The Earl and His Lady: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 4)

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The Earl and His Lady: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 4) Page 21

by Sally Britton


  What else had he said that day?

  “I will remain in your heart, and the boys are a part of me and a part of you. They will be here, they will be a comfort to you. Watch them grow and know I will watch them, too.”

  That was a different day, a different conversation.

  Truly, she had been blessed to have time with him. They planned together, spoke of what her life would be when he was gone. Of course, he hadn’t known what his brother would do. He hadn’t known Virginia would have to wed another.

  “What would you think of me, marrying the earl?” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed, his image in her heart. “He’s a good man. He is kind to the boys, very respectful and understanding of me. He asks for little in return. He is even here, helping me—helping Phillip.”

  What would Charles think of Lucas?

  “You can tell a man’s character by how he treats those beneath him in society. Does he hold the lives under his care as cheap? Does he use his influence and means to better his own standing or to lift others? That is how I measure a man.” He’d told her those things when she asked why he was so particular about his friends. That had been years and years past, when they were still courting.

  “Lucas is good, Charles. He is the best of men.” Virginia smiled to herself, a tear slipping from beneath her eyelids.

  The memory of Lucas’s fear when he learned of her visiting the sick, his plea for her to stay away, came to her again. He wanted her safety and health; he could not bear to think on her falling ill.

  Because that’s how he had lost Abigail. Because he would not lose her too.

  “I think he cares for me, Charles. As more than a responsibility.”

  “A man would have to be deaf, blind, and dumb not to love you,” Charles had said, more than once. Was it possible that Lucas could hold her in such regard? He had loved his first wife dearly, had mourned her loss deeply, and still held her memory close. And was it right, to love another as she had loved Charles?

  Did she wish to?

  “I love you, Charles,” she said, the tears silently falling from her eyes. She opened them, looking down at the grave marker again.

  “I love you, Virginia.” She could never tally all the times he had spoken those words to her, and they were a balm to her aching heart even now. She had been loved, treasured, cared for in a way some women would never know.

  And you need to love again.

  Virginia gasped and raised a hand to smother the sound, her eyes darting around to discover the source of those words. It had sounded like— Charles had never said such a thing to her. Even in all their discussions before he became too ill to speak. He’d never—

  Her heart thrummed, as it always had in his presence. A breeze drifted across the grass and around her, skimming against her cheek, bringing with it the scent of summers past, the warmth of the sun, the scent of newly-mowed hay and wildflowers.

  Peace settled upon her, calming her whirling thoughts and weary heart.

  Could it be possible that Charles would speak to her in such a way?

  Virginia breathed deeply, trying to clear her head, to make sense of the moment. Charles was gone. Surely, she'd been imagining the words. Yet why did she feel such peace come over her so suddenly? Peaceful thinking on loving another man, while standing above the grave of her beloved? Could such feelings coexist? Grief and peace?

  Tucking the moment into her heart, determining she would examine it later, Virginia looked to the sky to try and ascertain the hour. It was early yet. She had time to return to Heatherton Hall without drawing notice to her departure from it.

  She started back, casting one last look behind at the graveyard before entering the trees and losing sight of the church. She would be able to come again, she knew, and it would be easier.

  “Virginia.”

  She spun around, her hand going to her heart. Leaning against a tree, his jacket unbuttoned, cravat loosely wrapped around his throat, stood Lucas Calvert. Dark half-circles under his eyes, the shadow of stubble lining his jaw; she’d never seen him so exhausted.

  “Lucas.” She lowered her hand, tangling her fingers in her shawl. “What are you doing here?”

  “My window faces the eastern meadow.” He slowly pushed himself upright, but he did not approach her. “I was waiting for the sun to rise. I saw you leave, all alone, and after last night—” He lowered his eyes to the ground. “I wanted to be sure you were safe. I followed you. But when I realized your destination, I waited here. I had no wish to intrude upon your privacy.”

  Virginia studied him, from the top of his uncovered blond head to the boots on his feet. Obviously, he’d come after her in great haste, his appearance less than appropriate. It reminded her of the night Edward had started coughing, when Phillip had sent Lucas to check on the little boy.

  “Thank you for your concern.” She adjusted her stance, trying to understand the man before her. “You thought I would go to the Johnsons’ home?”

  She saw him swallow, thanks to his poorly tied cravat, before he nodded. He raised his eyes, his expression contrite. “Yes.”

  “I told you I would not,” she reminded him, and though her tone was gentle he winced.

  “Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked about them, taking in the empty field and the gray skies, anything but her. “You are a very determined woman, Virginia. I wasn’t certain you would hold my concern as valid enough to humor me.”

  She ought to be angry with him, that he didn’t hold her word as assurance enough. But instead, the peace from the churchyard lingered about her. This man, an honorable and good soul, genuinely cared for her. Cared enough that the thought of her falling ill, the idea of her succumbing as his first wife had, brought him out of the house to follow her in the early hours of the morning.

  “Why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked.

  His eyes finally met hers again, the gray dominating them in the overcast light. The emotion in those eyes deepened the color in them, drawing her in, speaking to her in a way his words never had. The truth was there, easy enough for her to see, and she could not pretend otherwise.

  But he didn’t say anything.

  Lucas came forward, moving with deliberate slowness, and extended his arm to her. “May I walk back with you?”

  The barriers around Virginia’s heart remained. Still impenetrable, she told herself. But with what Lucas’s eyes revealed, she would have to work all the harder to keep herself well-fortified.

  At least for now.

  She took his arm and they went back the way they had come, Lucas’s hand steadying her when she stepped over logs and around crumbling stone walls.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Lucas didn’t regret going after Virginia, even though she was silent the whole way back to Heatherton Hall. He’d never moved with such speed as he had upon seeing her in that field, moving in such a determined manner. Going after her had been the right thing to do. But he wished he had the strength, the ability, to tell her why it mattered so much that he protect her.

  After their argument, he’d had no peace. If his mind was not going over their discussion in painful detail, it was recounting Abigail’s last days on earth. Pulled one way and another, his heart did not allow him rest.

  He’d been waiting for a new day, ordering his thoughts, trying to find a way to make things right between them. Dawn had come upon him, with his mind hardly better off than when he’d begun. He’d given up on rational thought the moment he saw her leaving the estate.

  No one saw him return Virginia to her room in the family wing. She barely whispered a farewell to him before he sought out his own chamber, the physical distance between them suddenly seeming twice as far as it had before.

  Did she guess his feelings for her?

  He was the worst sort of man to wish she knew, to wish he could tell her.

  Randal found him still pacing. The valet, arriving at the customary time, looked from the rumpled bed sheets to Lucas’s clot
hing and raised an eyebrow. But Randal was too well trained to do more. He simply went about gathering Lucas’s clothing for the journey back to Annesbury Park.

  Virginia would be with him in the carriage for several hours.

  Lucas didn’t know if he could stand it. They would have to pretend nothing had happened, because he certainly couldn’t speak about his actions that morning. His emotions were still too new, too close to the surface of his thoughts. Confined to a coach with Virginia, he may very well say more than he ought.

  Virginia, his extraodrinary wife, remained beyond his reach in more ways than one. There were nearly seven months of mourning left.

  He closed his eyes at the thought, listening to Randal pack his things.

  “Leave out my riding clothes,” he heard himself saying. “I will go ahead to the inn. You will take the carriage with our things, and Lady Calvert’s maid will travel with her. If her ladyship wishes.”

  Randal stilled, but when Lucas turned to see the man’s reaction, his valet nodded.

  “Yes, my lord. I’ll send to the stables for a horse to be readied. Will you go after breakfast?”

  “Send a tray up.” Lucas had no desire to eat alone in the dining room, as he had little doubt Virginia would stay in her room today. “And be quick about it. I want to leave within the hour.” He would then be several hours ahead of his wife’s carriage, and hopefully the ride would allow him to clear his head.

  His commands were followed, and at such a speed that Lucas found himself on the back of King Lud, the horse’s finer qualities of less importance than his speed to carry Lucas away.

  Then he moved the horse along, away from the stables, around the house. He’d left a message for Virginia, explaining that he would ride ahead. The short note was impersonal, direct, without all the details a face-to-face conversation would necessitate.

  Having never taken the coward’s way out before, Lucas did not make the decision lightly. It would be best for them both to be left to their thoughts.

  Virginia mourned her husband deeply. Seeing her venture out in secret to visit Charles Macon’s grave had crushed Lucas’s heart. The sight had reminded him of her grief, of her inability to truly belong to him. She still loved her first husband, as was right and best, and Lucas was a dishonorable cur to even entertain the idea of caring for her in a manner beyond that of a friend.

  And truly, even after her year of mourning was spent, what would he do then?

  He passed through the countryside without much notice of it. The horse was obedient, the turns in the road easy enough to remember, which left him all too much time to think.

  When Virginia’s first husband had been gone a year and a day, when society’s strictest members would not whisper at her casting off her mourning, what did he expect to happen? He had mourned Abigail, in his heart if not in outward appearance, for longer than a year. He couldn’t be sure when he had put those feelings away.

  An arbitrarily appointed amount of time passing would not propel his beautiful countess into his arms, or open her heart to his love for her.

  It could be years before she was ready to accept him as more than her rescuer.

  Perhaps she never would return his feelings.

  His heart cracked, and with it his hope for the future.

  Lucas arrived at the first coaching inn where the horses would be changed. It was the same one he and Virginia had stayed at overnight, then spent the morning walking and gathering wild flowers.

  He dismounted, allowing a boy to run up and take the reins from him. The horse would be good for hours yet, going at the easy pace he had set. But he gave the boy extra coins to rub the animal down and see to its food and water.

  Lucas didn’t enter the inn. He wasn’t hungry. He had no wish to be near people. He checked with the stable, ensuring the horses would be ready when his carriages arrived. After half an hour, he mounted and was on his way again.

  The break from thinking of Virginia helped. He came back to his thoughts with a better mindset. His chest ached, his heart reaching for something it could not obtain.

  I cannot remain near Virginia. Not like this. Sick at heart, without respect for her position as a widow.

  What was the alternative?

  Lucas began to form a plan, and a plausible way to put it in action, and tried to put aside his feelings.

  Virginia and her sons must come first. Their feelings, their trust in him to do the right thing, were of paramount importance. The best way to take care of them and protect them would be to leave. At least for a time, to get his emotions back under control.

  He’d spent years schooling himself for a public life, never giving away his thoughts and feelings, remaining aloof and above personal attachment. He must use those skills in his personal life as well. It was a lonely way to live, but it was better than pursuing a relationship with a woman who mourned another man. Even if that woman was his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  When the carriage came to a stop in front of Annesbury Park, Virginia successfully composed her expression into a pleasant one. Louisa, sitting across from her, began gathering their things together in her basket. Keeping up a cheerful pretense with her maid had been difficult, but Virginia in no way indicated that her husband’s decision to travel ahead of them both days, riding King Lud, was a surprise to her.

  Lucas obviously had no wish to see her. She had thought he understood her visit to Charles’s grave, but that had been the last conversation between them. The look in his eyes, the emotion in their gray depths, had haunted her the whole day long. But at the inn, she’d been informed he arranged a private dining room for her before going himself to bed, exhausted from the day’s ride.

  It was with difficulty that she masked her surprise when it was Lucas who opened the carriage door, still wearing travelling clothes, and extended a hand to help her down.

  Virginia met his gaze, searching for some hint as to his emotions, his thoughts, but there was nothing there. No spark of happy light, no smoky anger, nothing. He looked as impassive and unaffected as she had ever seen him.

  She opened her mouth, not quite knowing how to greet him, but was saved when a small body hurtled into her legs.

  Edward hugged her tightly, his face lifted to look at her and a grin stretching across it.

  “Mama, you’re back!”

  “I am,” she responded, going down to her knees to return his embrace. She held him close and looked up at Lucas again.

  He smiled, but the expression was tight and did not appear in his eyes.

  “Mother,” Phillip said, stepping forward from his place next to Lucas. “I missed you.” Edward stepped back and Phillip took his place. Though his embrace was somewhat less exuberant, it was nevertheless affectionate.

  “I missed you too, darling.” She kissed his forehead as she stood, then held her hands out to each of them. She raised her eyes briefly to Lucas, and seeing him unchanged, decided she must break the silence between them. “How was your ride, my lord?”

  “It was excellent exercise.” His words were even, his tone polite. “And the carriage, my lady?”

  “Satisfactory.” She bit her bottom lip. “Lucas, I—”

  Edward tugged her forward, pointing at one of the footmen carrying her trunk. “Are my shells in there, Mama? Did you ‘member them?”

  Lucas’s smile returned for an instant, but it was there. Very well. She would wait until they were alone to speak to him and try not to worry over it in the meantime.

  “Yes, darling. Let’s go inside. Phillip, I remembered your boat, too.”

  The boys fairly dragged her forward, and Lucas fell in behind them. Her new mother-in-law stood in the doorway, hands folded primly before her.

  “Welcome home, Virginia,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I must say, I have enjoyed the boys’ company excessively. I am afraid I rather spoiled them.”

  An honest smile lifted Virginia’s lips and she laughed. “I am glad to hear it. The best
grandmothers always spoil children, or so I understand.”

  “Thank you for sharing them with me.” Then Lady Pamela Calvert stepped forward and embraced Virginia, the boys’ releasing her to allow her to return the gesture. “I am very glad all of you have joined the family,” she said low enough for Virginia’s ears only.

  A lump formed in Virginia’s throat. Bother. She’d thought she’d finished crying at last.

  “Thank you.”

  “You had better come in. When Lucas arrived and told us you were just behind him, we postponed luncheon. The boys will join us today, of course, and Marcus and Ellen.”

  Virginia had nearly forgotten she had house guests still. She nodded and started for the stairs.

  “You too, Lucas. Tidy up. We will wait for you.”

  Virginia’s heart fluttered when Lucas followed her, stepping up beside her on the stairway. They walked up together, not touching.

  Without a word they attained the landing of the first floor, then the second. Virginia made to go down the hall to their rooms, and Lucas finally spoke.

  “Virginia?”

  She turned hesitantly. He was staring at her, his brows furrowed and his manner serious.

  “Yes, Lucas?”

  “I am needed at the estate in Aylesbury.” The words spilled out quickly, Lucas hardly pausing. “And I thought, since I will be travelling, to extend the journey to the other houses under my care. I will be gone some weeks. You and the boys ought to stay here and enjoy the rest of summer. I won’t go before speaking to someone about their tree fortress. And Marcus said they finally found the passage. It’s in the music room. I’ll make certain you know exactly, so they cannot hide themselves there forever.”

  Virginia stared at him, her heart racing inside her chest as he spoke. He was leaving? And all he was concerned about was a secret passage and a place for the boys to play pirate?

 

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