Lady In Distress (The Langley Sisters Book 3)

by Vella, Wendy

“It’s the truth, Bella. I promise you.”

  Her eyes searched his, hoping to see the lie that was not there.

  “And that is why you stayed with us? Not because you were Will’s friend and not because you loved me?”

  “No, Bella, I already cared for you and soon grew to love you. I would have stayed because both Will and my family were here, but the letter told me of your suffering and spoke of how he, your father, would not always be there for you and that you needed someone to care for you,” he added quickly. “I had no plans to leave. Your father’s note changed nothing, only secured my loyalty to you all.”

  She gulped in air, struggling to hold back the tears he saw in her eyes.

  “You lie!” she whispered furiously. “You cared for me because of my Father? none of what you did was because you felt for me as I did you?”

  “Don’t be foolish. I love you and you bloody well know it! It matters not about the letter; I would have loved you without it.”

  “It matters to me!” she cried, her eyes bright with tears. “It matters to me that you felt obligated to care for me because of my father, when perhaps your life may have gone along another path.”

  “I would have stayed, even if your father had not asked me to.” Luke said again because the words were true. He didn’t add that one look at her that day in the street, when he and Will had first arrived home from India, was all it took to secure his loyalty.

  “Of course,” her voice was shrill. “What else is there for you in this world but to live the life of a servant? Oh, pardon, you are a man of affairs now.”

  “And you’re so high and mighty now that servants are beneath you,” he snapped back, anger making his words rash and hurtful as his hand gripped her shoulders.

  “Don’t you dare say that to me!” She fought against him, but he held her still. “It is undeserved and I would never think worse of someone because of the life they were born into. But you, you came back a wealthy man and chose to drive Will’s carriage. Yes, you are now his man of affairs, but is that what you want? I have heard of your prowess with numbers, heard Will talk of your mind in awe. Will you not become the man you are capable of being?”

  Anger vibrated from them. He pulled her closer until her breasts touched his chest. “You know nothing of me or my life. You, who were raised to privilege, have no idea how hard it is to step away from the shadow of your birth and into a world that is ruled by bigots, who would look down on a man because his father earned his living in a stable. So don’t you dare judge me.”

  She licked her lips, and such was the power she had over him, he felt that one small gesture, through his entire body. Her eyes were wide, but Luke saw no fear; even in anger she had never feared him.

  “I will judge you, just as you continue to judge me. Now let me go.”

  Never. Luke left the word inside his head and pulled her closer. “I have never judged you, only loved you.”

  “Y-yes you have and continue to do so. You think of me as a weak creature, a poor nobleman’s daughter in need of your pity. Well, I have known poverty, Luke Fletcher, and I have known pain. But I am not weak, nor will I ever allow myself to be so again.”

  He watched the tears begin to fall and realized that she thought he pitied her.

  “No—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Luke! You could never see me as an equal, only someone who needs your care.”

  She was hurting and angry and he wanted to comfort her, tell her that he did not pity her. Far from it. He thought her brave to have endured what she had.

  “Bella, please…I do not want us to fight.”

  “Let me go.”

  Her breath brushed his lips. “No,” he rasped closing the last few inches between them and placing his mouth on hers. She tasted like the sweetest nectar; the sound in his throat spoke of his longing for this woman. The first soft, tentative brush of their lips made him shudder. He’d always known it would be like this with her. You didn’t long for someone with every breath you drew, and not know that when and if you ever kissed her, it would be magical. He cupped her cheeks and tilted her head to deepen the contact and she made a small sound that nearly undid him. Luke could feel his head start to swim and his body tense in anticipation of taking more of her. He wanted to touch her, run his hands over the body of the woman who held his heart. Her hands were in his hair, her body arching into his as he took her mouth, ravaged it. There was nothing sweet or innocent about this; she was as desperate as he for their first kiss and God help him, he had to stop or lay her down on the cold grass and not stop until he was buried deep inside her.

  “Sweet Jesus, Bella.” He wrenched his mouth away and rested his forehead on hers. “We have to stop this.”

  She pulled out of his arms and turned away from him. He tried to breathe as she looked out at the forest below, tried to douse the fire burning inside his loins. Her shoulders were rigid, hands clenched at her sides and when she turned back to look at him, her eyes were soft pools of emotion. He looked at her lips, red and swollen from his kiss, and the ache inside him nearly dropped him to his knees. He’d never wanted a woman like he did her.

  “I should not have done that, Isabella. Forgive me. I-I, we…”

  “No!” she stumbled back a step as he spoke. “I-I will never regret that kiss, even if it is the last we share.”

  “It will not be the last.” Luke heard the vow in his words.

  “I am going to London, Luke, and not because you believe I long for a season. I do want one, but I also see that you need to know I have changed, that I am no longer the girl I once was, but a woman with a mind of her own.”

  “I already know that.”

  “No you don’t, not really. If you love me as you say, you will wait for one season and then we will talk, if we both still wish it. Will you do that for me?”

  He didn’t hesitate because he doubted his love for her, but he did hesitate and realized his mistake as she drew in a deep breath, and changed before his eyes. The green depths turned to ice as she wrapped her arms protectively around her waist.

  “Your duty has been discharged. I now have two strong brothers-in-law who will see to my care. Therefore, you are no longer bound by what my father asked of you. I would ask that you take this time to decide if you truly wish to have a life with me, and I shall do the same.”

  “Bella, don’t walk away from me.”

  But she didn’t listen and soon was heading back down the hill away from him, and for the first time in his life he didn’t follow to make sure she was safe traversing the hill. He did walk to the crest to watch her, but did not follow until she had disappeared from his sight. He then followed, but at the bottom he made his way through the forest.

  He would accompany Will to London, and there he would see Bella. He’d see her dressed in all those designs Phoebe was having made up for her, and know other men were seeing her, wanting her as he did. Some would see her in a matrimonial light; Will had provided a dowry to ensure it.

  Kicking a clod of dirt, he sent it sailing through the air.

  She had always been the woman he loved, would always be, but he had to let her have her season if only because she needed to believe in herself. The doubts did not come on his side; he knew he’d love her until he drew his last breath. His doubts were for her. She was young; society would change her, and perhaps another man would turn her head. Was he wrong to doubt her love as she doubted him? Perhaps, but he did all the same. Luke had seen the world and Bella had not; he understood what was out there was very different from the life she had lived in this small part of England.

  Reaching the village, he began to skirt the edges until he reached the small cottage his mother shared with his siblings. He’d been trying to get her to move into a bigger house since he’d returned from India and a few months ago he’d taken the decision out of her hands and purchased a property. It was still in the village and would give his six siblings space so they did not have to squeeze into the same beds at
night, nor would they have to sit on the floor before the fire, all squashed into a tiny room to keep warm.

  Luke understood pride as he had his fair share, but his mother was filled with it; from the soles of her worn shoes to the top of her gray-haired head. She believed that in moving from here she would start the village tongues wagging and soon they’d think Esmay Fletcher had got above herself. Well, that was something she was just going to have to get used to, because he was done fighting her over it; she was going to move and he was going to get her to do it through his siblings.

  “Hello, Mother.” She was, as usual, hanging clothes on the line behind the cottage. Beside her, the chickens scratched in their coop. Her hands were getting tired and crooked from years of mending and cleaning. Her shoulders hunched, and Luke felt a pain in his chest. This woman had loved them all; each and every Fletcher sibling had been made to feel special to her, and loved equally. They may have known poverty, but what they lacked in food and clothing, she made up for in love.

  “Where you have you been, Luke?”

  “To the cemetery.” He took a small, worn shirt from the basket beside her and began to peg it up. She tried to stop him.

  “Tis not your job, son. Tis mine.”

  “Will you stop doing that every time I try to help you?” He said the words gently, but she still looked hurt. “Why is it so hard for you to accept assistance?”

  He saw the lines on her face that had deepened in the last few years after his father’s passing.

  “I can look after myself.” She did the same thing he did when she was emotional; shut it away behind a face that carried no expression.

  “And I have enough money to help you make the life for my family easier, and I’m going to do that, Mother, whether you want me to or not.”

  “I’m still the head of this household, Luke Fletcher. Just because you’ve made some money and risen above us, doesn’t mean I can’t still make the decisions!”

  “Your pride is hurting your children.”

  The sharp breath she drew told Luke he’d touched on something that hurt her. Her children were her life, him included.

  “It’s that Isabella Langley that’s turning you inside out again, Luke, and making you say these things.” His mother’s mouth flattened into a hard line as she went on attack, which was usually her best form of defense.

  “This has nothing to do with Isabella Langley and you know it. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know what I say is right.”

  “She’s not from our class. She’s a lord’s daughter and your pa was a stable-hand. Nothing good can ever come of what you feel for her.”

  “I happen to agree with you, Mother, but as I love her and she loves me, you’ll have to get used to the idea.” Although after the last conversation he’d had with Bella, Luke wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  “Love means nothing in her world,” his mother said.

  “However, it does in mine,” Luke added softly. “And as I have no further wish to argue with you, I want you to get your coat and bonnet, because I’m taking us all out for a walk.”

  “Where?” She looked suspicious as he took her arm and led her to the back door.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Urging her inside, he found his siblings sitting on the floor looking up at Rosie, who in turn was reading from a tattered old book he’d given her upon his return from India.

  “Right, you lot. Get your outdoor clothes on. We’re going for a walk, and if you behave I’ll buy something from the baker’s for you on our return.”

  There was a general shriek of excitement and then everyone was on the move.

  “Have you and Ma been having words again?”

  Rosie had stayed while the others scrambled about the place, gathering their things. At fifteen, she was tall and thin, still in the early stages of becoming a young lady. He’d been there when she was born, as she was eleven years younger, and remembered holding her in his arms and thinking that she was the most precious bundle of life he had ever seen.

  “We had a discussion, Rosie, not an argument.”

  She tilted her head to one side as she looked up at him.

  “You’re so different now, since you came back from India. You speak like them, you read and write, but mostly you carry yourself differently.”

  “Them being?”

  “Gentry. You’re an equal to them now, and I’m not talking about birthrights and such, I’m talking about the man you are.” Her sharp little face studied him with an intensity he recognized in himself. “You hold yourself upright; you don’t take orders, but give them.”

  “Ah, Rosie, if only it were that simple,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

  “Lord Ryder respects you, Will; he asks you questions that you answer easily. I saw it that day when he came to visit Ma. He talked to you like an equal, not a servant.”

  “Is there a point to this conversation?” Luke ran a hand over her head, like he did with all his siblings when they were near.

  “I want you to keep changing your stars, Luke.

  He heard the desperation on her whispered words. Nudging her chin up with his hand, he looked into the eyes that were like his own.

  “Explain that to me?

  “If you change your stars, then I can change mine.”

  “And you want that?”

  “More than anything.”

  Luke hadn’t thought about anything other than putting his family into a house that gave them more rooms, and offering them the comfort of food and money. He’d not thought about his siblings wanting anything else from life, but perhaps he was wrong.

  “You can’t be a noblewoman, Rosie, and attend balls and such.”

  “I don’t want that.” Her nose wrinkled. “I could think of nothing I would like less than wearing all those silly clothes and doing nothing but walk about the place hoping someone would see me.”

  Luke laughed. “What do you want to do then?”

  “I want to paint.” Her eyes sparked with excitement as she spoke.

  “You can paint here; I can get you what you need.”

  She shook her head. “I know that, but I want to see the best art in the world. I want to go to Paris and Italy.”

  He was literally stunned speechless. Inside his little sister’s head, these dreams had been forming and he never knew. Shame on him for thinking he was the only one who thought about being something other than what he’d been raised to be.

  “You never told me any of this before.”

  She gave him a small smile. “I’m telling you now.”

  “And how do you know about these artists?”

  “I go with Ma to clean Squire Patrick’s house sometimes, and he saw me looking at the pictures and showed me a book he has. He then let me draw a picture with his paints. Ever since, I go there once a week and he teaches me and I love it Luke.”

  He took another look at his sister, really looked, and saw the determination in her eyes.

  “And Mother has no idea?” he guessed.

  “No! She would be horrified if she found out. She thinks dreams are for fools and that you should live the life you were born into, but I don’t.” She shot him a look. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

  “If you clean my boots, I may not.” Luke laughed as she punched him in the arm.

  “Well, then, Miss Rosie, I shall have to think about our stars, yours and mine,” he said, hugging her close.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise,” he vowed.

  They were ready a few minutes later. Graham, the youngest Fletcher, sat on Luke’s shoulders, with Simon holding his hand, while the others ran in front of them, down through the village. The air was brisk, but the walking soon warmed them up. His mother walked at his side, back straight, smile fixed. She sensed something was going happen that she didn’t like, and she was preparing for battle.

  “Graham, do not pull my hair out at the roots, if you please.” H
is five year old brother chuckled but released his hair.

  “Where are we going, Luke?”

  “You’ll find out when we get there, Ally.”

  They walked to the sound of chatter, as his siblings discussed, argued, sang and were in general high spirits. At the end of the town, they turned left and walked up a long curving driveway, which had overgrown trees on both sides.

  “Why are we going to Mr. and Mrs Tumbridge’s old house? They’ve been dead ages now,” Rosie questioned him.

  “Because we are,” Luke responded.

  They stopped at the top and there sat the house. Two stories high, it was wooden with lots of windows and space. Around it sat a few acres, and enough room for his siblings to play, or have a horse or pets if they wished it. Lifting Graham off his shoulders he lowered him to the ground before taking a key out of his pocket.

  “Anyone want to take a look inside?” They all said yes, so he took his mother’s hand in his, and led them to the front door, which he opened and in they all went.

  “No, Luke.”

  “Yes, Luke.” She tried to pull away, but he simply laced her fingers between his and kept moving, towing her along with him.

  The house wasn’t grand, but it was comfortable. There was a large front room with a fireplace and he’d had the entire house furnished with what he thought his family would need.

  “Why are we here, Luke?” Tommy and the others had followed him and his mother into the parlor.

  “I’ll tell you soon, but first I want to talk with Mother alone. You can take the others through the rooms, but I don’t want too much noise, and no mess.”

  They all looked from him to their mother and back to him, before they nodded and filed out of the room.

  He sat his mother in one of the comfortable chairs before he spoke.

  “I bought this house three months ago. I’ve had it furnished for you and the children.”

  “I can’t…” Her words faltered as she looked around the room and Luke saw something like excitement flicker in the brown depths.

  “You know that Mr. and Mrs. Elders never had children, and they are wanting to move from that cold little house they have, due to Mr. Elders chest suffering during the winter months.”