“She’d hate Lord Maltsby for what he’s done to their son.” She sniffed. “I hope that journal fills him with great guilt.”
Kent tightened his hold. “You read the journal.”
“I did.” she whispered. “That’s how I knew I could never give it to George. I almost didn’t want to give it to Lord Maltsby, but I thought he should know how much my sister loved him, worshiped him…and then how much his rejection pained her. If anyone is responsible for her death, it is him.” Heat was in the words. “She was so distraught while carrying George. I often wondered if she even wanted to…”
To go on. He knew that feeling, that level of rejection.
Kent turned Lucy into his arms and pulled her head down close to his heart. For the second time in a week, Kent felt his eyes burn. “If there were more people like you in the world, it would be such a better place.”
She sniffed and looked up. Her face was red and beautiful. She cupped his face in her hands. “Thank you, Kent. Thank you for taking us in and giving us a home and your…consideration.”
He grabbed her hips and pulled her close. “I didn’t take you in. I hunted you down and blackmailed you into marrying me.”
Her lips parted in a grin. “Well, you clearly knew what was best for me.”
Kent couldn’t help himself. He threw back his head and laughed. The moment was supposed to be serious, but Lucy…She did that often, he realized, trying to make light of the mood when he would rather have dwelt on the pain. He was used to laying in the darkness. He didn’t know how to deal with the light.
She went into his jacket and reached for his handkerchief and then used it to clean her eyes and nose. It was comforting to see she knew she could take what she wanted from him without asking. It settled something within him.
As if realizing what she’d done, she looked up and asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”
He shook his head and took it from her before putting it in his pocket. “Will you be able to replicate that painting?” It was a beautiful painting and had clearly been done by a master.
Lucy looked at it and then him. “Jessica and I once ruined a very prized painting of my father’s. It took me a week to replicate it. He never knew the difference. When we were low on funds, he sold it and made quite a profit.”
Kent’s eyes widened. “My dear, that is called forgery.”
She shrugged. “I was only sixteen.” She took on a look suddenly that made her appear younger. It was very likely she’d used that look on others before to get her way.
Kent chuckled. “My wife is a forger.”
She put a finger to his lips. “That stays between us, Lord Ganden.”
He liked that, having something just between them. He was learning more and more about her.
“It’ll take me a few weeks to finish Jessica.” Lucy said as she turned around. “And it will take most of my days, I fear.”
Kent didn’t wish to complain, but…now that Lucy was in his life, he enjoyed filling his days with her.
She positioned herself in front of her easel and looked at him over her shoulder. “You can remain if you wish.” She motioned to the table on the other side of the space with her chin. “Be creative.”
Kent moved over and looked at the table that was fit with all the tools for a master carpenter. He then realized most of them already belonged to him. He looked at Lucy. “You wish me to build something?”
She smiled. “Please. Don’t leave me here alone all day.”
Kent returned to his wife, lifted her chin, and kissed her before beginning to shrug out of his jacket. “How could I resist such a plea?”
Lucy blushed before turning back to her blank canvas, a pencil poised in her hand. A determined look came over her face as she studied Jessica’s painting.
They’d be in the same room, but his wife was gone, becoming a master forger.
He smiled and moved to the table. Looking everything over, he had no clue what to do with any of it. But a stirring had already began to take place in him. Excitement at the possibilities.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 5
* * *
“Wise decision of you to place your money back in good hands.” Lord Hobbins said as he puffed his already robust chest out and lifted his chin to meet Kent’s eyes. The man barely reached the middle of Kent’s chest, yet no one had the ability to annoy Kent more.
Hobbins wore his gray and white hair in wild curls with a bald patch at his crown. His dark eyes held Kent’s under bushy brows. “Lord Maltsby was likely innocent anyway.” he said in a loud voice, trying to speak over the crowd of other guests at the party. “A man like that, one who spends his time with numbers and controls a great portion of English wealth, likely wouldn’t have had the time to plot your kidnapping anyway.”
Kent felt his jaw tick and heat pour down his throat and settle in his belly. “The papers said I invested in the Gentlemen’s Society again. They didn’t say I thought the man innocent.” And he would never make that claim. “Besides, there was evidence—”
“Evidence can be created.” Hobbins said. “It was likely done by a servant, someone jealous of the man’s wealth. You know how the common can be. Petty.” He frowned. “I, for one, never dared to pull my money from the bank. Why would I when he was making me rich?”
Kent recalled the last time he and Hobbins had crossed paths and how Kent had wanted to throw the man out the window. He was revisiting that idea currently, regretting that he’d not done it the first time.
“Lord Maltsby told me himself that he was guilty,” Kent said.
Hobbin’s expression became condescending. “Is that what truly happened?”
Kent took a deep breath and reminded himself not to make a scene. Hobbins hadn’t been the first lord to approach him after it was announced two days ago that Kent had returned his funds to the Gentlemen’s Society.
He’d never known how much influence he had over the ton until that day, for it was reported the next morning that most of the bank’s previous patrons had returned. It was as though Kent and the other lords had been holding back a tide. No one wanted to be associated with a criminal, especially one who had wronged other gentlemen…but if those wronged men could forgive the villain…
Most lords assumed that Kent simply thought the young Maltsby uninvolved in the scandal and had therefore decided he shouldn’t be punished for his father’s wrongdoing. This was not the case, but it was one Kent had allowed the public to believe until he could prove otherwise.
But no one had dared approached Kent with the theory that Lord Maltsby was innocent.
Only Hobbins seemed to have the inclination for death.
“Don’t be a fool, Kent.” Hobbins glared. “Of course, he’s innocent.”
A hand grabbed Kent’s fist just as he was about to swing. He was spun around to find the Marquess of Denhallow.
“Let’s go find your wife.” Denhallow suggested.
Kent blinked as a debate went on in his mind. Find Lucy and her presence to cool his temper or kill…
He spun around to face Hobbin again but found the man was already being carted away by Astlen. The duke grinned and laughed with the tiny idiot.
“Shall we go find Lady Lucy?” Denhallow offered again. “I believe we should.”
* * *
Lucy tried to hide from the man who approached her, but it was of no use. Lord Gregory Van Dero was grinning as he hobbled on his cane. He coughed into his hand to clear his throat. It took him some time to succeed. “Lady Lucy. It’s a surprise to see you here.”
Lucy grabbed the older gentleman’s available arm as she moved close. He seemed ready to tumble. “Lord Van Dero.”
“Glad to see you’re no longer under Lord Maltsby’s hand. You look well.” he said as she moved them to two vacant chairs in the corner.
“Thank you.” she said once they were seated. She was nervous around the man. She could never tell his true intentions or motives, not with anything he
did or said.
He looked kind. He seemed gentle and usually had meaningful and amiable things to say. But Lucy could not forget that this was the same man who’d helped Lord Maltsby lock away the lords.
And she was the only person at the party who knew.
“I never spoke to you before. Your station didn’t allow it, but now…How is Ganden?” Lord Van Dero’s eyes were a tranquil blue, his hair white and full.
“He wants to know who was involved in his kidnapping.”
“Lord Maltsby was involved.” Van Dero said. “That is all he need know. For his sake and everyone else’s. Keep that in mind. You know the consequences of a man like him knowing the truth.” He wore a sympathetic smile.
“He’d come after you.” Lucy said.
“And we’ll come after all of them. Don’t forget we kept them alive. Well fed. We’re not monsters.”
But they were. Lucy’s heart raced.
“We can change that.” Lord Van Dero warned. “You know we can.”
“I know.” she whispered.
“Don’t fret, dear.” Van Dero smiled. “Lord Maltsby knows his role and you know yours. And so long as everyone plays their part, no one need know what I know about Ganden. I will take it to my grave.”
Lucy said nothing.
“Chin up, dear.” Lord Van Dero said. “You are doing the right thing.”
“May I ask you a question?” Lucy asked.
He looked at her and smiled. “Why not? Go on, but don’t ask me who else was involved. I’ll never say.”
She’d never dare to ask that. “Was it you or one of the others who forbid Lord Maltsby to marry my sister?”
Lord Van Dero’s eyes widened. “Oh, Lady Jessica. Oh, yes. It was me. Maltsby, in exchange for my silence, was supposed to marry my daughter Harriet. I wanted to tie our families together permanently, keep the power and wealth for generations to come, but Harriet died of illness and…” Van Dero shrugged. “As did your sister. Not sure why Maltsby didn’t marry after that.”
A woman came over and began to speak with Van Dero, so Lucy excused herself.
“Were you speaking with Lord Van Dero?” Lady Denhallow asked as she came to stand by Lucy.
Startled, Lucy turned to her. “Yes.”
Lady Kimberley, the Marchioness of Denhallow, was a raven-haired beauty with dark green eyes that seemed to shine like precious stones. “Do you know his family well?” she asked while handing Lucy a cup.
The two had met and got on very well. Kim had gone to get a refreshment when Lord Van Dero had approached her.
“No, I don’t know his family well.” Lucy said.
“Have you met his son?” Kim asked.
Lucy sipped. “The Prime Minister? No.”
But Lord Van Dero’s connection to Lord Cephas Moore, the Prime Minister, was another reason Lucy held her peace.
Lord Fawley and Lord Coalwater approached suddenly.
“You two.” Fawley said with grin. “Come with us.”
“Why?” Kimberley asked.
“You’ll see.” Fawley grabbed Lucy’s arm while Coalwater took Kimberley’s.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 6
* * *
“Did you hear what he said to me?” Kent asked as he glared at Denhallow, still fuming half an hour later. The skin on his arms prickled with inaction. “He called me a fool. I’d be doing the world a service by ridding it of him.”
“That you would,” the marquess agreed “but then who would take care of Lucy and George? Come now, let’s go see where your countess is.”
“No need to look.” Fawley said as he approached. “I found her.” Lucy was on his arm. Lady Denhallow was on Coalwater’s.
The men were working together to stop Kent from making a fool of himself. He was grateful that they cared, but at the moment, he wanted them all to leave him be.
The women had been smiling at one another, speaking, but Lucy’s smile fell when she looked at Kent.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy broke from Fawley’s side and took hold of his arm. “What’s happened?”
Kent glared over her head at everyone else before returning his gaze to Lucy. “Nothing.” He’d been doing well with his anger. A whole fortnight had passed and whenever he’d felt the first hint of frustration, he immediately focused on something else.
Like how good George was getting on a horse. The boy was beyond impressive and was growing bold. Kent enjoyed watching the confidence that had taken root and seemed to be blooming at great speeds.
And there was Lucy. Her recreation of Jessica was stunning him. Every time he looked over at her working, he found himself so enthralled and aroused that it was almost impossible to not distract her.
And he did distract her whenever George wasn’t underfoot.
George came in for an hour or two most days. Kent was teaching him how to use the carpentry tools. They were building a larger boat. Most days, George became so excited that he debated on the merits of becoming fisherman or a jockey.
Kent and Lucy encouraged both.
He’d had yet to actually get on a boat, so Kent was planning to take him before the weather turned.
“Don’t tell me it’s nothing when I know there’s something.” Lucy said with a slight frown in her golden eyes.
Kent smiled. “It’s nothing.” He took her hand. “Dance with me.”
Lucy’s eyes widened as he pulled her toward the ballroom. “But we’ve already danced twice tonight. Someone might say something.”
He stopped and turned to her. They were alone in the hall and he backed her slightly into the wall. “Then we can go somewhere else and exert ourselves in an entirely different fashion.”
* * *
Lucy gasped and wondered how it was her body had yet to catch fire, how she’d yet to burn to ash by the way Kent was staring at her.
It was odd. Moments ago, she’d seen murder in his eyes, but now nothing remained but desire.
She was glad for the change, but had to ask, “What has gotten into you?”
“I don’t know.” he said. Just staring into his eyes shook Lucy to her core. “Perhaps I’m beginning to understand what happiness is.” He took a step back when a few ladies began to wander through the hall.
Lucy pressed her fist into her skirts to keep herself from dragging him back toward her.
Kent was turning out to be a most wonderful surprise. She had no clue how they’d gotten where they were, but never in her adult life had she ever wished to stay suspended in a moment forever.
Recently, their days together were so glorious that she was almost hesitant to believe they’d happened at all. Kent was different from the man she’d first met. More patient and very attentive, though she confessed that she had always held his attention in some way. At first, after they’d wed, he’d seemed to war with either being angry or content that she was there. Now, Lucy had no trouble reading his emotions. He was happy, though it was the first time he’d said so out loud.
He was magnificent for many reasons, though she couldn’t deny that watching him with George unleashed a wild and untamable flutter deep within her soul.
The only thing that dampened the heavenly place they’d reached together were the secrets she knew. Should she tell him? She didn’t want to break the serenity that seemed to blanket their home. He’d grow upset if he knew his father wasn’t really his father and that the man who had worked with Maltsby was nearly untouchable.
It was too soon. Yet another side of Lucy wondered if the time would ever be right. Why did Kent need to know? What good would it do him in the end? No good at all.
“Are you having fun with your friends?” Kent suddenly asked.
She smiled softly. They’d come to the party so that Kent could meet the people from her past, those she’d counted close, as per her list.
Kent had made his own list, and she’d not been surprised to see only five names. Coalwater, Fawley, Denhallow, Astlen, and his brother Colby.
&n
bsp; Lucy was only beginning to reacquaint herself with her old friends. She was glad to know that all had welcomed her back into their fold, though she knew that for more than a few that would have never been the case if she weren’t the Countess of Ganden. There were those who’d hesitated to embrace her when they learned that Jessica had had a child and no husband, and that Lucy was caring for the boy. Had she still been Lady Lucy Newpark, they might have rejected her, but she couldn’t be sure.
“I’m having a wonderful time,” she said “and they like you, especially Anna.”
He grinned. “Every time she looks as me, from the moment we were introduced, there has been knowledge in her eyes. Did she know about me? Us?”
Lucy looked down at his chest. “I told her everything about our time together a few years ago and all about Lord Maltsby. She’s despised him for years and is very glad he’s in prison.” At the mention of something so dark, she glanced up, prepared to see anger.
But Kent’s expression remained light. “Glad to know she is an ally. What did you tell her about me?”
Lucy smiled and slowly climbed her fingers to her heart, where it beat unrelentingly against her ribs. “I told her that something special had happened between us, but I was forced to trade that something special for George.” Her chest ached at the memory. Just remembering what she’d done to this man she cared so greatly for was still nearly as painful as the moment after it had been done.
Kent took her hands and pressed a kiss to each one. “Lucy, I forgave you for that. Don’t be troubled by the decision anymore. The boy had no one else. You made the right choice. You made the only decision there was to make at the time.”
She nodded. “I know.” But with all the other things that stood between them, it was hard for Lucy to not feel remorse.
∫ ∫ ∫
4 7
* * *
The guilt on Lucy’s face was nearly touchable and seemed deeply rooted.
Kent had noticed the look a few times over the past week. There were moments when Lucy would burn like a star, but then dim slightly, not enough to stop being the largest presence of light in his life, but enough for him to notice.
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 22