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Quinn's Undying Rose

Page 20

   


Oh, he remembered every painful moment of it. How could he ever forget?
“I snuck into your house that night because your father wouldn’t receive me.” He remembered it just as though it were tonight. She’d looked angelic. She’d glowed, smiled at him when he’d entered her chamber.
“You wanted to tell me something then, but I didn’t let you talk. I wanted to tell you first what had happened to me. God . . . ” He paused and shoved a hand through his hair. “I almost died on that battlefield. And had Wallace not been there that evening, if he hadn’t turned me into a vampire that night, I would have been gone forever. But he offered me a way to come back to you. I did this for you. So we could be together again.”
Quinn stared into her blue eyes, but he didn’t really see her. He saw only what had happened that night. “You were afraid of me when I told you. You shrunk back from me, disgusted. As if you thought I would hurt you. I would have never hurt you. I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you. You wouldn’t listen. You didn’t even see ME. You saw a monster, but I wasn’t a monster. I was still the same man. I loved you!”
The last words made him choke. His heart broke a second time.
“And you trampled on my love. And as if that wasn’t enough, you lied to me. You kept my own flesh and blood from me!”
Quinn’s words sent a chill down her spine. Rose had never seen him so furious, so wild. And he had every reason to be. She would have reacted the same way.
The glare Quinn lashed at her cut deep into her heart.
Finally she pushed him away with both hands. Maybe she’d pushed him too far, but she couldn’t stop now. She still needed his help.
“What was her name?” he asked, his voice suddenly calmer.
“Charlotte.”
“That was my mother’s name.”
“I know.” When she’d given birth, she’d still believed that everything would turn out fine. That Quinn would return. Out of love and respect for him she’d named their daughter after his mother, a woman he’d adored and loved.
“Where was she when I came back?”
She didn’t really want to talk about those painful days, but she knew if she didn’t answer his questions, he would never agree to help her. She had to pacify him.
Rose pinned her gaze at the window, looking out into the darkness. “When it was obvious to my parents that I was with child, I showed them our marriage certificate. My father was livid. They sent me to a country estate. They told everybody in London that I was sick. I gave birth there, but they took Charlotte away from me. They placed her with a farmer’s family. It hurt to let her go, but I knew I would come back for her.” She lifted her lids. “Once you came back, we would have collected her. But . . . ” Her voice broke.
Undeterred by her anguish, he continued his questioning. “What happened to her?”
“She grew up as the farmer’s daughter. She married and had children. Only one survived. Charlotte died at the age of sixty-eight.”
Quinn turned away, but not before she’d seen a wet sheen suddenly covering his irises.
For the first time, she wondered whether it had been a mistake to hide his daughter from him. Maybe he would have loved her, cared for her. Doubts that had risen years ago resurfaced again. Had she been wrong? Should she have accepted him after he’d come back from the war, after he’d come back a changed man? No, not a man, a vampire. Could they have had a life together? No matter. It was too late now. She couldn’t turn back time, even if she wanted to.
“Did she know you were her mother?”
Rose nodded even though Quinn remained with his back to her. “Not at first. But I told her later. I looked out for her. She was never in need of anything. I protected her. And she made me swear to protect all her offspring too once she was gone.”
“She knew what you were?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
“She was a brave girl. Never afraid of anything. When I told her, she accepted it. She made me show her my fangs. She showed no fear.”
She’d been so proud of Charlotte then. To have a daughter who had accepted her, loved her. Her descendants hadn’t been as welcoming. When she had told Charlotte’s son who she was, he’d tried to stake her right there and then, his country bumpkin prejudices too deeply ingrained in him to listen to her explanation. She’d had to wipe his memory of her to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. That was why she had not revealed herself to the others, but simply watched over them from afar, just as she watched over Blake from a distance. He had never met her, didn’t know who she was. And she wanted to keep it that way.