“And he asked you to share his bed?”
She sent him a disapproving look. “He was a good and generous man, and I believe he was acting out of a generous heart. It’s too long ago for you to be jealous, Malcolm.”
A thousand years wouldn’t be long enough. But he reminded himself that he was a civilized man. At least on the surface.
Anyway, Samuel Ashley was dead, poor sod. Even if Malcolm wanted to knock his lights out, it was too late.
He drained his brandy, relishing its burn. “Go on.”
When Rhona raised the bottle to pour him more, he shook his head. Not long after he’d lost Rhona, he’d sought oblivion in strong spirits, but they’d never helped. And the physical misery of emerging from a bout only made his situation more painful. He’d never adopted the habit of heavy drinking.
“Losing you devastated me,” she said, and now she didn’t sound like she told a story about someone else. Now she sounded like a woman who knew too much about sorrow. “I think my heart stayed frozen until Patrick was born. After that, my heart belonged to him.”
So like her to go straight to the essence. “You loved Samuel.”
“I honored him. I admired him. He was a good, kind man, and he was wonderful to me. And, yes, I loved him. Not as I’d loved you. I wasn’t capable of loving anybody the way I’d loved you. When your father abducted me and convinced me that you’d seduced me with sweet-sounding lies, I wanted to die. If I hadn’t been carrying Patrick, I would have given up.”
Malcolm shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t. You’ve always been a fighter. Even without Patrick, you’d never crumble into a heap and let life defeat you. I’m not belittling your despair, but it’s not in you to surrender.”
He should take comfort from that, even if she spoke of their love in a bleak past tense. But he couldn’t help thinking how close he’d come to finding her. If he’d read any of the more gossipy papers, he’d almost certainly have seen a sketch of her. He’d have discovered that his lost love had become the celebrated Mrs. Ashley.
What then? Rhona would have already been wed to Samuel. Malcolm could have no legal claim on her or his son. “You shared his bed.”
Her mouth flattened. “I was his wife.”
She’d never been Malcolm’s wife, whatever he felt in his heart. “How did you come to marry him? You said he asked you to be his mistress.”
“He did, a month after I joined the company. To my surprise, I found I loved being on the stage, and I made friends among the other actors.” Her eyes glowed with remembered excitement. And why not? Malcolm could imagine that being the celebrated Mrs. Ashley had been marvelous. Especially as she’d sailed so close to disaster before Samuel had rescued her. “Thanks to Samuel, the men who hung around the theater kept their distance. Most of the time. Even better, I discovered I was good at what I did. I was a dancer for a week, then I had a few small speaking parts, despite my Scots accent, and a song or two. Within a month, audiences were noticing me.”
“That can’t have gone down well with the other actresses.”
She shrugged. “There was some jealousy, and the leading lady joined another company after a shrieking scene.”
He could imagine. “So you became the leading lady instead.”
“I did. That’s when Samuel invited me to be his mistress.” She took a sip of her brandy. “I had to tell him that I was expecting your baby. I thought Samuel would throw me out on my ear, but he was a saint.”
A saint who wanted Malcolm’s woman for his own. It was an unworthy thought, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.
Rhona continued. “He offered to marry me to give the child his name. Instead of going into a rage because I had to retire from the stage for a few months, he devoted that time to training me. He taught me to become the actress that Sarah Ashley eventually turned out to be.”
Malcolm was almost becoming used to the fondness in her voice when she spoke of Samuel. “You enjoyed that.”
“I did. I learned how to craft a performance and carry a company with me. It was magic becoming all these different women. Especially as I was so desperate to wipe out any trace of Rhona Macleod, the gullible ninny who had let Malcolm Innes make such a fool of her.”
“You must have changed your name before you married Samuel.” Or else his agents would have heard news of her.
“I started on the stage as Sarah Gill. But Miss Gill’s career only lasted a few weeks. After I gave birth to Patrick, I went back as Mrs. Ashley.”
“So all up, you had a career of, what, a dozen years or so?”