Free The American Earl by Kathryn Jensen Page A

to feel, she thought. She waited patiently for more of an explanation. Eventually, Matt’s anger seemed to subside.
    â€œI’m sorry, this isn’t your concern. Families can be so difficult.” He looked at her. “Of course, growing up in a loving brood on your Illinois farm, you wouldn’t understand. You’ve probably never had someone important to you walk out of your life when you needed them most.”
    She stared at Matt, understanding in that precious moment that he’d revealed something to her he probably hadn’t meant to. “Your father left you and your brothers?” she asked gently.
    â€œNo,” he said tightly, “my mother. She left my father and us three boys without a word of explanation. The earl didn’t know what to do with us. Packed us off to boarding school as soon as each of us turned six. Until then there were nannies. We rarely saw him.”
    Abby chewed her bottom lip sympathetically. Such a cold childhood. “So Christopher lives in Scotland?”
    â€œYes, he’s the youngest. Just married an American woman. They’re restoring the castle. My olderbrother, Thomas, told me she’s a stunning woman and he was right. She’s very good to Christopher’s daughter, too. Actually, I haven’t seen either of my brothers in over a year.”
    â€œAnd your father?”
    â€œI haven’t seen him since I left England when I turned twenty-one.”
    She gasped. “Over ten years!”
    His jaw locked. “Don’t look at me like that. The man ignored me all my life. Why should I make an effort to play the doting son now? Besides, if he wanted to see me, he’s perfectly capable of booking a flight and coming here. He has more money than he knows what to do with, and he’s in good health.”
    Despite the tough front Matt was putting up, Abby sensed his pain. “Pride sometimes interferes with our speaking our real feelings.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” he barked.
    â€œI just meant, your father might want to tell you that he loves you and is proud of you…he just doesn’t know how.”
    Matt’s face clouded again with anger. But just as quickly his expression softened as he looked down at their hands, hers resting over his. “I’d like to think that. It’s just difficult to believe, after all this time—” He broke off, his voice choked with emotion. “I remember her.”
    â€œYour mother?”
    He nodded. “I was very young, but I remember how beautiful and soft she was. How her face glowed when she bent down to take me in her arms. She was everything he was not. Tender, affectionate, playful.”
    The limo rolled on, past the Broadway billboards and onto 58th Street. Abby wished they had the entirenight to talk like this. She felt so close to Matt, on the verge of breaking down walls and understanding who the man was behind the tough shell of the international executive.
    The question came to her, as it must often have come to Matt—if Lady Smythe had loved her children so dearly, why had she left them? He must have seen the question in her eyes.
    â€œFor the longest time, I was sure she had gone on holiday. Just forgotten to tell us that she was off to Cannes or Biarritz. But the months became years, and my father refused to speak her name or tell us anything about her reasons for leaving or where she might be.”
    â€œI’m so sorry, Matt,” she whispered, over the fist-sized lump in her throat. She could hardly imagine the depth of his pain.
    â€œI decided as soon as I was old enough, I would leave England and never go back. I’m at peace with myself now. I keep busy. I—” He broke off and looked out the window, and she could tell he was struggling for control of his emotions.
    â€œDid you ever try to find her?” she asked.
    He shook his head, unable to speak. He wanted to ask her to please