“When are you going?” she asked, tucking her hands behind her back and clenching them together. Is this my fault?
“In three days. Mother is returning to London. I will escort her partway.” Lucas looked down at the carpet beneath their feet, at his dusty Hessians. “I will write and keep you informed of where I am.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then turned away. “I hope you travel safely.”
“Thank you.”
Virginia closed her eyes against the feelings trying to break free of her carefully molded facade. Lucas was not abandoning her. He was seeing to his duties. Nothing more.
But it felt like more. Like he wished to escape, to be free of her. Why would he want such a thing when she had seen so clearly into his heart but yesterday morning? Had she imagined the look in his eyes?
Virginia went to her room and shut the door behind her without looking back. She stood against the door, her mind whirling, trying to remember. He’d looked at her with such an expression, such exposed longing and misery, that she felt certain he had feelings for her which she must not return. In her pride and pain, had she imagined it? Perhaps it was only pity?
She straightened and stormed forward into the room, stripping her gloves off and throwing them at her chair. Pity?
Lucas’s haunted eyes, blue and gray constantly shifting for dominance, came into her mind more clearly. She hadn’t imagined anything.
The walls around her heart gave a shudder.
“No,” she said aloud, firmly.
Perhaps it was best he went away. For both of them.
¤
Edward delivered a stack of drawings to Lucas’s office the morning after their return.
“What have we here?” Lucas asked, coming around his desk where Edward stood.
“I kept thinking about our house,” the boy said, looking up at Lucas with deep brown eyes. “Our old house. I drew some pictures. Nurse said you prob’ly don’t want all of them. But maybe you might like one so you can remember it too?”
Lucas drew the two chairs on that side of the desk together and gestured for Edward to take one of them while he sat in the other. “Show me. Nurse may be wrong and I may lay claim to each and every one.”
Edward raised his dark eyebrows high. He began speaking eagerly. “This one’s first. I drew the whole house. From the front.” He held a drawing in grays and greens out to Lucas, who could very well see the similarity between it and the castle-like Heatherton Hall. “I see. This is very fine. A good likeness.”
“And this is the fountain in the back garden. It’s not as nice a garden as here. There aren’t as many flowers. Mostly hedges.” He held out the drawing for Lucas to inspect the blue shoots of water coming from the top of the fountain.
“You’ve done a credible job here. Do you like the fountain?”
“Yes. Phillip says we used to play in it, but I can’t remember that.” The little boy’s shoulders dropped. “Last time I remember being there, it was too cold to play.”
“And this drawing?” Lucas pointed to the next, though he had a fair idea of what it was. A brown cylindrical object had been drawn in at the top of a tree.
“That’s the crow’s nest. We used to climb up there to play with my papa.” Edward’s eyes lit up as he pointed to it. “There’s a hatch in the bottom you can climb through and then close so your enemies can’t get up. There’s one on top, too, so you can open it and look out. I had to stand on a box to look out, though.” He sighed and went on to the next picture, depicting his nursery, and another, showing the large oven in the kitchens where his favorite biscuits were made.
“Your drawings are very good,” Lucas said when he finished, now holding the sheets, looking through them. “Did you show my brother your pictures?”
“Yes. He liked them, too. Then he showed me his.”
Lucas’s attention focused on that detail. “Did he? He doesn’t show those to just anyone. He’s very private about his drawings. He must like you a great deal.”
Edward nodded and folded his arms across his chest. “He says I can call him Uncle Marcus, if I want.”
Laying the drawings down on his lap, Lucas stared into the boy’s serious expression. “That is a special thing, I think. Do you want to call him Uncle Marcus?”
“Yes. And his wife is Aunt Ellen now. But I like having a Grandmother, too. I have one, but she says children shouldn’t talk to grownups. But Grandmother, the grandmother who’s your mother, she likes my drawings too.” The boy studied Lucas intently. “Phillip even calls her Grandmother. I asked Phillip what we should call you.”
“Did you?” Lucas was all ears now. He told himself he shouldn’t care so much. Especially since he intended to leave. He would be parting from the temptation to love Virginia and parting from the boys. “What did Phillip say?”
“He said we could call you my lord, but he wasn’t sure you’d want to be called Papa. Phillip says you can’t love us the way our papa did before, because we aren’t yours.” Edward leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “Is that true?”
Oh, to be a child, without fear of saying the wrong thing.
“Your father loved you with everything in him,” Lucas said solemnly, taking in Edward’s earnest expression, recognizing in the boy a yearning Lucas had experienced himself. It was the desire to be accepted, to be loved, though the fear was there that it simply could not be. “And he loved you from your very birth. I’ve not known you as long as he did.”
Lucas bent closer, maintaining eye contact. “But I love you very much, Edward. I would do anything for you. To protect you, to care for you, to see you healthy and happy. If you wish to call me Papa, you may.”
It was as if a fire kindled in the boy’s eyes and in an instant he was kneeling in his chair and leaning over to Lucas, wrapping his arms around Lucas’s neck in the fiercest hug the earl had ever received. Lucas pulled the boy into his arms and hugged him back.
“Thank you,” Edward said softly. Then he pushed back and looked into Lucas’s eyes, a triumphant grin on his face. “I can tell Phillip he was wrong.”
“Yes, I suppose you can.” Lucas grinned and set the boy back upon the ground, standing with him.
“Thank you, Papa.” Edward half-bowed and darted to the door, Lucas watching him tear across the carpet and then right past his mother, who stood in the doorway.
His breath hitched. How long had she been standing there? What had she heard? Had he done the right thing?
Virginia barely stepped into the room, her gray skirts floating around her like the clouds at the forefront of a storm. “Marcus and Ellen are leaving,” she said, not coming further into the room. “I thought you would wish to bid them farewell.”
“Oh. Yes. Thank you.” She nodded and made as if to turn away. “Virginia?” he called after her, his traitorous tongue speaking when he ought to do everything in his power to avoid her. “I should have consulted with you before answering Edward. I hope I’ve not offended you.”
Her hands came before her, her fingers laced together. “Lucas, my sons are coming to care for you a great deal. They look up to you, and I am depending upon you to help me raise them to be the best of men. Of course, they can call you papa, or father, or anything they and you agree upon.” Her expression remained neutral, as it had since dinner the day before. “Thank you for being kind to them.”
Then she walked out. He waited a moment before following, giving her the distance from him she seemed to want. The sooner he left, the better.
Chapter Twenty-five
Lucas left, escorting his mother’s carriage on horseback. From the looks his mother had given him, Virginia knew he was riding to avoid conversation with Lady Pamela Calverton as he had done on their return trip from Heatherton Hall.
Phillip held her hand, not something he had done a great deal of late, as his new grandmother and step-father disappeared down the lane. He squeezed her fingers, bringing her attention down to him.
“Do you th
ink he’ll be back before our fortress is built?”
Lucas had kept his word and hired a carpenter from the village to begin construction on the little hideaway for the boys, at the trees by the lake. But the carpenter would likely be done in a matter of days, not the weeks that the earl would be away.
“I doubt he will return that soon,” Virginia answered with what she hoped was a cheerful tone. “But I am certain he will want to see it the moment he returns. He was quite taken with the crow’s nest.”
Phillip nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. Edward had been at the bottom of the steps when the carriage pulled away, then became distracted by the activity of a beetle crawling along on the ground. He spoke a trifle absently from where he was crouched, making his study.
“He really did like it. He took my drawing of the crow’s nest with him. I think he took all my drawings.”
Virginia raised her eyebrows. Lucas had told her he’d been keeping Edward’s artwork. But why take it all on his journey? “He must’ve wished to keep them close,” she said.
“Yes.” Edward stood, having finally lost interest in the beetle. “Can we go feed King Lud a treat?”
The boys had been delighted to see their father’s favorite horse again. How had Lucas known what it would mean to them? How did he always know what they needed?
Dismissing that thought, Virginia smiled at the two little hopeful faces turned up to her. “I suppose you may, but only a vegetable each this time. You’re going to spoil that horse and he won’t be fit company for anyone.”
Phillip grinned and turned to run through the house.
“Walk like gentlemen, if you please,” Virginia called after them. Both boys slowed only a few steps into the entry hall, but not by much. Entering the house, Virginia took one last look down the empty lane before shutting the door behind her.
¤
Three weeks, which felt more like three-hundred years, had gone by. Lucas had finished visiting his properties. It hadn’t taken as long as he’d hoped, due to the very efficient men he had hired to manage the estates in his stead. There wasn’t as much for him to do as he’d hoped. It didn’t help that every place he went, within hours he was longing for Annesbury Park. He missed Virginia’s company at breakfast and in the evenings. They didn’t speak of profound things, but their conversation on the household, the day’s events, and the boys had been something he looked forward to.
The boys. Had the carpenter completed his work? Were they even now up in the trees, spying on the world beneath them? He would wager his finest horse that Edward would have created a number of masterpieces for him in his absence. He would likely need to restock the nursery’s paper supply.
Which was as good a reason as any to return to London. He had sent Edward’s drawings to town with his mother, and the project he’d given her was likely completed. Lucas could pick up paper, Edward’s drawings, and find gifts for the boys. Of course, he didn’t know when he might see the children again. He’d believed a few weeks would be enough to gain mastery over his emotions, but every time he thought he had made progress, the simplest thing would fill his thoughts and heart with Virginia.
That day, before leaving for London, it had been a peacock. His neighbor kept the dreadfully loud creatures, but one had wandered onto the lawn beside Lucas’s carriage. It had fanned its tail and promenaded about, as if to dare Lucas’s staff to remove it. The feathers had glistened in a brief burst of sunlight, blues, browns, greens, creating a beautiful display of color. Lucas thought immediately of Virginia’s beautiful green eyes, a color so rich and dark he understood the comparison to precious stones. But her eyes were more alive than an emerald could be, and never as cold.
He wanted to be by her side to catch a glimpse of those eyes when she laughed.
Lucas shut his heart away again and again, determined to ignore its pining.
Perhaps being in London for a time would distract him sufficiently.
Did they miss him at all? He’d kept his word, sending a letter to Virginia every time he left one property for another. She hadn’t written back. That should indicate fairly well that she did not at all care for his company, as was right. She was a grieving widow. Even society expected her to continue her mourning.
When the carriage rolled into London, his mind was still miles away, along with his heart, at Annesbury Park.
Chapter Twenty-six
For the fifth time that day, Virginia closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.
Her mother had come to visit, arriving on August first. She had been present for a week. Lucas had been gone for four weeks. Counting the days after counting to ten was sometimes necessary as well.
“Really, you ought to change the whole house, especially since he’s gone, for he cannot object.” Lady Jacqueline Crawlton, Dowager Countess of Vinespar, had a decided opinion on everything. But Virginia had never witnessed her mother’s Machiavellian instincts manifest themselves this plainly. “Not a single stick of furniture that she chose ought to remain.”
The she, of course, was Lady Abigail Calvert, Lucas’s first wife.
“I see no reason for that, Mother,” Virginia said, calmly dipping her pen in ink as she wrote an invitation to Christine. Again. She’d begged her cousin to visit as often as possible during her mother’s stay. “I rather like most of the furnishings. I have thought of refreshing the rooms by moving a few things around, but nothing so extraordinary that would require a complete redecoration.”
“I like the rooms, too,” Rebecca Devon said from her place on the settee across the room. Rebecca was Christine’s younger sister and had been given into her Aunt Jacqueline’s care. The hope was that Rebecca would be molded into the young woman her father expected her to be. So far, Virginia doubted her mother was having much of an effect on the girl. “They’re bright and cheerful.”
Virginia could well imagine the frosty glance that comment earned from her mother.
“Rebecca, mind your tongue and your stitch. Your embroidery is atrocious.”
Sighing, Rebecca murmured her “Yes, Aunt” very dutifully.
“And I do not mind if Lord Calvert is reminded of his late wife,” Virginia continued, signing her name with a flourish. “I would not want him to attempt to erase all evidence of Charles.”
“It is surprising he has not. Really, most peculiar of him.” Virginia’s mother crossed the room to the window. “Perhaps the earl is soft-headed. I have heard he is an eccentric sort. Or maybe he truly means to give you the year before he expects you to forget the baron.”
Virginia glanced at Rebecca, wondering what the young woman thought of the decidedly intimate topics under discussion. Her young cousin met her eye and offered a commiserating smile.
“I cannot imagine that to be so, Mother. Lord Calvert is an exceedingly thoughtful man, and his business dealings ought to show his intelligence.” Virginia folded her letter and rang the bell at her desk.
Gresham appeared, instead of the footman she’d expected. The butler was a wonder. He always did his work excessively well, especially given his advanced age.
“Gresham, see to it this message is carried to the Gilberts. Thank you.”
“Yes, my lady.” He took the missive and bowed.
“You ought to change the staff, too,” her mother said before the butler had even left the room. Gresham, bless him, didn’t even react to her words.
“Mother, your suggestions have been noted, thank you.” Virginia came to her feet. “I have invited the Gilberts to dine with us this evening. Since Cousin Christine and I spoke of the possibility yesterday, I am certain they will come. If you will excuse me, I intend to rest.”
Her mother flicked her wrist in dismissal, as though it were her morning room they sat inside and not Virginia’s. Virginia gritted her teeth, curtsied and shared one last look with Rebecca, then hurried out.
Visits from her mother were never easy. Lady Vinespar knew exactly how to deliver barbed compliments, when she was
in a good mood. But she was especially adept at offering advice with a tongue sharp enough to clip a hedge.
Virginia determined to search out the boys. Had it not been raining outside, she would’ve started her search at their completed castle in the trees.
The carpenter Lucas hired had done a masterful work with nothing but boards and a few small embellishments. Using two of the large chestnut trees down by the lake, the carpenter and his young apprentice had created two towers joined together by a small, but sturdy, bridge. Each boy had his own parapet to sit inside and watch the world around them. Their favorite thing to do was run from one side to the other, which would’ve been frightening had not the rails installed by the carpenter been very secure.
Several tenant children had watched the work progress for days, and it had pleased Virginia when her sons invited anyone who wished to “visit the castle.”
Her mother, upon seeing the structure shortly after her arrival, declared it a waste of resources, funds, and time. She also disapproved of the boys mixing with children beneath their station. Of course, Virginia shouldn’t have expected any other reaction.
She walked along the gallery hall, pausing before Lucas and Abigail’s wedding portrait.
Her mother’s words regarding that had been less acidic. “And when will you replace it with a wedding portrait of your own, Virginia?” she’d asked. Virginia had changed the subject.
Standing before it, regarding the woman’s laughing eyes and a younger Lucas’s hopeful smile, Virginia took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry she’s so insulting,” she said, her voice too soft to be overheard. “She has always been thus. Please don’t take it personally.”
Did Abigail know, from where her soul had gone, what went on in Lucas’s life?
“Your things aren’t going anywhere and your portrait will always be right here where it belongs,” Virginia said firmly.
The Earl and His Lady: A Regency Romance (Branches of Love Book 4) Page 22