by Bold, Diana
She bit her lip, still staring at the sketch. “That’s very admirable. I’m glad you want to breathe new life into this place.”
“Thank you.” He sighed and dug into the food she’d made him. The sight thrilled her in some deep way. She liked taking care of him.
“This has been difficult for you,” she said, suddenly sensing that he’d given her a very intimate glimpse of what drove him. “You’ve struggled with coming back here because it’s where your life fell apart.”
He glanced up at her, his blue eyes intense. Then, just as quickly, he looked away. “My mother remarried very soon after my father’s death. Even though I was the earl, Winters controlled my inheritance. For years, he wouldn’t let me do anything, and he drained the estates of everything he could. By the time he... died, the earldom was in ruins, and I was overwhelmed. It took me a long time to rebuild my other estates so that they were profitable again.”
“You’re not much over twenty years old,” she told him softly. “If you’ve done all that already, you’ve accomplished a great deal. I think you’re probably too hard on yourself.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know what it’s like, to have such a heavy burden dropped upon your shoulders at such a young age. Everybody looks to me for answers, and I don’t have any.”
“It must be very difficult.” She gave a cynical laugh. “But I do know a little bit about how it feels to have no one you can turn to, no one to depend upon but yourself.”
He gave her an abashed look. “I didn’t mean to try and make you feel sorry for me.”
She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t. That would be silly, wouldn’t it? For someone like me to feel sorry for an earl?”
He laughed. “What do you mean, someone like you? I think you’re quite wonderful, Serenity.”
Her heart warmed at his words. “You’re not too bad yourself, my lord.”
He grinned and playfully smacked her hand. “Now, none of that. You promised.”
She gave him an answering grin and then cleared their plates. He went to sit on the sofa, and she refilled her wine glass and joined him. For a while, they sat in silence, simply staring into the flames, but then he turned to her, and she had a feeling that very few people had ever seen him looking this shy and embarrassed.
“Serenity, I must ask you something...” He took a deep breath. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
Heat rose in her cheeks as she met his gaze. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”
“How could I ever forget?” He glanced down, shaking his head. “You must think me—”
She pressed her fingertip against his lips, silencing him. “You needn’t apologize or explain. I have a pretty good idea what happened to you because it happened to me as well. I think, perhaps, that we were meant to find each other that day. That we both needed a little comfort?”
His lips were warm and firm, incredibly soft and supple. When she realized how very much she wanted to feel those lips against her own, she hastily snatched her hand away.
He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Perhaps you are right, and if so, I hope you received as much comfort from me that I did from you. Did you know that I thought you were an angel or a ghost? Something my mind had conjured up to help me cope?”
She smiled a bit and lowered her gaze. She liked the thought of that. She liked it very much.
Instead of turning in early, as she’d planned, she sat up with him, talking and laughing until the fire burned low. He detailed his plans for the new house, and how he wanted to build a conservatory and grow exotic plants from around the world.
She mentioned her own love of gardening, and they passed at least an hour talking about that. The conversation flowed so easily between them, no awkwardness, no uncomfortable silences. The experience was entirely new for her, and she sensed it was new for him as well.
As the night wore on, they drifted to deeper topics, and she surprised him by opening up even further about her fears that something truly had happened to her father, her loneliness, and her lack of options. Within the next few days, her life was going to change drastically, in one way or another, and her lack of control over her own circumstances terrified her.
In return, he told her of his stepfather’s abuse, of his younger brother Adrian’s disfigurement in the fire, and how much he still worried about him. He also shared his mother’s unwillingness to believe that her new husband was harming them, and how he and his brothers had made up a masked vigilante named Prometheus to survive it.
At last, he leaned forward and took her hands in his. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed this evening, Serenity. For some reason, I feel like I can trust you, and I think you know enough about me now to know I don’t give my trust easily.”
His large hands were so warm and comforting. She smiled at him tremulously. “I feel the same way.”
He sighed and looked around the little house. “I have a proposition for you, but please feel free to say no if it makes you uncomfortable in any way.”
A sick feeling bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She’d known he was too good to be true. “What kind of proposition?”
He sighed. “Stay on and help me rebuild the estate. I know it’s highly unusual, but I think that together, we can really make this place special again and, of course, I’ll pay you a wage. We’ll plan the gardens, and you can help me decorate, and in the evenings, we can drink wine and talk the night away.”
Her fear that he was going to say something else entirely left in a whoosh that nearly made her dizzy. “Why don’t we continue to let people believe that my father still lives here, that he’s still your gamekeeper? That way, there won’t be any gossip. No one will be surprised when they don’t see him around. Everyone knows he’s a drunk.”
“Yes, I think that’s a wonderful plan.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hands tightly. “Are you ready to have the best summer of your life?”
She nodded, hope blossoming within her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”
Chapter Four
May 1896
“Serenity,” a deep voice murmured, very close to her ear. “Wake up, angel. We’ve arrived.”
She blinked, totally disoriented as she stared at the ceiling of a small compartment. Turning her head, she found Luke gazing down at her from the bench across the aisle. He looked even more exhausted than he had before, if such a thing was possible.
Embarrassed by her previous emotional display, she scrambled to a sitting position, running her hands over her wrinkled skirts. “Are we there?” she asked, her voice scratchy and small from crying.
“Yes, we need to get off the train.” He stood and stretched wearily.
She got to her feet and followed him out of the compartment, out onto the train platform. The first thing she noticed was the scent of the sea, crisp and salty, so different from the stagnant smell of the Thames. Her eyes widened at the sight of the chalky white cliffs in the distance, and Dover Castle rising up behind them.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
He smiled and took her hand, leading her through the crowd. “I haven’t been here for quite some time myself. Those cliffs take my breath away every time I see them.”
She nodded wordlessly, stumbling along beside him, trying to take everything in at once. She’d never thought to get out of London, and no matter what the future held, she’d be a fool not to enjoy this little gift of travel she’d been given, no matter how it had come about.
Luke led her inside the station, speaking to someone about hiring a conveyance to take them to the docks while she pressed her face to the glass, still mesmerized by this place, which was so different from anything she’d known in her limited experience. The varied accents of people from all over the world harmonized beautifully around her.
Before she knew it, they were in a coach on their way to the docks, and the masts of towering ships rose around her like some strange forest. She continued to trail along beside L
uke as they went from ship to ship, questioning whether Winters had booked passage.
As the afternoon turned into evening, Luke grew more irritable and tense with each negative response. At last, he turned to her, his blue eyes shadowed with dark circles, and sighed. “I fear we’re too late. The Anna Katherine set sail for Calais an hour before we arrived. They must have been on it.”
She stared up at him, wishing there was something she could do for him. “What do you want to do next?” she asked simply. Having started this quest with him, she was willing to do whatever it took to see it through.
“There’s not another ship out until morning,” he said, sounding as though he thought all of this was somehow his fault. “By then, they’ll have such a head start on us that we’ll never catch them.” He scrubbed his face with his hands as though fighting to stay awake. “Damnit! I can’t just chase him across Europe indefinitely. I have too many responsibilities back home.”
She said nothing, waiting for him to come to the inevitable conclusion by himself, her heart aching for him.
“I’ll hire someone to track him down,” he said at last. “I need to return to London.”
“I’m sure you’ll find her,” she said soothingly. “And I really don’t think he’ll hurt her. She seems to be the only person in the world he truly cares about.”
He nodded abruptly. “I’ll find an inn for the night. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are, too. Then we’ll book passage back to London in the morning.”
“All right,” she said softly, a myriad of emotions churning within her. Now that their chase had come to such an abrupt halt, the uncertainty of her future loomed before her, impossible to ignore. What would she do once they returned to London? Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t accept his offer of the cottage on his estate.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, cupping her cheek with one warm palm. “Everything will be all right. We’ll get you sorted.”
A tentative smile wobbled on her lips. She had an earl on her side now; he’d made that clear. Perhaps she should swallow her pride and take the help he’d offered.
AN HOUR LATER, THEY were ensconced in a two-bedroom suite at a very nice hotel, waiting for their dinner to be delivered to their small, private dining room. Luke could hardly keep his eyes open, but he’d been busy making arrangements, including sending a servant out for nightclothes and various toiletries, since he’d rushed off with no luggage and Serenity’s small bag had disheartened him. He’d also asked the girl to get them both a change of clothing for tomorrow.
Serenity still looked overwhelmed and out of sorts. She didn’t seem to know whether to fall into his arms or shut him out completely.
He sincerely hoped the odds swung in his favor, though he’d booked this suite to assuage any fears she might have had that he’d expect her to share his bed. God, how he’d love it if she did, but he had no expectations of it. No, all he had were years of dreams and fantasies.
One summer. That’s all he’d had with her, but it had been enough. Those beautiful nights in her arms had made all the women he’d had since seem naught but a pale imitation, reminding him he’d never be that happy again.
“Why don’t you go and take a hot bath?” he coaxed. “I’ll slide the toiletries and a clean nightgown inside the door as soon as they arrive.”
She gave him a scandalized look, raising her eyebrows. “You expect me to have supper with you in my nightgown?”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve seen you in a lot less, but if you want to cling to false modesty, be my guest.”
Embarrassment and anger danced across her expressive features, her face flaming. “I don’t even know you anymore. We’re strangers!”
That hurt, more than it probably should. If she didn’t know him, then there was a good chance that no one did, which made him incredibly lonely. He’d thought she’d lowered her guard a bit on the train, but she’d obviously put it back up, higher than ever.
“I asked for something very modest,” he assured her, not wanting to argue. “But wear whatever you wish. I only wanted you to be comfortable.”
She frowned, then bit her lip. “You’re right. I suppose you and I are beyond this sort of thing, aren’t we?” She rubbed her hand over her face. “A bath would feel lovely. Thank you.”
He nodded abruptly, a bit concerned that she’d given in so easily. As she closed the bathroom door behind her, he sighed and dropped into a chair. Now that he had nothing left to do, nothing more to arrange, and had given up on finding Roger for the time being, the extent of his exhaustion was achingly clear. The last forty-eight hours had passed in a blur, and all he wanted was to slip into a deep sleep.
Unfortunately, the sound of the water turning on in the bathroom made him imagine Serenity removing those hideous black work clothes and slipping into the tub, all soft pale skin and moon-spun hair...
He groaned, aroused by the mere thought. It had been so long...
He hadn’t been with a woman in months, having reached an age where it no longer seemed such a lark to have a fling with someone he just met, and too finicky to have an affair with any of the shallow, self-centered ladies who made up his social circle. All this time, he’d been waiting for her, he realized. His heart had never truly given up on her.
A knock on the door startled him from his reverie, and he opened it to receive the things he’d asked for. He took the bags to the table and dug through them, gathering what Serenity would need. Lavender soap, as he’d asked. He lifted it to his nose, and the scent made him dizzy. Moving to the bathroom, he tapped softly on the door. “Your things are here. May I put them inside?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice muffled.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, determined not to look. He bent forward and placed the items right inside, but his damn eyes did not listen to his brain, and he caught a glimpse of her slender back, her pale hair wet upon her shoulders.
What he wouldn’t give to take the bar of lavender-scented soap and run it over her silky skin...
Swallowing dryly, he closed the door and backed away. Christ! He didn’t know how he was going to get through the rest of the evening without trying to get her in his arms again. He shook his head, knowing how dangerous that could be. She didn’t trust him, was still hurt by what his mother had done all those years ago.
No, he must tread very carefully. He couldn’t take her to his bed, not until he’d reestablished his place in her heart.
He thought of his brothers, and the happiness they’d both managed to find – though Morgan’s had been regrettably short-lived – with their beautiful wives. After he’d lost Serenity, he’d given up on ever having something like that for himself, but now it seemed within his grasp again. He couldn’t ruin it. He had to let Serenity come back to him at her own pace.
The first step was discovering what had put those shadows in her eyes.
Another knock on the door proved to be the hotel staff bringing up the sumptuous dinner he’d ordered. His stomach growled as they placed it on the table, the wonderful scents filling the air. He hadn’t eaten all day, having left before breakfast and too caught up in the chase of Roger to pause for luncheon.
After they left, he took the covers off the food, revealing two perfectly cooked beef steaks, a bowl of steaming garlic mashed potatoes, and another of green beans. A loaf of soft, warm bread, a bottle of wine, and a delectable-looking chocolate cake rounded out the meal.
“It smells delicious,” Serenity murmured from behind him.
He turned, his breath catching in his throat. Her face glowed from a fresh scrubbing, her pale hair hung damp around her shoulders, and the voluminous cotton nightdress of pale pink covered every inch of her from her throat to her toes. She looked so fresh and innocent, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He loved knowing that he was the only one who knew how passionate she really was. Or am I? His smile slipped. Eight years was a very long time.
; “Thank goodness you’re ready,” he said, banishing the thought and moving to slide out her chair. “I was debating eating without you.”
She laughed and took her seat. “That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly of you.”
“Well, we’ll never know if my baser needs would have won out, because here you are, rosy-cheeked and beautiful, smelling of lavender and goodness.”
She rolled her eyes, a smile lingering on her full lips. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d started without me. I know I was in the bath for a really long time.” She blushed and looked down at her plate. “I never get the chance to simply soak like that. Thank you.”
He blinked and sat as well, realizing once again how very different their lives were. He’d never really appreciated how wonderful access to a hot bath whenever he wanted one was.
“Do you remember those wonderful dinners we used to have back in the cottage when it was just you and I and conversation flowed as easily as the wine?” he asked, deciding a change of subject was in order. He wanted desperately to remind her how good things used to be between them and convince her that they could be that way again.
She took a sip of her wine and then met his gaze. “Yes,” she murmured. “But do you have any idea how nervous I was that first night to serve an early dinner from the dredges of my cupboard?”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Did you know I thought you were a fairy, some sort of sprite, when I first glimpsed you through those trees? You were a revelation to me, Serenity. I never knew women like you existed. I’ve missed our conversations most of all.”