Edward stepped forward, pulling a folded sheet of paper from the inside of his jacket. “I made you a picture of the house, so you’ll remember it.”
Lucas took the paper and tucked it into his jacket. “Thank you, Edward. May I share it with your mother?” Edward nodded and then, to Lucas’s surprise, he launched his four-and-a-half-year-old body into Lucas’s arms.
Looking up at Virginia, Lucas saw her cover her smile with one hand. He wrapped his arms around Edward, returning the embrace, and his throat tightened up. The little boy’s complete trust, his innocent affection, had been given freely and completely. Lucas didn’t feel worthy of it. He cleared his throat and Edward stepped away, smiling.
“Thank you, Edward.” He smiled back. “I will miss you.”
Then he stood and was swept up in the farewells of the adults, and Virginia with him. Somehow, they finally disentangled themselves enough that Lucas could escort Virginia outside into the warm morning sunlight. It felt like summer at last, and all the rain had turned the whole countryside green and vibrant. If they could have more days like this, the fields would turn gold and lush, and he would not need to worry so about his tenants and farms. But if the rains continued and weather didn’t warm sufficiently, the harvest would be late.
It was a situation he would have to look over at the Heatherton estate as well.
Lucas offered his assistance, helping Virginia into the carriage. Her gloved fingers rested trustingly in his for only a moment, but it was enough for his heart to acknowledge the touch with a skittering beat.
As soon as he climbed in behind her, a footman closing the door, they were alone.
No family. No servants. Nothing to call them away.
He sat down beside her and took off his hat, tossing it on the seat across from them. The carriage would grow warm quickly and he preferred to ride in some comfort.
Virginia finished waving from the window, the equipage started forward, and then she sat back and noted his hat. “That must be pleasant,” she said with half a smile. “I rarely envy the fashion of men, but today I do envy you your hat.”
He chuckled and leaned into his corner of the coach, turned toward her. “You could cast off your bonnet nearly as easily.”
She shook her head. “And spend hours shaking dust from my hair? Or straightening pins every time I step out when we change horses? I think not.”
“It isn’t solely my hat you envy, but my hair.” His valet would have choked on his disapproval had he seen Lucas reach up and run his hands through his hair in such a way as to purposefully leave it a mess. But Virginia laughed, which was a rare enough sound that made it worth the ridiculousness of the moment. It set the tone for their time together, too, and Lucas would rather begin with a laugh than stiff politeness.
“I don’t envy it when it looks like a nest made of straw.” She folded her hands primly in her lap and pressed her lips together, obviously trying to regain a more proper manner.
He frowned as severely as he could make himself and put his nose in the air. “Madam, I have been told my hair looks like burnished gold.”
Virginia’s laugh came as a short burst this time. She covered it the sound with one hand. “Oh, dear. Who made that proclamation?”
“A very eager young miss, about eight years ago.” He grinned and folded his arms across his chest. “But as someone with hair of a similar hue, you must’ve heard worse.” Though her hair was brighter than his, more like the reflection of the sun on water. His was dark, burnished gold in need of shining. He’d never considered the beauty of such hair until he met Virginia.
Someday, he might tell her so.
“I certainly have.” She raised a finger to tap against her lips, narrowing her eyes as she thought. “One of the worst was when someone compared it to a crown, only lacking acceptable jewels to adorn it.”
That was the worst? “It sounds rather poetic to me.”
“The man was a fortune hunter,” she added with a shrug. “If seeing me made him think of tiaras and jewels, I had a fair idea of what he was really after.”
“Ah, that does make more sense.” Lucas let his eyes rest on her lovely face, taking in the beauty of her eyes. “And what have you heard about your eyes? Mine are usually compared to a stormy-sea.”
“Emeralds, of course,” she said, getting into the spirit of the game. She raised her chin loftily. “What other shade is there?”
He leaned forward and peered at her, pretending to study her eyes. Even in the darkened carriage, they shone. “I can understand that, for the unimaginative, it is the first thing that comes to mind.”
“And for the imaginative?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“They are the cool green of a forest pool on a summer day, giving and reflecting the life around it.”
Her cheeks went pink and her expression faltered. “That is more imaginative,” she said, false levity in her voice.
He shrugged, maintaining his casual attitude. “You asked.” He leaned back into his corner and lowered his eyes. “What did Charles say about them?” Lucas needed to make certain she knew, that she understood, he was not trying to turn their relationship into more. Not yet. No matter how much he wished it.
Virginia looked down at her gloved hands, adjusting the fingers of the light material. She was quiet long enough he thought he might need to apologize for overstepping. But just before he opened his mouth, she started to speak, her voice soft with memory.
“Charles compared them to any number of things. Summer meadows, I think, was my favorite. Mostly he just told me he loved them.”
“Smart fellow.” Lucas allowed his eyes to drift to the window on her side, looking out over the verdant fields they passed by. “How did you meet him? If you don’t mind my asking.”
It was the right topic for both of them. As she spoke of her first season, beginning slowly at first but then with more feeling, he realized how much she needed to talk of Charles. She apologized often enough for bringing up her late husband, but being without him likely made the memories the sweeter to hold. He listened, only making an occasional remark, as she told him how spoiled she had been before meeting the young baron.
Their love story drew him in, and he saw Virginia as she had seen herself. Young, naive, too proud, until love and tenderness softened the edges of her heart. But she credited motherhood with causing her true change.
“Charles adored the boys. He paid them so much more attention, from the start, than my father gave me. He was besotted with them.” Virginia’s posture had relaxed as she spoke, her hands rested in her lap.
“I can understand that. They are endearing children.” He remembered Edward’s drawing and pulled it from the inside of his coat. “Edward has been giving me artwork nearly every day for the last several weeks.” He unfolded the paper and moved so they could both look at it. “He has an excellent eye for color.”
Virginia held her hand out, taking one corner of the drawing to examine it. It was the house, drawn in red near the shade of the brick. He’d made the sky above it blue with gray clouds. There was green grass all around it, and too few windows. He’d added white, swirling blobs in the grass that must be his depiction of sheep. He’d written his name in the corner, the letters as well-formed as his unlearned hands could make them.
Lucas studied Virginia as she looked at the drawing, real interest in her eyes. They sat close, close enough that he could bend his head and place a kiss on her cheek if he were inclined.
He released his side of the paper and went back to his corner. “If I could frame all of his little masterpieces, I would,” he said brightly, covering his retreat. The scent of oranges followed him.
“We would swiftly run out of wall space,” Virginia said, her smile almost sad. “He used to do drawings for Charles, too. I think you have captured Edward’s heart. I’m not surprised. He’s a loving child and you’ve been so good to him. Thank you for that.”
Lowering his eyes to the floor, Lucas di
dn’t know what to say. Did it bother her, that Edward had so fully attached himself to Lucas?
“I do not mean to take your late husband’s place. Does it trouble you that he—?”
“Not at all, Lucas. I want them to have someone in their life who is good and kind, who teaches them how to grow into good men.” She reached out and laid her hand on his arm, her expression earnest. Though separated from her touch by the layers of her gloves, his jacket, and shirt, Lucas was supremely aware of it, and the gentleness in it.
He resisted the desire to lift her hand, to hold it in his.
Lucas could never have sent her on this journey alone, but he began to question how he would make it through the trip without revealing more than was appropriate of his feelings.
“I will do my best. I have my work cut out for me with Phillip.”
Keep talking about the children. Being a parent. Just keep talking.
“He’s always been a trifle serious. I think he is warming up to you, though. It was clever, giving him responsibility before leaving. I think putting trust in him will allow him to do the same for you.” At last she removed her hand. Virginia began to fold the drawing in her lap.
Lucas kept on in that vein, asking her question after question about her sons. Virginia grew animated as she told him stories of their earlier childhood. Stories about frogs in gardens, sliding down banisters, their first words. She filled the carriage with her memories and Lucas took them all in, watching her all the while.
Her love for her sons knew no bounds. No wonder she had been willing to marry a stranger, on the hope that it would all work for the better. Virginia would do anything for Phillip and Edward.
And for her sake, and theirs, Lucas knew that he would too.
Chapter Eighteen
The sounds in the courtyard woke her. The inn’s bell sounded loudly, signaling the arrival of a mail coach. Virginia laid still, staring up at the ceiling. Her body didn’t ache as much as it usually did after a day of travel. Limiting the first leg of their journey to only a few hours had been wise, and Lucas’s carriage was well sprung. Another two or three hours of the journey awaited them.
What would they talk about today? All the day before, Lucas had been content to let her prattle on about anything and everything. First Charles, then the boys, then her growing up. After changing horses the first time, he asked more about Heatherton Hall and the management of the estate. He asked about its tenants and her neighbors.
He knew nearly everything about her after one carriage ride.
Nearly.
She hadn’t told him how nervous she was to return to her neighborhood. To meet old acquaintances and explain about her married state. Or how much she dreaded the moment when she would visit Charles’s grave. She had not seen it yet. What would it be like to stand before a tombstone bearing his name? Would it make the pain fresh again?
When she’d spoken of Charles the day before, answering Lucas’s questions, she had waited for the knife of loneliness to pierce her. She’d expected to feel her heart crumbling a little more with each mention of his name. But those feelings didn’t come. There was an ache, an empty space, in her heart that Charles had once filled. But it was not as painful as it had been.
Months remained to mourn him. Ought she to hurt more as she had at the start?
Virginia turned her thoughts from there, ignoring the guilt creeping in upon her.
I will make Lucas talk today, she told herself firmly. She would ask the questions, she would learn all about him, come to understand why he felt the need to rescue her, a complete stranger.
Louisa, her lady’s maid, entered the room quietly, holding a tray. Virginia sat up slowly and smiled when they made eye contact.
“Good morning, my lady.” Louisa dipped a curtsy and hurried to put the tray down on a small table. “I thought you might prefer your breakfast here. The private parlor is full up with another party and the public room is frightfully loud.” She opened the thick curtains and then the window.
“Thank you, Louisa. Is his lordship up yet?” Virginia ran a hand down her braid, checking that it all stayed in place. She still felt gritty from travel, but when she arrived at Heatherton Hall she intended to take a bath.
“Yes, my lady. He is taking his breakfast, too.” Louisa brought over Virginia’s tray, then bustled about to lay out what Virginia would need for her travels.
Virginia began nibbling at her ham and eggs, her thoughts on the carriage ride from the day before. “How was your journey yesterday, Louisa?”
“Quite lovely, my lady. But I don’t know that we can hope for the same today. There are clouds in the sky.” She pointed to the window and Virginia looked. She had thought it only to be early, but now she saw the gray skies.
“I had better hurry then, so you and his lordship’s valet can get a good start.” Virginia took a quick swallow of tea and set the tray aside, moving to begin her preparations.
“As you say, my lady.”
Between the two of them, Virginia was ready in under a quarter of an hour. In her more youthful days, Virginia was known to take hours to get ready in the morning. She smiled and shook her head at that thought, then paused.
It was the most rushed toilette she’d had in a long while, yet when she looked in the mirror she felt she would do. The color in her cheeks was heightened, likely due to her rush, and her bonnet hid any deficiencies in her hair. And really, how could one fuss and fret over whether a gray traveling gown looked fashionable enough?
But it was more than that.
She was eager to begin her travels again. Eager to join Lucas in the carriage and begin her line of questioning. And, she told herself firmly, she was impatient to return to her home. Heatherton Hall was waiting, along with a great deal of work. The sooner she arrived, the sooner she could get things settled and return to her children.
“There you are, my lady.” Louisa finished the last button on her glove. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, thank you. Fetch a porter and we can have these things packed.”
“Yes, my lady.” Louisa curtsied and left. Virginia went to the doorway and looked out into the hall. A woman and gentleman down the hall stood together, the woman lifting her chin, and the man tying her bonnet ribbons for her.
That lonely ache made itself felt again. Charles had helped her retie bonnets and adjust gloves. He’d buttoned a fair number of gowns for her, too. The easy intimacy between a husband and wife was something she had taken for granted. She had not even realized it until the night Lucas held her as she cried. A thousand little gestures and touches could take place between a husband a wife, just within the course of a day.
Would she ever have that again?
“Good morning, my lady.”
Virginia pulled her eyes away from the couple down the hall just as the woman began to straighten the man’s cravat.
Lucas stood behind her, in his own doorway, his hands busy with his gloves. “Nearly ready to begin again?” His easy smile helped ease her melancholy thoughts.
“I am, my lord.”
“Excellent. I think we ought to enjoy a short walk, take some exercise before we are confined to the coach again. What do you think?”
Virginia nodded and took his arm when he offered it. She glanced behind her once more, but the other couple had gone.
Lucas led her through the inn, where guests and servants alike buzzed about like bees in a hive. They stepped out into the courtyard, the dull gray of the skies softening the morning light. Virginia managed not to shiver when a crisp breeze snapped along at her heels.
“Will summer never settle in England?” she asked aloud, then bit the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t meant to complain. Bemoaning things neither of them could change, like the weather, would do little more than lead to more whining.
But Lucas’s response was made with a serious expression. “I have been thinking on the strange summer as well. I cannot remember it being this cold. In the summer,
just a few years ago, it would be abominably hot. My brother and I used to swim in the lake at Annesbury Park. I cannot imagine plunging into that water now.”
“Every time Nurse Smythe asks about putting away the boys’ winter clothes, we determine their warm boots and coats might still be needed.” Virginia adjusted her hold on her skirt when they stepped onto a small dirt path leading away from the inn. She wore sensible half-boots and felt grateful for the exercise. Confinement to a coach or carriage had never been something she enjoyed. “How are the tenant farms faring?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the horizon and the tall, green grasses lining the path.
“Not as well as I’d wish. Fields have flooded, been cleared, and flooded again. The lack of sunlight is doing real harm to the plants. I fear the harvest will be late this year. I can only hope it yields well.” When Virginia glanced at him, she saw his head lowered and his eyes upon the ground. The burdens of thoughtful landowners were many indeed.
“If the harvest is late, and poor, what will we do?” she asked.
He raised his eyes, meeting hers, and his expression softened. “We will do our best for the people under our care. Thankfully, my father taught me to always set a portion of our income aside for difficult times. We will need to see what comes of the harvest to truly plan, but we would certainly see to the needs of our tenants before worrying over any profits the land could yield.”
Virginia realized, after he began talking, that she had included herself in his plans. But he had said “we” enough times to prove he didn’t mind.
“I confess, I don’t know what Charles did for the barony. I hope those lands have done well enough it will not be a concern, but will you show me how you determine what to set aside for such situations?”
“I will. And when Phillip grows older, I will teach him as well. We never know what the future will bring.” His walk slowed and his eyes drifted across the land before them. She watched as his expression relaxed and she waited, silently, her hand resting on his arm.
The Earl and His Lady: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 4) Page 16