The Baron and The Enchantress (An Enchantress Novel Book 3)

by Paullett Golden

  When he glanced at Miss Chambers, he was surprised to catch her looking back at him. Had she been assessing him? Disapproving his clean and tidy appearance? With a lilt at the corner of her lips, she returned her attention to the family, exchanging words with Cuthbert as he rocked the newborn.

  Walter lost himself for a moment in admiring the arch of her neck and the curve of her waist, her movements nothing less than graceful. Not until she came towards him did he realize she had taken the baby into her arms to bring to him. Miss Chambers’ head bent close to the bundle to whisper soft words.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight to his other foot. Walter felt notably awkward.

  “Would you like to hold Lady Freya, Lord Collingwood?”

  Not especially, he thought. What was he supposed to do with a baby?

  “Mimic me,” she said. “Hold up your arms like this.”

  He obeyed, mimicking the positioning of her arms with a bend of his elbows, creating a hammock with his forearms.

  “You’re a natural, my lord.”

  Before he could dissuade her, she placed her own arms into his, standing so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. And then a baby was nestled in his arms. To his dismay, she withdrew once Freya was settled safely.

  He swallowed against the lump in his throat. What if he held her too tightly? What if he dropped her? What if he made her cry? Walter was terrified and overwhelmed.

  Nestling the baby’s head into the crook of his elbow, he swallowed again and looked down. Freya smiled toothlessly, a tiny bundle of happiness, her slate-grey eyes gazing up at him in wonder. It was love at first sight all over again.

  “Welcome to the family, little one,” he said.

  She gurgled.

  Though Lizbeth had auburn hair and green eyes, both lighter shades than his own, the baby notably took after her father’s dark features. Looking up, he realized Miss Chambers watched him intently. Was it too far-fetched for him to wonder what a baby might be like between her and himself? Would the child have reddish-brown curls or black? How absurd to question a nonexistent child’s likeness when the woman of his dreams was determined they were opposites never to attract. Never mind that up until this point, he had had no interest in a family of his own.

  But he knew she was the one.

  Reaching into the cradle of his arms, Miss Chambers took Freya into her own to return to Lizbeth. Walter remained standing apart from the others, watching, yearning.

  “Lilith will be helping me interview nurses,” Lizbeth was explaining to Mama as she took Freya.

  “It will be so much easier, my dear, having your sister-in-law living here,” Mama said to her niece. “She will be an excellent mediator between you and the nurse, and we cannot deny her experience with children. I’m relieved I will be leaving you in capable hands.”

  “Oh, but I won’t be living here,” Miss Chambers interjected. “I return to Allshire in a little over a fortnight.”

  Gasping, Mama placed her hand to her bosom. “Preposterous! There’s nothing for you there. Your home is with your family where you can be cared for. No more of that nonsense about returning. I’ll not have it.”

  “Your concern is appreciated, my lady, but I do have a life in Allshire and am content as I am.”

  “Sebastian!” his mother cried. “Talk sense into your sister!”

  Lord Roddam, standing behind Lizbeth with his hands on the back of her chair, said, “You think I haven’t tried, Hazel? I’ve been hoping to wear down her will during this visit, but she’ll not listen to reason. She’s set in her ways, a stubborn Lancaster through and through.”

  “I’ll not hear of it,” Mama insisted. “You are a member of this family, Lady Lilith, and simply cannot return to old ways. You are a lady now, don’t you see? Your home is here where you can be supported.”

  Walter could see Miss Chambers bristle, her posture rigid, her lips pursed.

  Mama was not finished. “Enough of that nonsense. I know just the thing to convince you. Let us, you and I, venture into town this week for shopping. I do love shopping, and I’ve quite the eye for fashion, if I do say so myself. It will mark your embarkment on a new adventure!”

  He held his breath, waiting for a sharp set down from Miss Chambers.

  Her eyes fixed on his before she addressed his mother. “I should like that, Lady Collingwood. I accept because you offer out of kindness, and I am overdue in making your better acquaintance. But do not think it will dissuade me from my present course. On one thing, though, we must be in agreement. I insist you call me Lilith.”

  Mama cast a more-than-obvious glance at Walter before taking Miss Chambers’ measure, a mischievous grin on her lips. “Only if you call me Hazel.”

  As though sensing she were no longer the center of attention, Lady Freya began to cry, a breathy wail.

  Mama and Uncle Cuthbert took their leave of the family with warm words and high spirits. Walter followed them out of the sitting room with a quick glance to Miss Chambers who watched their departure.

  A few hours later, Lilith sat in the conservatory, reading a book from Sebastian’s library. Which book, she could not honestly say, as she had re-read the first page repeatedly for the past hour without absorbing a single word. Lord Collingwood was not the only object of her attention, though he did dominate her thoughts more than anything else.

  She had been unguarded in the morning hours, still exposed from an emotional evening. That did not change the fact that she knew she was in trouble. As much as she had denied it before, she knew for certain he was taken with her, and now she had given him reason to think she felt the same.

  The trouble was, she did feel the same. Only, there was a difference between his attraction for her and hers for him. He saw her as an eligible match. She, however, knew they could never be, for it took far more than attraction to live happily ever after, especially when illegitimate girls did not marry titled boys.

  All morning she had tried to convince herself she only liked him because he was the first handsome and decent man to pay her any mind. When that course of thought did not hold water, she then tried to persuade herself into believing she saw him as a means to an end—a way to have a family in her desperate and advancing years. It, too, was all hogwash, of course. She liked him because she was attracted to him and had been from the first moment she laid eyes on him.

  And now his mother was in on it. Lady Collingwood, Hazel rather, wanted to take her shopping of all the silliness.

  What was she supposed to do? The simplest course of action was to tell the truth and be done with it, tell him she was a bastard and watch him run the opposite direction. And yet, it was not so easy. He was so different from the aristocrats she knew in Allshire. Though they had not spoken many times, the few times they had showed her a man of warmth, a gentle spirit with a soul of gold. Having seen him in full dishevelment hours ago, she could not unsee him, the lover behind the blushing glances, the masculine physique beneath the pomp, the reddish curls dusting the top of his chest usually hidden by his cravat, the tender longing in the emerald eyes.

  Before that morning, she had held his title as a shield against his charm, for he could never be a real suitor if their stations were so far removed. Seeing him behind the title had been her undoing. She wanted to give in to her desires, allow herself to be Lady Lilith, courted by Walter Hobbs, Baron Collingwood, and trussed by his mother. Did it all have to be so complicated? Could she not have a bit of sunshine in her life?

  A knock at the far end of the conservatory disrupted her reading of the forgotten book. A charming head of russet curls poked around the door. Her heart skipped a beat. Setting aside the book, she smiled an invitation for him to join her.

  Lord Collingwood bowed. When she indicated for him to sit, he chose the chair closest to her, leaning his body in her direction, his elbow resting on t
he padded arm of the chair, one leg crossing over the other.

  “Evelina?” Lord Collingwood asked, looking at the book she had tossed aside.

  “Oh, is that what’s called? I hadn’t noticed. Sebastian insists I’ll enjoy it, but I can’t get beyond the first page. Have you read it?”

  “Never heard of it.” He shrugged. “Is the first page so terrible?”

  “No. I’m distracted. I’m certain I will enjoy it if Sebastian recommended it.”

  “He’s a man of good opinion. And I say that for no other reason than he married my cousin. Clear signs of intelligence and good taste.”

  Lilith laughed at his jest.

  “Yes, well, without beating about the bush, I’m here to apologize for my mother,” he said unexpectedly.

  “Your mother? Whatever for?”

  “For prodding you about moving to the castle. I could tell it bothered you. My mother doesn’t mince words, as you’ve probably gathered by now. She is blunt but caring. She wants everyone in the world to be happy, and if she can have a hand in that happiness, she’ll stop at nothing to do her part. I hope you took no offense, for she meant none.”

  “Rest assured, I took no offense, not once I realized she meant well.”

  His next words caught her unprepared.

  “I hope you won’t find me impertinent for saying this. I suspect I know why you’d prefer to stay in Allshire, Miss Chambers.”

  Lilith stared at him, aghast. Did he know she was illegitimate?

  When she made no response, he continued. “From what I’ve learned about you, I gather you’re fiercely independent, proud of all you’ve accomplished, and are determined to resume your work helping women and children in the parish. Am I warm?”

  Not until her fingers ached did she realize she had been clenching her hands, afraid he would speak the words that would sever their chance for something more than friendship. Looking at him now, his eyes hopeful, his brows raised in question, she knew she did not want him to discover the truth. She did not want to see his admiration turn to scorn.

  “You are not wrong, Lord Collingwood. It is difficult for me to imagine a life without my practice.”

  “Walter,” he said, a bashful smile on his lips. “I would be deeply honored if you would call me Walter. We are, after all, among family.”

  “Only if you promise to call me Lilith.”

  Her heart beat erratically at the sight of his shy smile broadening, a man victorious in securing the given name of a woman he fancied. Oh, yes, she was in trouble.

  Chapter 7

  The hearth fire crackled, warm flames licking hungrily, hissing at the cool air seeping through stone. The parlor inhabitants, ensconced in a game of cards, sat indifferent to the fire’s efforts to keep them warm.

  Every day for the past several days had been the same—a warm and sunny morning with an afternoon of leaden skies and cold rain.

  Walter took advantage of the mornings to repeat his run from earlier in the week. His body thanked him, as did his waistcoats. More to the point, it gave him time to think and plan, to envision the orphanage he hoped to build, to envision life with Lilith.

  A great many details were yet undecided, but at least he had a sense of direction.

  Lord Roddam drummed his fingers against the table.

  Walter looked up to find an arched brow mocking him over a fan of cards. So lost in his daydreams, he had missed his turn.

  “Distracted?” Roddam inquired, his other brow arching to mirror the first. A telltale grin teased the corners of his mouth as he lowered his cards.

  “What makes you ask? I’m merely plotting my next move.”

  Roddam grunted. “I’m winning.”

  “Now, now, no need to rub it in.”

  “Nay. The fact that I’m winning tells me you’re distracted.”

  Before he had a chance to answer, the parlor door opened, catching the attention of the two gents.

  Lilith stepped into the room.

  Her cheeks were flushed and her smile wide, the coiled coiffure ever so slightly windswept, strands of black escaping about her shoulders. Her dress, he noticed, must be new, for it was not one of the usual dresses, nor was it ill-fitting, indicative of Liz’s old dresses. No, this one framed Lilith’s figure in collar-heating ways. His eyes caressed her, noting with interest the pale, sapphire blue. The style was understated, simple in design, but of the latest fashion. It emphasized her natural vivaciousness.

  Both gentlemen rose from their chairs and bowed, Walter’s bow deeper and more reverent, his heart beating a tattoo to see her looking so spirited.

  “Did you lose Hazel at the modiste?” Roddam asked, as Lilith approached their table.

  “Almost. She didn’t exaggerate about loving to shop. Alas, I dragged her away before she purchased the lot, but only just.”

  Walter eyed the door. “I suspect we’ll hear about fans and bonnets for the remainder of the day. Did you have to lock her in her suite? It’s unlike her to delay bragging of her latest conquests.”

  “You’ve been granted a brief reprieve,” said Lilith. “Your saving grace is our visit to the nursery. She couldn’t tear herself away from the fun Mr. Trethow and Lizbeth were having with Freya.” With a laugh, she added, “Never underestimate the charm of peep-boo to entertain adults more than babies, especially a newborn who would much rather be sleeping.”

  His hand on her shoulder, Roddam offered his seat to Lilith. “Sit. Warm yourself. I’ll ring for tea while you tell Collingwood about your shopping adventure.” He did not wait for a response but walked away to the bell rope.

  Without further invitation, Lilith took the seat across from Walter.

  Wearing his ardor on his sleeve, his smile broad and his eyes admiring, he asked, “Am I to look forward to a conversation on bonnet colors?”

  Her laugh, deep and throaty, was genuine. “You should be so lucky.”

  “I wouldn’t have assumed you a lover of shopping; yet, here you sit, glowing with happiness and showing a new dress to its advantage.”

  The blush tinging her cheeks warmed his soul. His smile broadened.

  “You noticed the dress?”

  Her hands smoothed the jaconet muslin, fanned fingers running the length of her midsection from waist to hip. Although the motion revealed her to be self-conscious of the dress, his mouth went dry.

  Swallowing against his parched throat, he said, “How could I not notice? You’re radiant.”

  Her blush deepened. Avoiding eye contact, she glanced to Roddam who remained conspicuously on the other side of the room.

  “Yes, well, you do know how to flatter a girl. I must admit to feeling silly—whenever will I wear this in Allshire?”

  He held his tongue. If he had anything to say about it, she would not be returning to Allshire.

  Tracing the inside of his collar with a finger, he redirected the conversation. “Did you find a dozen treasures you couldn’t live without?”

  Her eyes met his beneath sooty eyelashes. “It wasn’t so much the shopping I enjoyed as the company. The apple has not fallen far from the tree. Your mother is as much the charmer as you, my good sir.”

  Oh, how his heart did pound. “Your resilience to survive the day does you credit.”

  “It was not so difficult. In fact, I owe you an apology,” she said, looking sheepish, if such a woman could look sheepish.

  “An apology?”

  “A confession, more like. I should not have been so quick to judge you or your mother.” She picked at the embroidery encircling her sleeve. “Considering my own brother has been an exception to the rule, I should have suspected you might be different.”

  “Different? How so?”

  “You know. Not such a toff.”

  “Good heavens, Lilith,” Walter said with undisguised surprise, his smi
le faltering. “Have my mother and I ever given you the impression we’re snots?”

  He would not describe himself as annoyed, not precisely, but his thoughts of her midriff slipped to the farthest cubbyhole of his mind. After so many weeks in each other’s company, she still obsessed over their difference in station, or should he say, his current status compared to her former status. It was as though she could not see herself as anything but an orphan, never mind she was now Lady Lilith.

  “No, neither of you has given me such an impression. At least, not exactly. It was my experiences that tainted my perceptions. You have both proven yourselves of different quality, and so, I apologize for ever thinking less of you.”

  “I’m relieved we haven’t lived up to your negative expectations.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them.

  There was something so vulnerable about her at times, something he could not put a name or explanation to, but as strong willed and mature as she was, she seemed decidedly vulnerable in her unguarded moments. One day, he would be in a position where he could reach over and take one of her hands in his, be her shield when she felt exposed.

  As though reading his thoughts, she unfolded her hands and began tucking loose strands of hair into the untidy coiffure.

  Almost under her breath, she said, “I do wonder if your mother, or even you, would be so kind to me if I weren’t the sister of your host. If you both saw me in the street, would you be so kind?”

  Eyeing Roddam, who remained across the room busying himself with absolutely nothing, Walter said, “You can answer that question better than I can. How did my mother treat the shopkeepers and villagers today?”

  “Oh, well, she was nothing but amiable. That’s not the same, though.”

  “I quite think it is. Thus, you’ve answered your own concern. Any airs you think we put on are residual of our lifestyle, not from any assumption of being better than anyone else. You know my dreams, Lilith. Are my dreams those of an arrogant man? I do hope I have never given that impression.”