by Lauren Smith
He held onto her hand longer than would have been seemly in front of others, but seemed far too short a time for this moment.
“Shall we go,” he said huskily.
She nodded and followed him out. Two horses, saddled and ready, stood patiently waiting in the capable stableboy’s hands.
Once mounted, she led the way, wondering what else the day could possibly bring.
Chapter 8
A week later…
Henry watched with amusement as she stopped and sketched the semi-ruins reputed to have a ghost living in them. With an intensity which he had become accustomed to with her drawing, her pencil flew across the pages. Though he could not see how, she always came up with the most amazing pictures.
She glanced up at him, not missing a line from what he could tell, and grinned up at him from beneath the brim of her peach hat.
He roamed the area, leaving her to her sketches. Sometimes, she would draw a special plant he asked of her. Things had moved slow on the Lord Warwick front as things were put into place, but between Lady Harrington and him? Things had heated up and quickly. Every quirk he learned endeared her more, every time they spoke of estates and plants, she listened intently. She had even taken the time to learn some basics from Jane, and he had borrowed some books from Lady Daphne after the meeting and started reading them last night.
He turned when he heard the small sigh she did upon completing her drawings. She blew across it, the pad even with her mouth. After scrutinizing it, she brought it over to him.
“The lines of these old castles really are amazing. The skill is exquisite. See those gothic arches? Those were added in the mid-fifteen hundreds. The owner’s wife travelled to France, saw the churches, and demanded they be added.”
“Shall we explore?”
Her dimpled grin gave him his answer before she verbalized the, “Yes.”
She took his hand, and he willingly followed his guide. He had learned a lot of the history of the area as well as architecture while studying. Even saw some gorgeous examples during his time in France. Somehow, though, hearing it all from her made it stick so much better than university had and caused a new, albeit delayed, appreciation for what he had seen before.
Even as he thought how much he enjoyed her time and company, a shadow kept pace in the back of his mind. At odd moments, he would get a sense of being watched. The back of his neck would prickle. And sometimes, when he turned his head, he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye.
With no desire to alarm Lady Harrington unnecessarily, he had not mentioned it. Could Lord Warwick be spying on them? If so, to what purpose? Since the meeting with her brother and his father and the others, he had become jumpy. However, it seemed to him that Lord Warwick would be best served to focus elsewhere than Lady Harrington. Like shipping venture to recoup his fortune.
However, Lord Warwick trying to marry money instead matched his laziness and the general attitude of Polite Society toward acceptable ways of a nobleman to infuse money into the estates. Henry swallowed back a sigh as he knew that there was a power exchange both ways.
When he heard a happy screech, he turned his attention back to Lady Harrington and her happiness at a nook she had discovered.
“My lord! You must come see this. I have been here a few times, and never have I seen this. It seems to be a relic, hidden away. Look!”
He dutifully checked what she held out of courtesy, then stepped closer. It appeared to be a cistern of some sort. Dull, black spots in between areas of brassy dull shine revealed a design in relief. He frowned, recognizing it. “I think I saw that at Lady Daphne’s yesterday. Less dirty, of course, but…”
He gently took it from her hands, turning it around. “Yes, see there, my lady? It is a proper vase from the fourteenth century.”
She gave him the side eye, and for good reason. Historical artifacts were not his specialty. “You sound quite sure of yourself, my lord,” she said, the skepticism evident in her voice, though he thought she tried to hide it.
“As sure as I can be with information coming from Lady Daphne herself,” he replied with an eyebrow raised. “Here. Let us open it up properly.” He gave the twist to the hidden top which had a small opening for water in it.
“Oh,” she breathed, half delight, half confusion. “You knew how to do that. I have to believe you are correct, sir. But then, if it is from Lady Daphne’s Salon, what is it doing here?”
He pulled a piece of scrunched up paper out. He then unrolled it, trying to flatten it as much as possible and read the note within. His throat would not work for a moment.
“What does it say,” she asked anxiously.
“Says to relinquish you to him,” he replied.
“What?” she squeaked. “I am not a war chip to be fought over.”
“No, you are not,” he agreed quietly.
“How dare he!” she exclaimed again, pacing in front of him like a caged tiger at the fair.
“He went as far as to steal an item from Lady Daphne. I venture to say he would dare anything at this point.
She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “There is more on that note.” She did not question it. He could not prevaricate with her over it.
“Yes, there is. He says if we do not cooperate, he will kill all of the ladies in the salon, starting with his sister.”
“Well then!” she said harshly. “We can take it to a magistrate. They can have him arrested before he does any such thing.” Though her words were strong, her face had gone pale and her voice splintered.
“There is no signature. We only know it is him because of his intent to marry you, as well as the clue of where it came from. Let us return it to Lady Daphne and make plans as to how to provide better protection.”
She nodded her agreement and headed down the hallway much less excited than she had traversed it just a few minutes before. That loss of joy angered him, and Lord Warwick would pay for it, dearly.
Once they made it outside, he took a liberty and drew her into his arms. She shuddered against him then started crying into his vest. His throat worked as swallowed, trying not to cry with her. Though not sad himself, it broke his heart to see her so upset and fearful.
He held her close, murmuring small words of encouragement to her.
“The cad has threatened people because I would not bow down to his wishes,” she said through her crying. “What kind of man does that?” she demanded.
“A cad, as you said. An unspeakable, dishonorable cad.”
“I do not want anyone hurt for my happiness. I could not live with someone being killed. But I cannot be married to such a beast. What are we going to do?”
He squeezed her tightly to him, uncaring about proper etiquette as fear hit him. What could they do? He had a half formed plan to ask The Dark Duke for help in protection, but they could not do it for the rest of their lives. And how many people did Lord Warwick mean to kill?
A half formed idea began to coalesce in his head, but he had to think about the details. And before he said anything to Lady Harrington, he would definitely bring in reinforcements.
When he leaned back slightly, he looked down on the courageous woman in his arms. Her wet eyelashes framed her eyes, and he stared into them, wanting to take away the sadness, the fear.
“We will find a way. I promise you, my lady.”
Her expressive eyes softened as she nodded, and he gave in to the desire to kiss her. Watching her every second, he kept his eyes opened right up until their lips met. Emotion flooded him. In only a week, she had come to mean so much to him. He refused to lose her now.
Chapter 9
Colleen’s heart beat faster as it occurred to her that Lord Strathford actually intended to kiss her. Despite her upset, she wanted it very much. When his lips met hers, her whole being sighed into him, enjoying it very much. He gently pushed against her lips more, his tongue running across her lower lip.
She gasped, and he took that moment to put his tongue in
her mouth. She stiffened for a second, then relaxed into him as pleasure swamped over her. Pleasure and comfort. The earlier fear and anger dimmed, and she simply enjoyed being held and touched.
When he leaned away from her, she opened her eyes, trying to tamp down the emotions swamping her at his touch. “Lady Harrington,” he began, but she interrupted.
“Colleen,” she whispered. “After all, my lord, you have kissed me quite intimately.”
“Then you must call me Henry,” he said, matching her volume. “After all, my lady, you kissed me back quite intimately.”
His playful grin had a blush crossing her face. “Was I not supposed to?” she asked, seriously worried she had done something wrong.
“I—some might say that, but I am rather glad you did, my lady, for my heart lay in that kiss.”
Joy lifted her. “As was mine,” she admitted.
“Well then, let us go find The Dark Duke and enlist his aid. Then we can track down the vase and talk to Lady Daphne.”
She nodded her head quite vigorously unable to find the words she needed. Tears threatened to spill again. In only a week, Lord Strathford had come to mean much to her. Every moment spent with him brought her peace and contentment, with flashes of physical excitement. Like now.
She shuddered again as she tried to control her breathing. Her body’s response confused her on one level. Even though Aunt Julie had been surprisingly frank when Colleen had asked her about the tingles and flushes she had around him, she could not wrap her mind around how fast it happened.
“Lady Harrington? You are being very quiet. Did I overstep?” His anxious tones brought her back to him.
She canted her head, trying to really study him. “Under the circumstances, I believe I really must insist you call me Colleen.”
His eyes widened, and relief swamped his features. He brought her close and gave her a resounding kiss on the lips. “Colleen,” he said, as if tasting the word. “Colleen,” he whispered.
Every time he said her name, her stomach tightened and her breathing sped up. “Yes?” she asked, wanting to kiss him again.
“Call me Henry, my love.” His lips took hers again, but this time, it was a promise.
How she knew, she could not say, but she grasped onto it, her heart singing. When she could breathe again, she whispered his name. “Henry.” And emboldened by his swift intake of breath, she kissed him this time.
He groaned, his hands splaying on her back, as if to touch more of her. Her skin, super sensitized, complained about the fabric rubbing against her. She wanted everything off. The thought scared her enough she pulled back.
He planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “We will get through this together. I am not about to give you up.”
“But what about the others?”
“I am sure they would agree that you putting yourself into his hands is a bad idea. We shall go see the Duke of Canterbury immediately and enlist his aid.”
Gathering her things together, they left, hand in hand, and she found comfort in the moment and tried not to worry about the future. However, it came crashing back when she arrived home to find her aunt in a tizzy over Jane.
“My dear Colleen!” she exclaimed. Tears welled in her eyes. “I am so relieved you are back. The doctor is on the way, but Jane. She—” Her aunt’s mouth closed, and her throat worked convulsively. Colleen could only stand and stare.
“What happened, Miss Chapman, and how can we help?” Henry asked by her side, squeezing her hand for a moment.
“She—I will tell you after the doctor has seen her,” Aunt Julie said, obviously changing her answer mid speech.
Colleen allowed it only because of the obvious worry. Colleen nodded her agreement, then knelt on the floor by Jane who lay prostrate on the couch. Aunt Julie was as pale as Jane, though, so as she took Jane’s hand in hers, she told her aunt, “Go sit on the settee over there. I will have Sue bring you some tea and biscuits.”
Aunt Julie wrung a handkerchief so tightly, her knuckles turned white. Henry met Colleen’s gaze, and she said, “Henry, please?”
Henry quickly took her meaning and took Aunt Julie by the elbow and led her to the settee and helped her gently down. Colleen rang the little bell on the little table by Jane’s head on the arm of the couch. She pushed Jane’s hair back. “Dear, sweet Jane, you must stay with us. Doctor will be here soon.”
Sue came in, a suspicion shine on her cheeks as if they were wet. Colleen hesitated, wanting to ask her what happened to her, but before she could form the words, Sue straightened her spine and said, “Yes, my lady?”
“Can you get Aunt Julie some of your jasmine tea and a plate of bread? I am worried about her color.”
Sue’s head swiftly turned to where Aunt Julie sat, and her face softened. “Of course, my lady.” Sue went over to Aunt Julie, snagging a small afghan off the chest near the bookshelf, and tucked it around her “There now, miss. I will be right back. You sit here and wait for the doctor to arrive,” Sue tutted around her.
Colleen suddenly had her world turned on its side. Sue loved her aunt and Jane as more than servant to master. Her loyalty, never doubted, was obviously love based. And as for Aunt Julie? Her affection for Jane was…. Her eyes widened as she looked down at Jane, who watched her closely.
Something must have shown on Colleen’s face for Jane gave her a small nod and said, “Yes, Colleen, we love each other.”
“But… Like…” She stopped speaking, not knowing Henry well enough to speak the words which occurred to her. If she were correct… She frowned, trying to ascertain the socially acceptable part to say out loud which would not hold a dire consequence for her Aunt Julie or her…companion.
Jane squeezed her hand. “It is a complicated situation. Social morals being what they are… We are lucky. It is considered necessary for a woman not to live alone or face the wrath of polite society. A man…has not the same kind of viable options without strict censure.”
Colleen had leaned in close as Jane’s voice barely rose above a whisper. “Shhh. It is okay, Jane. I will keep your secrets.”
And she would, but she had to reassess things. Aunt Julie’s love for Jane was obviously making her unable to cope. Did Colleen really want that? Want to love like that? To constantly fear the loss of another and have her own joy dependent on them? Was it worth it? What would happen to Aunt Julie if she lost Jane?
The pain of her parents’ death hit her anew. How could she risk going through that again? Her heart pushed against her rib cages like a river trying to flood its banks, the pressure increasing as each second passed. What was she thinking, falling in love with Henry? What if he left her because of Lord Warwick’s threats? Yes, he had said he would take care of it, but Lord Warwick was cruel and unscrupulous. What if he couldn’t accept her aunt’s unusual relationship?
What if he died?
The banks in her heart broke, and the flood waters came out in a burst of words. “Henry, you must go now. Go enlist the help for Lady Daphne and the others as we spoke of. Quickly, before someone is hurt.”
She caught Jane’s startled look, then the quick side glance to Aunt Julie. She narrowed her eyes. What if someone had already been hurt.
Henry, calm as always, came to her and touched her shoulder. She did not want to analyze how his touch calmed her, how it brought peace to the tumultuous feelings rioting through her. She could not for how would she ever let him go then? No, she had to find a way to let him go, never be with anyone, never risk the pain of losing someone.
Go back to her plan of growing old alone with her studies. She kept her gaze down and away from his. If she gave in now, she might not be able to do as must needs be done.
“Colleen, I do not know what is going through your head, and now is not the time to discuss, I know. I fear that leaving will only make matters worse, but you are correct in that I should go.” His grip tightened on her shoulder, and it took everything in her not to place a hand on his. It already hurt kn
owing she was giving up the dream of being with him. But she just could not hurt like this. “Would you like me to tell your brother that something has happened to Jane? I planned to see him to find out how best to reach the Duke of Canterbury.”
His caring tone nearly caused her to lose her resolve, but she had to stay steady. Not just for herself. Her Aunt Julie needed her to care for Jane until whatever this problem was could be taken care of, and Lord Warwick might leave everyone alone, even if she refused to marry him. At least, she hoped it would be enough that she chose not to be with another.
Fear escalated, but she stayed calm. “Yes, please, tell Richard of our need. That would be of great help,” she said formally.
He squatted next to her and spoke in low tones for her ears only. “I do not know what happened in that head of yours since we came back, but I will find out, and we will discuss it.” His determination rang through loud and clear. It both thrilled her and caused her consternation.
That he did not give up so easily had happiness dancing along those flooded banks as if to say, see, the water will go back. Which made him all the more dangerous to her well being. She barely recovered from losing her parents. How much more if she fell in love with him, joined her life to his? Or worse, if he was hurt because of her? How could she live with the pain then? No, it was better this way.
But she could not stop her body’s response, the heat which flowed into her face, along her limbs at having his voice in her ear, at seeing the proof that he also had emotions invested in their relationship. “I understand,” she managed to get out. Then blushed deeply when he kissed her cheek before leaving. Pain seared her chest at the thought that it might be the last time he did that.
How could she give him up?
Chapter 10
Henry had left Colleen’s house, but only because her safety and that of the others was paramount. However, it went against his instincts. Everything in him told him she had withdrawn somehow. He could not fathom the cause, but something definitely changed.