by Dayna Quince
“Calm down. I wouldn’t do anything so malicious. I want to talk.”
He stared daggers at her. She didn’t flinch.
He turned away and removed his jacket anyway. It was too restraining. He prowled the room and lit more candles.
“You’ve five minutes, and then I will escort you to your room.”
“Fine, but the escort isn’t necessary.”
He didn’t argue with her. The fewer chances they were seen together, the better.
“Out with it.”
“Thea told me what she told you.”
“And?”
“And I thought we should discuss it.”
Broken. She felt broken for wanting him. Was there any greater insult? It only proved everything he’d said. He was bad for her.
“I don’t believe there is anything more to say. I proved my point.” His eyes wandered over her. He turned away. She looked warm and inviting in the firelight—in any light. When she was present, he wanted to gravitate to her.
“What Thea said… I’ve changed my mind.”
“Have you now?” he tossed over his shoulder. “What does it have to do with me?”
She stood from the chair. Dean cursed the air he breathed and prayed she kept her distance. She circled around the chair and stood by the window. She touched the glass with one finger and then pressed her palm to it.
“I know it’s possible you won’t feel the way I do, maybe ever, but I’m not done experiencing these feelings… I’m not finished with you. I will keep trying because deep down, I feel this is something great. You must feel it, too. How can anything so lovely, so momentous, be completely unrequited? This is my chance for…”
He heard her voice catch. He could feel the tension between them, a current of emotion. It pulled at him, but he resisted. He must resist her. He hung on her words. They struck at him like debris in the torrent of tension she had created. He waited for her to finish. He could feel her words coming like an impending blow.
“…my chance to have great love.”
He closed his eyes. He almost shook with the effort to not react. Love. It was such an awful evil word. It changed people, chewed them up and spit them out. Please, God, don’t let her fall in love with me, he prayed.
“I can’t give up so easily.”
“I will break you. A dalliance with me—which is all it could ever be—will ruin any chance you have at a life you deserve.”
She turned away from the glass. She stepped forward. He kept his back to her. He gripped the edge of his dresser with white knuckles.
“I’m not the girl you think I am. I’m beginning to believe I’m not meant for the placid genteel life I’ve been born to. I want more than that.” Her voice rose. “I know I won’t regret risking it all for love, but I will regret not trying.”
“Is that all you wanted to say?” He turned to face her, arms folded across his chest. She stood there, lips pinched, eyes snapping with fire. “Your time is up.”
She exhaled. It was shivery and light and Dean imagined she would make that same sound if he trailed kisses down her naked spine.
“One more thing.” She moved to the door and put her hand on the knob.
“Yes?”
“When you’re ready to face all that you fight so valiantly to deny the both of us… I’ll be waiting for you.”
He turned his gaze to the fire as the door closed behind her. He waited until the urge to break everything within reach had passed before he moved, and then he promptly began to pack his clothes.
Lucy had only just returned to her room when there was a pounding on her door. She threw her dressing gown over her dress and wiped the tears from her cheeks before opening the door.
“Jonathan? What on earth are you doing banging on my door at this hour?”
“It’s mother. I’ve summoned the doctor.”
Lucy felt her knee’s hit the floor. Jonathan caught her arm and slowed her. He squatted before her and took her face in his hands.
“Lucy. Can you hear me?”
Lucy stared at him, but his voice was far away. Thea’s face appeared beside his. Lucy closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning before her. She opened them. Jonathan lifted her under her arms to her feet.
“I don’t understand,” she said weakly. “She is fine.”
“Her cough has deteriorated. Father had me send for Dr. Mallock.” He escorted her to her bed and she sat.
“That old fool?”
“Dr. Bradley is not in residence,” Jonathan grimaced.
“I want to see her,” Lucy demanded.
“I thought you might. Father said you shouldn’t until we are sure it isn’t catching.”
Lucy grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t let them send me away. If I’m not here and, and… I will never forgive you.”
“You will do as you are told to do for once in your life,” he snapped back at her. “Thea. Stay with her. I will await Dr. Mallock and see that he doesn’t make things worse. I will inform you if anything changes, otherwise, try and get some sleep.
Lucy rolled her eyes. As if that were even remotely possible now. Thea put her arm around her.
“Did he wake you with that unnecessary banging upon my door?”
“He did. I wouldn’t call it unnecessary. You sleep like the dead.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I’m not even in my nightgown.” She stood and removed her robe.
“Why ever not? What were you—” Thea clamped her mouth shut. “I suppose I can hazard a guess.”
“Good. Then nothing need be said further.”
Thea sat back on the bed and opened a book from the pile on the nightstand. Lucy paced the room, chewing at her nails while she waited for Jonathan to return. After enough time had passed for Lucy to lose her sanity, Jonathan knocked on her door. She yanked it open.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Don’t be daft. Can I see her now?”
“She’s sleeping. It’s almost midnight, after all. Dr. Mallock gave her some laudanum.”
Lucy sat on the foot of her bed. “Well, what did he say?”
Jonathan stood before her with his hands on his hips. He looked militant.
“It’s Duncan lung. You both have to leave until she recovers.”
“Why?” Lucy cried. “She needs me to help care for her.”
“You’ve never had Duncan lung and neither has Thea since she didn’t grow up here.”
“Neither have you. I’ve never even heard of Duncan Lung. Why do you get to stay?” Lucy retorted.
“Dr. Wallock says it is catching for women because of their weaker constitutions.”
Both women glared at him.
“I don’t make the rules, but Father insists that you go to Aunt Harriet’s until Mother is deemed recovered.
“How long will that take?”
“Three weeks, approximately.”
Lucy scowled. She would bet her left arm Duncan Lung was as real as unicorns. “Thea will stay with me?”
Jonathan nodded.
“Must we leave tonight?” Aunt Harriet’s was only a four-hour carriage ride, but Lucy didn’t want to make the journey in the middle of the night.
“I’ve yet to ask Winchester to escort you, but you will leave first thing in the morning.”
“Oh?”
“Go to bed before you weaken your constitution any further.” Jonathan decreed.
Thea squeezed her hand as she passed and returned to her room. Lucy undressed slowly, fresh tears of worry falling for her mother. The one silver lining was that Lord Winchester would be there, and that meant more time with him. Aunt Harriet was mostly blind and half deaf. She was as good a chaperone as a blindfolded horse.
Dean had finished packing some time ago and now sat slouched in the chair she’d vacated earlier, an empty glass dangling from his hand.
He was jerked into alertness by the knocking on his door.
“It’s Rigsby,” the voice said from the other side.
<
br /> “If you’ve come to shoot me, I don’t blame you,” Dean muttered. He opened the door.
“Beg pardon?” Jonathan frowned. “Did you say something?”
“Is something amiss?”
Jonathan moved past him into the room. Dean closed the door.
“I’ve come to ask a favor. My mother has Duncan Lung and Lucy and Thea must vacate the house. I need you to escort them to my Aunt Harriet’s.”
“Duncan Lung?” Dean had never heard of it. Frankly, it sounded like malarkey.
“Will you do it? You’d leave with the girls at first light. It’s only four hours by carriage.”
“Of course,” Dean said automatically. How could he refuse? Never mind that he was planning his own escape only moments ago.
“Thank you. It is a weight off my shoulders to know Lucy and Thea will be in your care. Aunt Harriet is rather…eccentric and inattentive. Lucy would try to escape at the first opportunity and return home. Dr. Mallock was adamant they not remain in the house.”
Dean felt uneasy at the prospect of having Lucy placed directly into his hands—unchaperoned, but Rigsby wouldn’t ask it of him if he didn’t trust him. Dean would not betray that trust, no matter how much Lucy tempted him. He would do this for Jonathan.
“I’m honored to help in any way I can. Worry not. I’m certain your mother will recover swiftly, and your sister and Miss Manton will return soon.” Dean wasn’t certain he’d remain after that. He needed to get away and purge these unsettling feelings, but for the time being, he’d view Lucy and Miss Manton as under his protection.
“Dr. Mallock estimates three weeks before they can return.”
Son of a bitch, Dean swore in his head. “I am at your service for however long I’m needed.”
“I am forever in your debt.” Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder. “I won’t keep you from your bed any longer. I’ll have everything ready for tomorrow morning.”
Dean nodded and closed the door behind Jonathan. He picked up his glass from the floor and refilled it. He gulped it down and then poured another. He didn’t know what to expect on the morrow, but he was certain it would be a trial of his restraint.
Chapter 12
Lucy and Thea were already inside the carriage when he hefted himself in. They were huddled together under a blanket, looking fresher than meadow flowers after a spring rain.
“Good morning.” His voice sounded like gravel under a boot. He cleared his throat, but it was bone dry.
“You reek of liquor,” his temptress said.
“Thank you. You smell of…” he leaned forward and sniffed, “orange blossom?”
“Very good, my lord.” She smiled.
He managed to crinkle his eyes in return as a smile, but even that hurt. His whole body felt like a beaten rug.
She turned and whispered something in Miss Manton’s ear. They both giggled. They stopped when he narrowed his eyes at them.
“Are you not scared for your mother?”
Lucy sobered. “Yes and no. Dr. Mallock is a crackpot. His brand of medicine frightens me, but I’m certain my mother will improve.”
“How?” He genuinely wanted to know. He’d been certain as a boy his mother would never leave him, but then she had. Illness didn’t care for the prayers of children.
“I just know. I know it in my heart,” she answered.
He raised his brows and looked away. He hoped she was right. He covered his eyes to block out the light and closed his gritty lids. If God had any mercy left for him, he would sleep the entire trip.
Lucy grinned as she watched him. She thought she heard a faint snore.
“Is he asleep?” Thea whispered in her ear.
“I think so.”
“Why do you suppose he drank so heavily last night?”
“Because he’s going to be alone with us—mainly me for three weeks.”
“And your Aunt Harriet,” Thea reminded her.
“My Aunt Harriet is mostly blind and half deaf. She has very little furniture or rugs, and her furniture is situated in a precise manner so she knows where it is.”
“Oh dear. Who is going to chaperone us?”
“We don’t need a chaperone.”
“Well, I don’t, but you certainly do.”
“And somehow that task has fallen to poor Winchester.”
His snoring grew louder.
“He has the right idea. I didn’t sleep well, did you?” Thea asked.
“Of course not. I snuck into my parent’s room to see my mother.”
“You didn’t! You could get sick!”
“Unlikely.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “I had to see my mother. She was sleeping soundly and her color was good. I predict she will be better much sooner than three weeks.”
“I hope you are right. I don’t think Lord Winchester and I are up to the task of keeping you out of trouble.”
“He’s the only trouble I want to get into, Thea.” Lucy sighed, leaned back against the squabs, and closed her eyes.
Thea yawned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Dean opened his eyes as the carriage made a sharp turn. The crunch of crushed shell under carriage wheels revealed that they had reached their destination. He peered out the window, charmed by the thatched roof cottage that greeted him. Across from him, Lucy and Miss Manton were sleeping soundly. They were also a charming sight. Miss Manton’s glasses were askew. He reached across and gently plucked them from her face, setting them on the seat beside him. When he looked back up, he found Lucy smiling at him.
“Careful, your kindness is showing.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I never said I wasn’t capable of kindness.”
“No, but you’ve tried very hard to mask it from me.”
“We need to set some rules for how we are to comport ourselves around each other.”
“You sound like my governess.”
“An admirable woman, I’m sure.”
“What’s that?” Thea stretched and rubbed her eyes.
Dean held her glasses out for her.
“Oh, thank you.”
He nodded but still kept his gaze on Lucy.
“Good morning, Miss Manton.”
“Good morning, Lord Winchester,” Thea answered. “We are here?”
“Yes.”
A moment later, the carriage rocked to a halt, and Dean kicked down the steps and stepped out. He turned to hand Lucy down, then Miss Manton.”
“It’s lovely!” Miss Manton cheered.
“It is. It’s my favorite of all the properties.”
“Your father owns the land?”
Lucy nodded as she took in the familiar surroundings. Nothing changed here. She used to spend summers here as a child, and they frequently visited when not in London. As her aunt’s vision deteriorated, she requested things be kept exactly as she remembered them. The same flowers replanted every year, the same round shrubs instead of ornamental characters.
“It’s not entailed. He bought it for her, and one day it will be mine.”
They were greeted by the butler.
“Stow, please forgive the intrusion. My mother’s taken sick and we’ve been banished from the house.”
“We are always ready to accommodate you, Lady Lucy. Your aunt will be thrilled to have you.”
“Lord Winchester is an acquaintance of my brother and agreed to be our escort. Will you be staying?” Lucy turned to him.
“Your brother entrusted your welfare to me. I will be staying until I return you to your family.”
Lucy hid her surprise as she faced Stow again. Did that mean he intended to leave afterward?
“I will show you to the parlor.” Stow waved them inside.
“There is only one footman, Gregory, and two maids. As you can see,” Lucy waved to encompass the sparse front hall, “things are kept simple and neat to avoid confusion for my aunt.”
Stow waited by the open door to announce them. “Ma’am, Lady Lucy, Miss Manton, and Lord Winchester
have arrived.”
“Oh?”
A woman with fine wrinkles lacing over her face and white frizzy hair turned at the announcement of visitors with a look of surprise. “How delightful!” She smiled.
Dean was instantly charmed. She looked as sweet as a sugar lump.
“Aunt Harriet,” Lucy came forward and took her hands. “I’ve a letter to read to you from my father.”
“You’ve come to stay for a time?” Aunt Harriet smiled.
Dean was aware that they spoke unusually loud. He remembered Rigsby mentioning something about her being partly deaf.
“Three weeks, approximately.”
“Oh, dear. Will she be all right?”
“I have every faith she will be fine,” Lucy reassured her.
“How are you, Miss Manton? Married yet?” Thea took Lucy’s place in front Aunt Harriet.
“No, Aunt Harriet.”
“The right one will come soon.” She patted Thea’s hand. “It is so good to have you here. Did I hear Stow correctly? There is a gentleman among you?” She looked around the room.
Dean wasn’t sure how much she could see if she could see anything at all. “It is a pleasure, ma’am. I apologize for the sudden intrusion.” He stepped forward and bent over one of her hands.
“Oh, my.” She gasped. “Your voice is so deep and masculine,” she tittered.
Dean smiled. “Thank you.” He could hear Lucy and Miss Manton giggling behind him.
“May I?” She put her hand up near his face.
“She wants to touch your face to feel what you look like,” Lucy informed him over his shoulder. She moved to sit beside her aunt and Thea moved behind the settee to watch. Dean was beginning to feel a little nervous.
“Certainly,” he agreed.
She put her hands to his face delicately and examined his features. She stared vaguely over his shoulder with a growing smile. Dean felt heat crawling up his neck.
“Oh, my. You are a handsome one,” she said as she finished her inspection.
Dean moved back in relief and stood by an upholstered chair.
“Which of you are going to marry him?”
Thea and Lucy both sputtered and blushed. Dean coughed to cover his laughter.