The Gentleman's Deception

by Tuft, Karen

  “He was a handsome man,” Lavinia began, “at least when I was a small child, he seemed that way to me. Tall—though not as tall as you—with deep auburn hair and gray eyes.”

  “That explains a few things,” Lucas said.

  She smiled wanly. “My hair is much redder than his ever was. He had beautiful hair. Thick and wavy, and he was forever brushing a lock away from his eyes. This one unruly curl . . . I imagine that is why my mother and all the other women, for that matter, were attracted to him.”

  “Your mother . . . ?” He left the unspoken question hanging in the air.

  “I scarcely remember my mother. Hannah has always been more of a mother to me than she was. I recall blonde hair and the scent of lilies. Snatches of songs she must have sung to me. Kissing my cheek, asking me not to forget her.” Lavinia rested her hand on her cheek and could almost conjure the sensation she’d felt back then. “I have forgotten so much. I’m sorry, Mama,” she whispered.

  “She loved you,” Lucas said. He set his hand on her shoulder, offering comfort. How odd it felt to have a man touch her and know it wasn’t because he wanted something for himself. Lavinia’s eyes burned.

  “She left me, Lucas. She could have taken me with her, but she didn’t.”

  “Perhaps she had no choice.”

  “Her name was Sally. That’s all I know about her. Just Sally. I don’t even know if my father was married to her or not. He never spoke of her.” She blinked away her tears and then turned to smile at him. Here, in the willow tree, with his face just inches from hers, she could see a scar, a fine white line that ran along his hairline near his forehead. His eyes, though hazel, were predominantly green. Clear, sober eyes that looked steadily back at her.

  She had told him of her parents. It felt freeing somehow. But now she wanted to learn more about him. “We have spent all our time talking about me, even after you said I could question you to my heart’s content.”

  “You have only to ask,” he said.

  “Good. Tell me about Isobel,” she said. She’d wondered about Isobel since she’d witnessed the woman’s reaction to Lucas’s return.

  “Isobel is my eldest brother, Thomas’s, wife, as you already know,” he answered simply.

  She stared at him.

  He heaved a sigh. “You’re not going to let it go at that. Very well. As children, Isobel and I had an affection for each other that had grown—I mistakenly thought—into something more by the time I went away to university. During my brief absence, she and Thomas formed an attachment and married soon after.”

  “Brief?”

  “You don’t miss anything, do you? Yes, brief. Shortly after their marriage, which occurred at the end of my first term at Cambridge, I enlisted in the army.”

  Isobel had quickly turned her affections from one brother to the other. A single university term was a mere few months. “She broke your heart.”

  He snapped a twig near his face and tossed it to the ground. “If so, it has mended.”

  “Has it?” she asked him softly.

  He looked her in the eye. “Yes.”

  “Why did you choose to enlist when you could have asked your father to purchase a commission for you?”

  “I was eighteen, nearly nineteen—a foolish young cub whose masculine pride had been hurt. I suppose I enlisted as a way to make everyone suffer guilt—‘See the poor, hurt young man who is now mucking about in trenches and may be shot and killed, all because unrequited love has driven him to extreme measures.’ I don’t know. I didn’t ask my father to purchase a commission for me because he would have talked me out of going, and I was determined to go. I think I also blamed my family for being complicit in Thomas’s courtship of Isobel. It was all rubbish thinking on my part. I learned my lesson the hard way over the course of seven long years.”

  “Tell me about Spain,” she said.

  “It’s difficult to appreciate the beauty of a landscape when one is on a long march. One simply concentrates on putting one’s foot in front of the other.” Before she could respond, he went on. “Spain is dry and hot. It can be dry and cold. And it can also rain torrents. I had my fill of all three. It is not like England in appearance at all, and I suppose, had I been there under other circumstances, I might have considered it exotically beautiful. But I cannot separate the place from the experiences I had there. At least not yet.”

  She reached out and ran her finger down the scar along his hairline. “Did you get this while you were there? Do you have other scars?”

  “Yes.” The word was nearly a growl that came from deep inside his throat.

  Lavinia had flirted over the years; alienating male admirers wouldn’t have been good for box-office receipts. She wasn’t flirting with Lucas though; her questions were direct, as were his answers. She’d touched his scar impulsively, out of compassion, and doing so had made his experiences in Spain real to her. But the willow tree fairly vibrated now from the attraction between them. She didn’t know what to do, having never allowed herself to feel attracted to any man. It had always been too dangerous before.

  She mentally called on Ruby to help her out of her predicament. Ruby would lower her eyelashes and say some sighing, witty thing that would simultaneously encourage and deter the gentleman in question. But Ruby was nowhere to be found.

  “Lavinia—” Lucas said, his voice still sounding deep and rough and doing something startling to Lavinia’s insides.

  “If I were younger,” Lavinia chirped, interrupting Lucas, afraid of what he would say or do and of how she was feeling, “I would pull on a pair of breeches and climb to the very top of this tree.” She tipped her head back to view the top of the canopy and then pointed. “See? To that branch. It must be a wonderful view up there. I would be able to see all of Alderwood, I daresay, and even to the village beyond.”

  “Not quite to the village. I know, because I’ve done exactly what you are suggesting on more occasions than I can count during my childhood and early youth. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Susan herself hasn’t sneaked out here in a pair of our brothers’ breeches to do the same.” He paused. “Lavinia—” he began again.

  “I knew I liked Susan, from our first introduction. And Rebecca too; she’s such a lovely girl.”

  “I think so too. But before you begin to wax rhapsodic over each of my siblings and start listing all their qualities in alphabetical order—”

  “I wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. Don’t be ridiculous. But I can’t help but admire Susan, who is so clever; I quite like that about her, and Rebecca is sweet and gentle. And they have both been kind and welcoming since we arrived.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” he said. “Lavinia—”

  “What? What do you want?” she cried, unable to deal with the anxiety any longer. “Do you want to kiss me; is that it?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth at her words. “Well, yes, frankly, but—”

  “Then do it! Get it over with!”

  “But,” he said with emphasis, “what I was going to suggest is that we spend some of our time alone here discussing how to proceed since my rashness has gotten us into a fix. And what the devil do you mean by ‘get it over with’?”

  She froze, her eyes glued to his face. He brought his free hand up, and she flinched and pressed back against the trunk of the tree. But instead of slapping her or grabbing her, as she’d half expected him to do, he laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

  “Devil take it—you’re as white as a sheet,” he said, looking stricken. “You can’t think I was going to . . . Lavinia, I would never strike a woman or assault one. Never. I’m appalled that you would think, even for a moment, that you were in any kind of danger with me. Have I not proven myself trustworthy to you so far? There have been plenty of opportunities for me to take advantage, if that had been my intent.

  “And furthermore, when I said I wanted to kiss you, that was the truth. But even at that, I would never do so without your permission or
your desire to kiss me back. I have sisters, for heaven’s sake! If some man were to . . . to any of my sisters, I would call the bounder out, and my brothers would have to get in line behind me.” He turned and stared out into the distance while he appeared to rein in his emotions.

  “Lucas,” Lavinia said once she had found her voice. “I’ve never kissed a man before.”

  He turned and looked at her skeptically.

  “See? Even you believe I have a history with men. I can see it in your face.”

  “I don’t know what you can see in my face. But I do know you have a history with men, and I don’t believe it has been a particularly pleasant one. You reacted with fear just now. I saw that same look on the faces of the women and girls in Spain. War doesn’t always make heroes. It frequently brings out the worst in people.” He cupped her cheek with his hand, and she nearly wept. “Tell me, Lavinia, about these men.”

  “You’re right. Must I say more? I have been kissed, Lucas, but I have never kissed.”

  “Where was your father when all of this was going on?”

  “He was too busy at the pubs and bawdy houses to care, and when he died, I’m sorry to say, it was no great loss to anyone. Even me.” She suddenly felt tired to the bone. The day had begun with such hope and had gone through such highs and lows since then. “Perhaps it is time to return to the house,” she said.

  “Very well. I’m truly sorry about the betrothal. Once again, you have been ill-used by a man without your consent beforehand.”

  “Oh, Lucas, I did the same to you, did I not? It would be the height of hypocrisy if I were to hold it against you. So, for the time being, I shall be your devoted betrothed. You have joined up with a band of actors, you will recall. We are as comfortable playing characters as we are at being ourselves.” More comfortable, in truth.

  He climbed down from the willow tree and then assisted her down, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her from the branches to the ground. “Come then, Lavinia. Let us return to the house and continue our charade.”

  “Lucas,” she said before she lost her courage. There was one thing more she wanted him to know, needed to let him know, but Ruby Chadwick’s flirtatiousness and wit were still not to be found anywhere. Only Lavinia remained—and she was terrified by what she was about to say.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I think I may want to kiss you. Sometime. But not today.”

  His eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “I can wait,” he said.

  It was exactly what she’d hoped—no, needed—to hear.

  She fell a little in love with Lucas then.

  Chapter 13

  The following morning, Lucas set out on horseback for Primrose Farm, accompanied by Isaac and Thomas and Finch. Lucas had borrowed one of his father’s horses so Hector could enjoy a full day of rest and grazing after so many days of travel.

  The day was overcast, and Lucas suspected it might rain that afternoon. Hopefully they would be back at Alderwood long before that happened. He’d truly had his fill of rain and mud while in Spain. Rain and mud were rife with bad memories.

  He located the ramshackle sign that pointed the way to Primrose Farm and led the others down the lane until they reached the farmhouse.

  “Oh, dear me,” Finch said from atop his mount.

  “That’s putting it lightly,” Thomas added. “You certainly aren’t marrying her for her inheritance, if that wasn’t obvious already.”

  “Thomas, a little decorum, please,” Isaac cautioned before Lucas could say anything himself—which was just as well, for he wouldn’t have been as circumspect as Isaac had been.

  Thomas smirked as he dismounted.

  “Well, let’s see what we’re about here, then,” Isaac said after he and Finch dismounted as well.

  “There’s a fellow not far from here, Allard, by name, who used to be the foreman,” Lucas said. “I’m going to go find him. I expect he can shed some light on the situation for us.”

  “Excellent idea,” Finch said. “Folks living nearby likely built their livelihood around this farm and would have been affected by its failure. Knowing how many people remain who could possibly be lured back would be critical information to have.”

  Lucas needed no more encouragement. He turned his mount and headed back to the main road and then followed the directions Allard have given them the day before, finding the cottage with no trouble at all.

  “Mr. Jennings, it’s an honor, sir,” Mrs. Allard said once Lucas had explained who he was and why he was there. “Come in, come in.” She ushered him into the cottage like she was rounding up a sheep that had strayed from the flock. She was plump and pretty in a round-faced sort of way, with an equally round-faced but wiggly toddler balanced on her hip. She seemed the type who would keep the more reserved Allard on his toes.

  “Allard told me all about it yesterday. Such great news! I can’t help saying how very thrilled everyone will be that something’s to be done to make things as they was.” She wiped some drool off the toddler’s chin with the corner of her apron. “He’s out back tending to the chickens. Have a seat, and I’ll inform him he has company.” She curtsied, nearly tipping off-balance due to the uncooperative toddler, and exited the room.

  Lucas propped himself on the edge of a fairly worn chair, unsure if it would fully support his weight. The room was shabby but still felt homey and welcoming, with a braided rug Mrs. Allard had undoubtedly made herself covering the floor and freshly cut flowers sitting cheerily in an earthenware pot on the table.

  Allard arrived shortly thereafter, drying his hands on a towel before reaching out to shake Lucas’s hand. “Welcome back, sir! I’m that pleased to see you again so soon. I’ve asked the missus to bring in some refreshment—or would you care to take luncheon with us?”

  “Neither, thank you. I’m wondering, Mr. Allard, if you can spare an hour or so of your time. I’ve brought two of my brothers and our steward to inspect Primrose Farm for Miss Fernley, and I wonder if you might join us and fill in the gaps of our knowledge as it relates to the history of the place and those who worked there.”

  “I’d be only too pleased to do so, sir. I shall saddle up my horse and join you there in, say, half hour’s time?”

  “Excellent. Bid your good lady goodbye for me.” He tipped his hat and left.

  Locating Allard hadn’t taken long at all, and when Lucas returned to Primrose Farm, he found Finch still poking around the exterior of the farmhouse. His brothers were inside the main parlor—in deep discussion about Lucas’s betrothed and her farm.

  “I take your meaning, Thomas, but I’m certain she’s an altogether fine person, once one gets to know her,” Lucas overheard Isaac say.

  “I, for one, am appalled,” Thomas replied. “The only asset Lucas is getting from this marriage is the woman herself, and if he wanted her so badly—as I’m sure he and many other men do—he should have set her up discreetly with her own household, not proposed to her and introduced her to Mama and our sisters. It’s utterly insupportable. Isobel was in such an ill humor last night, I could scarcely tolerate it.”

  “Clara was shocked at first, I will confess, as were we all,” Isaac said. “And that hair of hers is rather brazen. But—”

  Lucas had heard enough. He stalked away from the farmhouse, hands clenched, teeth grinding, working with all his might to bring his anger under control. If he confronted his brothers the way he was currently feeling, he’d end up using his fists rather than his intellect. It was what he’d been required to do for the past seven years—fight, battle, do damage to the enemy. Protect the innocent.

  Except they weren’t the enemy; they were his brothers—decent men with decent lives and wives and families. If they believed such things about Lavinia, what must lesser men assume about her?

  If her father were alive, Lucas would beat the man to a pulp, as he was still sorely tempted to do to his brothers at the moment.

  I have been kissed, Lucas
, but I have never kissed.

  Those words had spoken volumes.

  I think I may want to kiss you. Sometime. But not today. The innocence he’d seen in her face when she’d spoken those words to him—they had not been the words of a wanton, although they had succeeded in thoroughly seducing him.

  He would do all in his power to defend her and her honor.

  Thankfully, Allard arrived on his nag shortly thereafter. Lucas hailed Finch and introduced him to Allard, and then the three of them joined Thomas and Isaac inside the farmhouse. Over the next few hours, they explored the property, and Finch took copious notes. Lucas kept himself at a distance most of the time, unsure he’d gained enough control over his emotions. Every time he looked at Thomas, in particular, he felt violent.

  “Are you well, Lucas?” Isaac asked, taking him aside while Allard was showing Thomas and Finch the old wind pump workings. “You seem out of sorts, and yet you were in high spirits when we set out.”

  “I’m well enough.”

  “Are you sure? It really seems to me that something is amiss.”

  “I’m well enough, Isaac,” Lucas said more firmly. “Let us be about our business and return home, shall we?”

  He walked away from Isaac and arrived at the wind pump in enough time to hear Allard and Finch discussing what parts would be needed to get it back into operation. “That’s one thing settled,” Finch said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the air. “Mr. Allard also assures me that there are enough men in the area to make quick work of restoring the farmhouse at least. They were all employed here, and Allard knows them well.”

  “Aye, good men and lads, they are,” Allard said. “All I need is the word and the work can begin.”

  “Excellent,” Lucas said. “I have assured my betrothed, Miss Fernley”—he shot a disparaging glance at Thomas—“that I would apprise her of our findings before any plans are put into action. I’ll get word to you within the next day or so.”

  All four men looked perplexed by Lucas’s words. “Begging your pardon, but what precisely do you mean?” Finch asked. “I was under the assumption that we were to begin work immediately.”