Just give up. You’ll never understand him. Therefore, you’ll never know how to properly heal him.
She wanted to listen to that voice and felt her heart leaning toward this new conviction but stopped herself before it completely could. She pulled on her memories from the house Mr. Goody had kept them in. Often, Kent’s actions and words never aligned. Or at least, they hadn’t with her.
Though he’d repeatedly spoken words to push her away, he’d never actually done so with his hands. Instead, his hands had held her close, cradling her like precious jewels. She wondered if he were doing something similar to that. He was buying her a carriage. With her very own horses.
Yet he wouldn’t look at her. And had yet to touch her. Did she have to wait for him to move first? Or could she…?
“Whatever is going on in that head of yours,” Kent said “don’t do it.”
Lucy leaned back in her seat. “How do you know that I was thinking to do anything?”
His gaze finally landed on her. “I could see it in the way you were positioned. You were going to do or say something. I would rather you didn’t.”
He saw? It meant he’d been looking at her after all. So why pretend that he wasn’t? Was this part of her punishment?
She fisted her hands into her skirts. “You’re right.” She looked away. “It’s better that I not act out the any of the thoughts that went through my head.” She’d purposefully dropped her voice at the end, making it rougher. Enticing, she hoped.
The silence that followed lasted barely lasted five seconds.
“What were you thinking to do?” Kent asked.
Lucy shook her head and then tucked it in a hope to appear shy, but then she colored and realized she was not pretending at all. “I…couldn’t say it aloud.”
“Was it…?” He cleared his throat. “Something I would have liked?” His breathing had already grown heavy.
“Perhaps.” She lifted her gaze as was awed by the heat that now rested in his eyes. “But now we’ll never know.”
He was so deeply in need, and not just for the acts they’d committed in his brother’s sitting room, but for attention. Her attention, even as he pushed her away.
“Come.” he said.
She went and took her place on his lap. Then she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. His arms went around her. It was a simple embrace, yet it cured all the doubts that had been pouring into her mind.
He pulled away enough to meet her eyes. “What was that?”
Clearly, he’d thought her intentions would be more arousing, and they had been until she realized what she truly needed from him and what he needed from her. “It was a hug.” she said in explanation. She kept her hands on his shoulders when what she really wanted to do was run them through his hair. But he was so stiff now. She didn’t think he’d allow her to touch him further. “Surely, you’ve received hugs before.” She’d meant the words to be teasing.
“From Colby, my brother, but no one else.” he said evenly.
“Your mother never…” Lucy stopped speaking, because her voice had begun to waver. She forbid herself to cry and yet her eyes were filling.
Kent tightened his arms around her. “I need neither your sympathy nor your hugs.” Yet again, his words went against his actions. His arms were a band around her.
“What if I need hugs?” she asked. “Would you not give them to me?”
“Why should I?” he asked.
She tried to keep her voice light but failed to hide all her anger. “You already said you would not take me with force. Surely, you know a woman must be wooed if she is to accept a man.” Jessica had told her how she’d been wooed. Pursued by Lord Maltsby. Surely, the case wasn’t different even after two people wed.
“If I wanted a wife I needed to woo, I’d have married someone else.”
Lucy narrowed her gaze and tried to leave his lap, but his arms were like iron bars. She was being kind in the face of his poor attitude, but she would not allow him to treat her like some lowly animal. Otherwise, she’d never gain his respect. “Then perhaps you should have married someone else.”
“That’s not what I meant.” he said with exasperation, as though she were the one being unreasonable!
She launched forward.
He yanked her back, pulling her against his flat chest. “Be still, woman.” he growled in her ear.
She refused, continuing to squirm…until she felt the evidence of her husband’s arousal. By then, she was breathing hard. His hands were spread against her belly and he pressed her closer.
His warm breath brushed her neck. “I...don’t know how to woo you. Or anyone. I’ve lost my ability to ask for things. There was never any point.” Because he’d always been denied.
“But surely…” She paused. “There have been other women?”
“Not many, no.” he replied. “Most people cannot stand my temper.”
She grunted. “Have you ever tried not being angry?”
His hands moved to her hips and tightened. He kissed her neck and a million butterflies were set free in her belly. “I wasn’t angry yesterday when you gave yourself to me.”
She hid her smile and made sure to straighten her face before turning to look at him. “I know you seek revenge from me, and I understand why. I hit you with a chair.”
“No.” His darkness of his eyes touched her very soul. “I trusted you. I wanted to give you everything. You betrayed me and though I understand why, it still hurts.”
She touched his cheek as her eyes swam with tears. “I know. But don’t you see? I’m your wife now. Punishing me only punishes you as well. Why don’t we try to make each other happy? Haven’t we both been missing enough of that in our lives? Don’t we deserve it?”
∫ ∫ ∫
3 0
* * *
Kent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been dumbfounded by anyone so often, yet Lucy was stunning him every day…with her great fortitude, kindness, beauty, and her words.
He knew that what he currently held in his hands was a treasure, and he admitted to having issues with seeking revenge on Lucy. She was amazing. And she was…right.
She’d been just as miserable as him in that house with Mr. Goody. Even worse, she’d had to cook and clean up after the men, which could have been no easy feat considering there had been nothing he could do for himself with all the chains that had been holding him down.
Did she deserve happiness?
Did he?
He wasn’t sure what he would do with himself if presented the chance. He barely trusted the word itself. Happiness. It had never been a possibility. Was achieving such a thing as easy as Lucy made it sound?
They arrived at the carriage maker’s shop and Kent helped Lucy down onto the street.
The business was set some distance from the city, and there was enough space for new carriages to be set out in a tight row. Most of the designs were plain and efficient. But a few would gain more attention with their sleek curves, heraldry, and motifs carved into the doors and frames.
The day was a bright one, and many people were out.
Once again, he noticed that Lucy’s attire was lacking compared to those around them.
“We’ll go to a modiste after this.” Kent said.
She looked at him. “I’m fine as I am.”
He leaned toward her. “That was not an opening to a discussion or an argument.”
She shut her lips, and her chest rose and fell with a mighty breath. Then she looked away.
He groaned. “What?”
She looked at him again. Some of her earlier bravado was missing. “I would rather not spend my coin on clothing.” she said with a straight face.
He blinked. “Who said anything about using your own money? Is that the reason you’ve yet to go to modiste?”
She sighed and lifted her shoulders. Her eyes fell again. “You never said exactly where the funds for clothing were to come from. In fact, all I’ve been guarant
eed from this marriage was full protection for George and revenge, which would not include actual bodily harm to me.” She looked at him. “How was I to know you’d give me credit?”
He sighed. “I’ve had my man of business open accounts for you all over the city. Spend as much or as little of my money as you wish.” He looked her over. “Lean more toward the former where it comes to clothes.”
She narrowed her gaze.
And Kent made a decision. “Revenge shall be off the table for the moment. Let us try this…happiness you spoke of.” Why not? It didn’t mean he’d ever trust her, but he supposed he could pretend.
The very thought of having a happy appearance that he could rub in his mother’s face was already beginning to brighten his day.
* * *
Lucy was surprised by Kent’s words but had little time to do more than smile before a clerk approached them. For the next hour, her time was spent discussing what her carriage would look like. When they’d arrived, she’d thought Kent would choose the first and most simple box on wheels they could find. Instead, he’d had something else in mind.
While the exterior could be modest, if she so chose, he wanted the interior to be grand.
She listened more than she actually spoke. Kent seemed to know much about carriages, including the best springs and wheels. She noticed his own excitement growing as he and the clerk went on, comparing one design over the other where it came to speed and durability.
She laughed aloud at one point and gained her husband’s attention.
His gaze turned to her, cutting the sales clerk off. “What is so funny?”
Her face tightened with embarrassment. “I was only thinking of how much you reminded me of George with his toys. You must really like carriages.” She wondered for a moment if the comparison would offend him.
But then Kent’s eyes softened, and he smiled.
Her heart fluttered.
“Is George your son, my lord?” the clerk asked with a grin. “We’ve a fine selection of miniature iron carriages that just arrived. One has a boy and his dog on it.”
“A boy can’t have too many carriages.” Kent said. “I’d like to see it after we’re done outfitting my wife.”
“Of course.” the clerk said.
Another flutter broke off inside of Lucy’s body, but this time it was much, much lower. Kent had not corrected the clerk’s assumption that George was his son, and Lucy was happy for the remainder of the day.
But all of it was drained by the sight that greeted her upon their return to the house.
George was outside and Mr. Adam Maltsby was dragging him toward his carriage. It was as though an explosion went off inside her chest, blowing the very heart and soul out of her and leaving her without air.
She leaped from the carriage and had no clue what she was shouting, but whatever it was got Mr. Maltsby’s attention. She hardly noticed Lady Nora and the housekeeper Mrs. Barton at the door.
Then Kent was moving past her, and a weeping George was released.
“He’s mine.” Maltsby held up a paper. His hand shook, either to gain Kent’s attention or with fear. She took in how his face lacked color and assumed it was the latter. “My father has placed me as his guardian. I’ve every right to take him!”
Kent stood before Maltsby. His face was expressionless as he turned to Lucy. “Take the boy inside.”
Lucy already had George in her arms. The boy was clinging to her tightly. She looked between the men, frozen.
“You can’t do that.” Mr. Maltsby said. “He is mine. I’ll call the authorities if he is not given to me right this instant.”
Kent didn’t look at Maltsby. His eyes were all for Lucy. “Inside. Now.”
Lucy moved then, ushering George back inside.
“He came from nowhere, my lady,” Mrs. Barton started. “He demanded to speak to either you or Lord Garden, but when I informed him that you weren’t here, he demanded the boy. Naturally, I protested. I even had Lady Nora hide him, but he searched the house, as though he had the authority of the king. He kept waving that paper and none of the footman knew what to do at that point. He seemed to have legal authority to take young George. I’m terribly sorry.”
By the time the housekeeper had finished speaking, Lucy had George in his room and laying down on the bed. He continued to weep. His body trembled.
“He’s a terrible man.” Mrs. Barton went on. She was weeping as well.
Lucy shook her head. She understood the woman’s pain. She’d likely witnessed a very horrible sight, but Lucy could not deal with it at the moment. “Please, Mrs. Barton. I need a moment alone with George.”
“Of course. I’ll go make tea.” Mrs. Barton rushed from the room and closed the door behind her.
“You said...I could...stay with you,” George said through great tears and choking. His sobs rocked her fragile spirit. “You said Lord Ganden…wouldn’t send me…away.”
Lucy grabbed his arms. Though he was much too large to be cradled, she tried her best. It didn’t matter how large he grew, he would always be her baby. “No one is ever going to take you away from me, George. No one.”
George wrapped his arms around her. “But Mr. Maltsby said…Lord Ganden didn’t want me here.”
“That’s not true!” Lucy closed her eyes and cursed Mr. Maltsby. She hated him so much her body trembled with it. She wished she could turn that hate into a weapon to destroy him, but she felt so helpless.
Lucy took great breaths to pull herself together. She had to be strong for George. There was no sense in them both weeping. That would accomplish nothing.
Besides, George had nothing to fear, for when it came down to it, she’d leave London with him if need be. The money she had wouldn’t get them far, but it was enough to make them disappear. She would hate to do it. She would hate to leave Kent, but George needed her. He had to come first.
When Lucy was certain she had herself together, she set George away so she could meet his eyes. “Ganden enjoys having you, George. He really does. He even brought you a gift just this day.”
George frowned in confusion. “But…I’m costing Lord Ganden so much money and I take up all his time with riding lessons. Mr. Maltsby said—”
“Mr. Maltsby is a fool if he thinks I do not enjoy our lessons,” Kent said from the door, startling them both.
∫ ∫ ∫
3 1
* * *
Kent closed the door behind him and then dropped down next to George on the bed. He stared into the young man’s watery blue eyes. “Don’t listen to anything Mr. Maltsby says. Riding with you through Hyde Park has been some of the happiest moments of my life.” The other happiest moments had been with Lucy. Even while living in the hell that Mr. Goody had made for them, Kent couldn’t say he’d been more pleased in his life than those months Lucy had slept by his side.
He hadn’t known just how happy George and his aunt were making him until the moment he’d seen it all being snatched away from him. Because there had been no doubt in his mind that if he’d allowed George to be taken, Lucy would follow, and he’d be unable to stop her.
She’d leave him, likely run with the boy if she had to. He was not a fool to think she wouldn’t if given enough reason. She would never choose Kent over George, and he would never ask her to. If he were her, he’d make the same decision. Life for George would already be a challenge. He needed all the support he could get.
George had stopped weeping and was taking deep breaths as he stared at Kent. “Do I have to go now?”
“That man can’t threaten you anymore, George,” Kent said. “I’ve taken care of it.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes, likely wondering what Kent had done to get Mr. Maltsby to go away but not wanting to ask in front of George.
Essentially, Kent had sold his soul to the man, but she would never have to know that.
“Is Mr. Maltsby still alive?” George asked in wonder.
Did the boy think Kent had killed him?
> Apparently.
The question was so honest that Kent couldn’t help but chuckle. “Unfortunately.”
“Kent.” Lucy chastened, but her lips twitched a little.
“So, I get to stay?” George whispered with uncertainty.
Kent touched the boy’s head. “You’re as much mine as your aunt is.”
George’s face transformed. Like a weight had been pulled away to reveal a boy more his age. Then he moved and wrapped his arms around Kent.
Kent stiffened. Two hugs in one day? He wasn’t sure how to handle this. He looked up at Lucy, certain she would know what to do.
But Lucy was uselessly weeping, her face buried in her hands.
Leaning forward, he wrapped her in one arm and took hold of George with the other. Then he sat there and said nothing. Though inside, every emotion he’d ever felt was at war. The internal battle was an ugly one. Darkness and light drew swords, and there was a moment when he thought the darkness would win.
But then peace settled over him, and the silence was deafening. Kent took a breath and then another, but every breath felt foreign to him, and he didn’t understand why.
Then he knew what was missing.
The anger.
He did a mental search for it but found nothing. Not even the thought of Mr. Maltsby and the meeting he’d have with the man in the morning could revive it. Not while he held the two most important people in his life in his arms.
Lucy looked away and smiled. Then her hands gripped his head and brought him down.
With the same forced he’d have used with a horse, he yanked back his emotional reins when a groan threatened to leave his lips as she kissed him. But he could not stop his desire from burning in his eyes. Her returned smile told him he’d be more than welcomed in her bed tonight.
“Can I call you Uncle Ganden?” George asked.
Kent blinked a few times before turning to the boy. “Uncle Kent would be better. Rarely anyone calls me by my name.” He’d been named after his grandfather on his mother’s side and often wondered if the man would have liked him if he’d been alive.
George’s eyes widened. He clearly understood how great a privilege it was to do so. Then he grinned. “Uncle Kent.”
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 14