He’d never seen an image of Gilbert. Ana hadn’t spoken much of him beyond her assertions that she had loved and would love him forever. This face was not the one he’d expected for his enemy. He was almost as young as Ana. With bright blue eyes and ruddy cheeks. There was a lot of hope and light in that stare.
“How did Whittig die?” he asked.
The housekeeper halted, her face pale as she turned back. He met her gaze evenly. It was an impertinent question, but he needed to know. Some part of him had to know.
“It was a hunting accident.” She looked away. “He lingered for nearly a week, with her ladyship fighting to keep him on this earth.”
He shut his eyes. No wonder Ana was so protective of Emily, why she constantly fretted over her condition. Like her husband, Ana’s best friend had been shot. She’d seen life bleed away before, she’d tried her best to keep that life with her…only to fail.
“He was very young,” he said, tilting his head a bit more.
“Aye, very young.” The housekeeper swiped a sudden tear. “Too young.”
A silence filled the hallway and finally Lucas stepped away, unable to look at the portrait anymore. Unable to look at the younger Ana’s hopeful expression when he knew that just a few years later her life would be ripped out from under her.
The housekeeper began to walk again. She kept her eyes forward as she said, “Lady Whittig seems happy now, Mr. Tyler. And that is what we all would wish for her.”
“Happy?” he barked out a laugh. “You thought she looked happy today?”
The woman paused and turned to stare at him. “Sir, she’s only been here three times since he died. And every time, she’s been sick with grief. Today I saw her joy.” Color flooded the housekeeper’s cheeks. “Now I’m just rambling on. Come, I’ll fetch you some tea.”
He held up a hand. “No, thank you.” He could barely speak as he fought a sudden ache in his chest. “I think I’d like to take a walk around the grounds if you don’t mind.”
The woman nodded. “Of course. Don’t hesitate to ask any servant if you require assistance.”
He nodded as he made for the door. The cool air hit him like a wall and he realized how stifled he’d been inside, surrounded by another man’s life.
But Mrs. Gray said Ana was happy, after all this. Happy. He just didn’t see it. There were always walls she erected. He’d thought her emotions were clear on her face the first day he met her, but since then he’d come to realize just how complicated she was. How much she concealed. How much he wanted to know that was buried beneath the surface.
He wanted to know everything. And he wanted her to be what the housekeeper had claimed. He wanted the joy and hope that he’d seen in that portrait.
But he wanted to be the man who put it in her eyes. His feelings had changed somewhere in the weeks they’d worked together. What had at first been mere lust and fascination had altered, shifted to something deeper. Something more.
And yet she was still in love with someone else. Someone he couldn’t compete with and couldn’t even hate now that he’d seen his portrait.
“Damn it.”
He paced along the lawn, moving away from the house toward some hills a few hundred yards away. He just needed to move, to run from the ache that was starting to build inside him. Why was this happening? It made no sense.
He crested the first hill and looked up. What he saw brought him to a shocked halt. Through a little grove of six or seven trees, he saw the outline of a low fence that surrounded a tiny graveyard. And just as he suspected, Ana was there. She was looking down at a headstone that had to mark Gilbert Whittig’s grave.
He found himself moving forward, even though he didn’t want to hear. Didn’t want to see.
“I will never forget,” she said, reaching down to let her fingertips trail along the top of the stone.
Lucas screwed his eyes shut. More of the pain he’d felt the night before, the pain he’d been feeling all day, rushed back. But this time it was even more powerful than before. Those words were the most hateful he’d ever heard. Here, practically on the eve of her wedding day, Ana was…what was she doing? It sounded like pledging her continuing devotion to a dead man. Nausea churned in Lucas’s stomach at the thought.
Ana turned and jumped as she saw him standing not ten feet away.
“Lucas!” she cried. “How long have you been there?”
He was ashamed to have been caught, especially with his emotions so raw and twisted. “Not long. May I escort you back to the house?”
She took a last glance at the headstone, then nodded. As she slipped her arm through his, he, too looked back. Was there any overcoming such a powerful love?
He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was willing to try.
Ana looked at her shaking hands, then back up in her reflection in the mirror. Lord, she was pale. Then the light caught on the band of gold around her finger.
She was married again. A wife again.
As if reading her thoughts, Lucas appeared behind her in the reflection, his gaze focused on hers in the mirror. She stiffened as he reached for her, his warm hands cupping her shoulders before he turned her.
His warmth surrounded her, his masculine scent weakened her and then he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. The touch was soft, gentle, but heat was behind it all. A heat she could not deny anymore…and truth be told, she didn’t want to deny it.
She had said her good-byes to Gilbert. She had accepted the future she’d never considered for herself. And she was willing to be a wife in more than just name to Lucas.
If he wanted that. Despite the flash of desire in his stare as he pulled away, she wasn’t sure what he wanted. He was too difficult to read. Would it always be that way? A wall between them? A knowledge that this marriage wasn’t one either of them had chosen? Would there only be desire, perhaps even respect, but nothing deeper?
And why did it matter? Did she really want more?
“Are you ready to face them?” Lucas asked, offering her an arm.
She laughed. Them was a small collection of friends and family who had gathered below to celebrate this union.
“I’ve certainly gotten my fair share of practice when it comes to my acting abilities on this case,” she said as she took the arm he offered.
His smile faltered as he led her down the stairs into the foyer. “Yes.”
She tilted her head at the sudden shift in his posture, the way the lines of his face drew down. But before she could ask him about any of it, he moved them into the parlor. Suddenly, they were surrounded by friends, being kissed by family. With a warmth building in her, Ana looked at the wide smiles every one of her new in-laws flashed.
She belonged with them now. Unlike the remnants of her own broken family. She searched the room and wasn’t surprised not to see any of her older siblings. It was so late in the Season, they were all back at their country homes. Too busy with their own families to see her married.
With a sigh, she shoved the past aside. Whatever had brought her here, this was where she belonged.
“Congratulations!” Meredith was suddenly at her side and she was wrapped in a bone crunching hug that she returned without hesitation.
When she pulled back, she saw her friend’s eyes misted with tears.
“Don’t forget, Mr. Tyler, that this woman is my best friend,” Meredith continued as she shook Lucas’s hand. Ana was sure she saw him wince in pain for a brief moment before he pulled away.
“I don’t think I could forget, my lady,” he said with a laugh as he subtly shook his fingers and offered them to Tristan. “Lord Carmichael.”
Tristan shook his hand with a solemn smile before he kissed Ana’s cheek. “Should we go to Emily? I can tell by her face that she’s going mad confined to that chair.”
As they moved toward her, Ana looked across the room at Emily, who was seated in the most comfortable chair in the house. Though she was pale and her face occasionally twisted
with pain, she looked so much better. For that, at least, Ana could be grateful.
“Thank you for coming over,” Emily said as they reached her. “I was beginning to fear Lady Greenwich was planning to come by and regale me with more home remedies for my ‘ailment.’”
“That story is working then?” Ana asked.
“Yes, everyone believes I was struck by a fever and am slowly recovering.” Emily batted her eyelashes. “Do I look the part of the demure convalescent?”
Lucas choked out a laugh. “I cannot picture you reclining prettily while you are waited on, no.”
Emily shot him a brief smile, though Ana could see her friend sizing him up. And she felt the same analysis when Emily’s bright blue eyes moved to her.
“Henry!” Lucas called out, waving as his friend was wheeled into the room.
Both Meredith and Emily looked at Ana before each woman craned her neck to see the other man.
Henry’s servant maneuvered him through the crowd toward their small party. Ana couldn’t help but notice the stares of the other guests, but Henry didn’t flinch or even seem to notice their expressions. His gaze was too focused on Lucas.
She looked at her new husband. Though Lucas had a friendly smile, there was something in his eyes that said he was troubled. And something stiff and strangely formal about the way he shook Henry’s hand when his friend reached them. A little hope flared in her chest. Was he beginning to believe her?
She watched as Lucas introduced his friend to their group and also watched the way her friends interacted with the man she suspected of so much evil. Consummate professionals that they were, neither her friends, nor Tristan, betrayed their inner thoughts or suspicions about Henry.
“Lady Allington,” he said, sparing a quick glance for Emily. “I’m glad to see you recovering well.”
Emily arched a brow. “Thank you, Lord Cliffield. I appreciate that.”
His gaze darted away from her and hit on Ana. For a moment, she thought she saw his eyes narrow, but then his expression became kinder. “Congratulations, Anastasia.”
Lucas stiffened at her side and his smile grew tighter as she answered, “Thank you. I’m so glad you could come.”
He nodded. “I do have a bit of business to discuss with Lucas, though. May we talk for a moment in private?”
Lucas hesitated, but then nodded. “Yes, of course.”
With a brief look for her, he excused himself.
Tristan smiled. “Clearly you all need drinks. I shall return.”
Meredith smiled as he made his way into the crowd and Emily laughed. “He has good instincts, I will give him that.”
Ana smiled, too, but the expression was forced. She was too busy thinking about the way Lucas looked when Henry came in. And worrying as she remembered that flash of panic in Henry’s eyes when she questioned him about his position in the War Department. If her fears about Cliffield were correct, Lucas could be in grave danger. Being best friends with a traitor couldn’t be a good position.
“What did you think of Henry?” Ana asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.
“Something seemed off between him and Lucas,” Meredith said as she rose up on her tiptoes to watch the two men leave. “A stiffness. Is that usual?”
Ana shook her head. “No.”
“I spoke to Charlie before Tristan and I left for your wedding.” Meredith folded her arms.
Ana smiled sadly. How she wished he could have been there, but there would be no way to explain his presence when he was not a member of Society’s upper echelon. To keep their relationship a secret, he had stayed away.
“He says he has a stack of paperwork about Henry and his activities to review with you.”
She nodded, her heart skipping more quickly at the news. “Good. I’ll make my way to his office tomorrow and review what he’s found.”
“Will you bring Lucas with you?” Meredith asked. Emily leaned forward to hear her answer.
“No.” Ana sighed as she thought of his reaction to her accusation the last time. “Until I have solid proof, I won’t bring the subject up with him again. I don’t know whether to hope to God I’m right about the man or hope to God I’m wrong. Either way, Lucas will be hurt.”
Emily drew back a little and exchanged a brief, but meaningful look with Meredith. Ana held back a curse.
“You’re worried about Lucas’s feelings?”
Ana folded her arms. “Of course I am, he is my husband.”
Emily snorted. “Not out of choice.”
“Emily!” Meredith interrupted.
But Ana shook her head. “You’re right, Emily. This marriage is not one either of us foresaw actually coming to fruition. But it doesn’t change the fact that it has happened. It also doesn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t willingly harm Lucas for all the secrets of all the villains in England. And if Henry turns out to be as wicked as we suspect, that will break his heart. If he doesn’t—” She cut herself off with a wince.
“If he doesn’t?” Meredith asked, her voice more gentle than Emily’s.
“Then I will have damaged their friendship irrevocably. I saw the hesitation in Lucas’s eyes when Henry approached. He will never forgive himself for that if our accusations are proven unfounded.”
“Hesitation?” Emily repeated. “I never saw such a thing.”
Meredith shook her head. “Nor did I.”
Ana stopped as the full ramifications of her friends’ statements sunk in. Lucas’s emotions were as stoic to them as they always had been, but Ana knew what she’d seen.
Which meant that she knew Lucas. She could see the subtle nuances in his expression that gave away his heart. Like a good wife would.
Meredith touched her arm. “I worry about you in this marriage. I worry about the fears and guilt you discussed with me before.”
Ana bit her lip. “I don’t know what the future will bring for me. But I went to Gilbert’s grave and I…” She hesitated. “I said good-bye to him. I can’t live in the past. Perhaps it’s time to allow the future. And that future is, for better or for worse, with Lucas now.”
For a moment, neither of her friends had readable expressions. But then both of them seemed to relax, as if they had been waiting a long time for that statement. And when Ana thought about it, she realized they probably had.
Lucas had said it to her many times. She lived holding up Gilbert as a shield, using her grief as an excuse to hide. To fear. To keep life and the world at an arm’s distance.
And now she didn’t feel the weight of keeping up that facade. For the first time in a long time, she looked forward to living. And she looked forward to seeing what a marriage with Lucas would bring.
Chapter 20
L ucas opened the door to his bedchamber and motioned for Ana to enter. For a moment, she couldn’t make her legs move. She’d been in his home…no, their home…before, but never upstairs. Never in his private quarters.
She sucked in a breath and forced herself to walk inside. The room wasn’t anything like she’d pictured it, and she had pictured it in detail in her darkest fantasies. Somehow she’d thought it would be mysterious and sinful and everything Lucas embodied.
Instead, it was filled with light from candles and the glowing fire. Friendly. Open. Exactly the kind of room she would have wanted if she had closed her eyes and envisioned a chamber of her own. And then she saw the bed.
Big and soft and just beckoning to be laid in, slept in…a place to make love all afternoon, all night.
She turned her face, the heat of a blush warming her cheeks as Lucas shut the door behind them. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t escape him so easily. Her thoughts reminded her that this home was the first place they’d made love. Angry and passionate love.
Now it would be different. Now she was Lucas’s wife. And she no longer had the guilt of Gilbert’s presence hanging over her, making her curse every touch as much as she welcomed it.
She lifted her gaze to Lucas. What wa
s he thinking? What did he want from this reluctant union?
“There is a sitting room here,” he said, his voice gruff as he motioned to a door beside the bed. “And through that is the other bedchamber, your chamber.”
She nodded, but made no move to go through the door. “Do you want me to sleep there?”
She held her breath as his eyes moved to meet hers. The stare was blatant. There was no misreading it. She would not be sleeping in the other room tonight unless that was her demand.
“No. I want you here. With me,” he admitted. “But I realize you may not desire that. And I would not force you—”
She smiled as she stepped toward him and reached up to cover his lips with two fingers. “Look into my eyes, Lucas. What do I desire?”
His expression shifted, as did his posture. The hard edge in his eyes softened, the stiffness of his shoulders relaxed. Slowly, he darted out his tongue and stroked across her fingers. Immediately, her knees went weak.
He lifted her fingers away from his lips and pressed another kiss against her wrist, up her forearm, to the crease of her elbow. Her sleeve was in the way then, so he put her hand on his shoulder instead and glided an arm around her waist to pull her closer.
She sighed as her breasts brushed his chest. Heat and need burned at her, but he would relieve the desire. And this time there would be no fear of interruption. They had all night and a big, comfortable bed to explore their every wish.
She did want to explore, too. In the past, she’d allowed herself to be swept away. But tonight, she wanted to see Lucas’s body, to take her time and touch him, learn how to bring him pleasure.
Her fingers trembled as she hooked them against his unbuttoned jacket and slowly worked the heavy fabric off his shoulders. It hit the floor with a loud crumple and all the intense body heat that had been caught within the folds of fabric curled out to wrap around her.
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