As the trunks were being packed, she left Kent a note, detailing what she believed he should do with the letter she’d found in Lord Maltsby’s hiding place, and then left it and the letter from the constable on Kent’s desk where she knew he would see it.
When everything was set, she finally woke George.
It took a moment for his eyes to focus. “What’s going on, Aunt Lucy?”
“We’re going on a trip.” She put on a smile that she hoped belied her anxiety.
George’s eyes widened with excitement. “Is Uncle Kent coming?”
She’d not been prepared for that question. It didn’t surprise her at all that George would wish for Kent to go on their trip.
“No, Lord Ganden isn’t coming. Come, we must leave quickly.”
“Where are we going?” George asked with a frown.
“I’ll tell you later.” She turned away and busied herself straightening the room. “It’s a surprise.”
“Are we getting something for Uncle Kent? A gift?” George was obsessed with his uncle.
If only his uncle had felt the same. Instead, he’d pushed Lucy away and had then plotted to send George away. Yet he’d reached out to her hours ago. What would have happened if she’d let him touch her?
It didn’t matter. She was done playing this game with him, exposing her feelings only for him to seem to cherish her one moment and detest her the next. She was through.
She ushered George out of the room and was greeted by the cheerful yet suspicious Mrs. Barton. Eris trailed behind her. “Where are you going? I saw the footmen packing your trunks.”
She hated to lie to the woman, but she had no choice. “To visit my sister. She’s…ill. George and I are going to go see her.”
George had bent down to scratch Eris’ head. He looked up and frowned at Lucy. “But I thought—”
“Lord Kent knows.” Lucy said, cutting the boy off before he revealed that Jessica was dead.
Mrs. Baxter smiled, but the confusion didn’t clear from her brow. “Well, have a good trip, my lady.” She left to the kitchen.
Lucy stared down at George. “Do you want to take Eris?” She didn’t think they could afford the dog, but Kent had gotten it for him. The least she could do was let the boy keep some memory of a man he admired.
George stared at Eris and then looked at Lucy. His eyes studied her face with a depth of knowledge no child should have. Then he sighed and stood, leaving the dog on the floor. “I don’t want him to be alone.”
Since Eris was a girl, she knew he was speaking about Kent. He knew there was a chance they would not return and was leaving Eris behind to give Kent comfort. Lucy kissed his head and forced herself to hold back her tears, before leading him out the door.
She got him settled in the carriage before he spoke. “Who are we visiting, Aunt Lucy?”
“I’ll tell you everything later, George, but give me a moment to think please?” Lucy’s mind was racing. She was panicking, unsure if she were making the right decision.
She stared at Kent’s residence and could feel a hollowness in her chest. An ache.
She was leaving her heart behind.
And perhaps, that was for the best, because Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever love again.
∫ ∫ ∫
5 6
* * *
Kent listened to the conversation around him, but he was deeply distracted. His mind was stuck on the moment that Lucy had pulled away from his touch. That single act had burned him in a way he’d been unprepared for.
He’d been weak when he’d reached out to her, wanting her comfort though knowing he didn’t deserve it. Perhaps, it had been his conversation with Lord Maltsby that had urged him to try and rectify his relationship with Lucy. The other lord had lost the love of his life yet Kent’s had stood right before him, alive, breathing.
Sad.
And he had no one to blame but himself for any of it.
Seeing her after his meeting with Lord Maltsby had made him realize the opportunity he was missing when it came to his happiness— even if that happiness would be fleeting.
He’d never had more joy in his life than when he was with her, so why not take it for as long as he could? Why not soak in her goodness until one day she decided he no longer deserved it?
And that day would have come.
Perhaps it would have taken a week, a month, years even, but the day would come when she would look at Kent and find him wanting. That was his life. That was how the world viewed him. She would have done the same.
But until that day…
Why hadn’t he allowed himself a few years, days, hours, a few minutes more of her laugh and the taste of her sweet mouth? Why hadn’t he allowed her to hold him a few more nights and smile at him a few more mornings?
Lucy used to smile like Lady Denhallow was currently doing as she read her book. She sat leaning into her husband’s chest on the couch. He was idly playing with her hair, likely unaware that he was rubbing a lock between his fingers as he argued with Astlen.
That woman was his anchor. Kent could see it, feel it, just as he knew Lucy had been his.
What had he done? He’d been afraid of the pain that would come when she finally rejected him. But this…He rubbed his chest. This was torture.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Fawley peered down at him. “Are you all right?”
No, Kent was not. He stood. “I…I have to go home.” He’d been avoiding Lucy far too long.
Astlen turned to him. “What’s going on? Where are you going? I thought you wished to see Lord Maltsby buried just as much as the rest of us.”
Lady Denhallow gasped and put down her book. “You all have been plotting this man’s death? I thought you only wished to see him arrested again.”
Lord Denhallow narrowed his eyes at Astlen before he turned and smiled at his wife. “Return to your book, my heart. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I do if you are planning to do something foolish.” She closed her book and stared at each of the men. “I can’t believe you. This is wrong.”
“You weren’t there!” Astlen said as he gained his feet. “You have no right to judge.”
Lord Denhallow’s arm tightened around his shocked and angered wife. “Lower your voice, friend.” The tone he used was quiet but strong and promised very bad things.
Astlen turned away without an apology.
Kent didn’t have time for this argument. “I’ll see you men another day.”
“When?” Astlen asked.
“I don’t know.” Kent was already at the door. All he could think about was getting to Lucy, and he imagined it would take him some time to gain her forgiveness. Compared to that, whatever happened to Lord Maltsby didn’t matter.
Why hadn’t he seen that before?
He left quickly and tried to calm himself as something like fear latched onto his chest. It felt like his carriage was moving slower than usual. He couldn’t see where he was from the window. When had darkness fallen?
Unease had burrowed itself into his chest and would not rest until he saw her. Just one glance at Lucy was all he needed to calm himself. He bounded out of the carriage when it arrived.
Mrs. Barton was in the foyer, sitting in a chair. She cradled Eris in her grasp, which Kent immediately took to be a bad sign. She stood when he entered and put Eris on the ground. “They’re gone.”
Kent stared at her and prayed she was not referring to who he thought. “Who has gone?”
His housekeeper moved to stand before him. Her eyes were worried. “Lady Lucy and the boy. She said she went to see her sister. She said you knew about it, but Lady Nora knew nothing about it. The governess was so distraught I sent her to bed with a little brandy.”
His bones went weak, but he managed to lock his knees to keep from crumbling to the floor. His expression must have given him away.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Mrs. Barton asked. She sighed and hung her head. “I’m sorry, my lord. I
knew I should have tried to stop her or at least alert you.” When she looked up at him again, there was a lifetime of sadness in her eyes.
He was reminded of what his mother had said. His mother had slept with Mrs. Barton’s husband and Kent had been a product of that affair. Yet Mrs. Barton had done nothing but show Kent kindness throughout his entire life. If anyone should have despised him, it should have been her. Yet she hadn’t. He wondered why, but there was too much to unpack here. He didn’t feel like dealing with the mystery of the housekeeper he’d inherited.
“When did she leave?” he asked.
“An hour ago.” Mrs. Barton said. “She could be on the far end of London by now.”
Kent was surprised he was still able to breathe and that his blood still pumped from his heart, keeping him alive, for inside he felt as though he were dying. He stood there, unmoving.
Mrs. Barton asked. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”
It sounded like a reasonable thing to do, except… “I’ve no idea where she would go.” He doubted she’d be foolish enough to go to Miss Anna Graves again, especially after the lady had helped him so purposefully last time.
Would she go to her family’s old home? To actually visit her sister’s grave?
“Did she pack a trunk?” he asked.
“She did.” Mrs. Barton hadn’t moved either. She simply continued to stare up at him with a distress that matched his feelings completely.
Eris whined at Kent’s feet. He bent over and picked the animal up. He was reminded of the day they’d bought her. Lucy and George had been so happy. The day had been a good one, one of the best Kent had ever had.
His other best days had also included Lucy. Now, he doubted there would be any good days for him left.
“Well?” Mrs. Barton said, placing her hands on her hips. “You can’t just…stand here and do nothing. Go after her.”
He frowned down at her as he scratched Eris’ head. “It’s over, Mrs. Barton. She’s left me. It was only a matter of time anyway.” He walked past her and moved into his study.
“That’s not true,” Mrs. Barton said. “She loves you. I know she does.”
He turned to her and noticed the way she was wringing her hands. The housekeeper had never spoken so frankly to Kent except for the first week of Kent’s return, when he’d mindlessly began to destroy the house. Mrs. Barton had been quick to hide anything she thought of the most importance and had even forbidden Kent from destroying the bedchambers.
He’d been in a delirious daze of rage and could hardly recall her exact words. He’d been little more than a beast for months. Then, finally, he only destroyed something when Mr. Charles and his gang would return with no news of Lucy or when his mother would summon him only to make him regret being in her presence.
No one had ever loved him before. No one had ever cared.
Except for Mrs. Barton. She clearly feared he’d dismiss her on the grounds of impertinence. But he was more likely to dismiss his own mother before he dismissed this woman.
And in reality, he had dismissed his mother.
He sat in his chair and propped Eris in his arm. The dog licked at his fingers. “Like you said, she could be anywhere and…I’m getting what I deserve.”
Mrs. Barton’s eyes flickered with surprise that he was engaging her in conversation. Then she moved farther into the room. “I suppose you could have been kinder to her.”
He grunted and scratched Eris behind the ears. The dog was calming, her head now resting. In a moment, Kent thought she’d be asleep. “I was a terrible husband.”
“You had your faults.” She was standing at the desk now. “But people can change.”
Kent held her eyes and asked, “Did my father change?”
Mrs. Barton trembled with shock. “Oh, the Earl of Ganden likely saw right while he lay on his deathbed—”
“No, not the earl.” Kent said. “My father.”
∫ ∫ ∫
5 7
* * *
Mrs. Barton blinked and stared at Kent. “Oh. She told you, did she?”
Kent motioned for her to sit, and Mrs. Barton fell into a chair, falling as though she were dragged there by the weight of her past. “My husband wasn’t a bad man.”
“He slept with my mother,” Kent said “and betrayed you.”
“I betrayed him, perhaps.” She looked at him. “You were his only child, you know? I could never conceive.” Her cheeks brightened. “I was a shame to my family.” She looked ready to weep.
“No.” Kent didn’t know exactly why he thundered the word at her. It was a combination of anger at the man who’d fathered him and at Mrs. Barton for the words she’d said against herself. “You have always been a fine woman. You were kinder than most, even when it could have gotten you in trouble with my family. You had every right to lash out at me, the child of your husband’s that you didn’t carry yourself. I know the thoughts must have come to you. How easy it would have been to shun me just as much as everyone else did. Yet you didn’t. Not once did I ever feel a pinch of animosity from you when you were the one who had every right.”
Eris was asleep and Kent moved to placed her down on the floor. She didn’t stir at all.
Mrs. Barton shook her head. “You were only a boy.”
“A boy who should have never been born.”
Her eyes rounded. “My lord, you mustn’t say that about yourself. You mustn’t think it. Not for a moment. You were a gift from the Lord, just like any child is. Don’t ever believe otherwise, no matter what that horrible woman—” She’d been frowning but then gasped as she realized what she said. She covered her lips. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t speak such a way about a lady.”
Kent would have told Mrs. Barton not to worry, but his eyes had caught something on the table. A paper he didn’t recall being there before. He reached out and picked it up.
The words jarred his mind. He was forced to start over and then he read it in its entirety.
It was evidence, better evidence of Lord Maltsby’s crime than he’d ever seen before. His guilt was laid out in the fine penmanship of the local constable. It was everything Kent needed to put Lord Maltsby away.
He desperately wanted to be happy, yet he still felt hollow inside. Not even this great news could stir an ounce of warmth within him.
“Where did this come from?” he asked Mrs. Barton.
“I don’t know. I didn’t notice it until now. Perhaps, Mr. Charles brought it in or your wife before she departed.”
Lucy. He knew it was her immediately. Mr. Charles would have never just left this on a table. He would have handed it to Kent, but Lucy didn’t want to see him.
Because he’d pushed her away.
“What is it?” Mrs. Barton asked.
He told her the truth.
She smiled. “That’s wonderful news. Now, what are you going to do about Lady Lucy?”
“Nothing.” He stood. “I chased her once. I failed her. Now, it’s only right that I let her go.”
Mrs. Barton pressed her lips together, but it was clear she wanted to fight him. Fight for him, even, but he didn’t encourage her to speak as he started for the door.
“Just…” Mrs. Barton began.
He turned to her and waited. When she didn’t finish fast enough, he said, “Just what?”
“Just…” She walked forward. “Try. Marriage is not easy, my lord. Though you may think the very best of me, even I have my faults. I’m sure Lady Lucy had hers as well, if I might be so frank.”
Kent thought about that and nodded. “But when do faults become too great, Mrs. Barton?” He truly wanted the answer to that.
She moved right up to him and said, “That all depends.”
“On what?” he prompted, feeling her words would touch his soul.
“On the heart.” She touched his arm. “We all set our own limits, but sometimes those limits can be moved. That is the only way forgiveness can live, Lord Ganden. It is the only way it can exist. O
therwise, it is not forgiveness at all, but a simple matter of not being offended too greatly. Forgiveness, I believe, should be a little hard, but it’s worth it.” She smiled. “Anger is the way we hold ourselves captive. Forgiveness is quite liberating.” She was speaking of more than just his relationship with Lucy. She was speaking about himself.
Could Kent forgive his enemies? Could he forgive himself? The former was more likely than the latter.
Mrs. Barton wanted him to try and find Lucy.
He sighed and nodded. “I’ll look for her.” And if he found her, he would ask for her forgiveness. If she told him no, then he would leave her alone. Forever. Technically, she would always be his wife. That bond would remain, but she’d be free to live her life as she wished.
He no longer wished to cage his wife. She deserved to be happy, even if it was not with him.
He left the house, but instead of heading straight to Astlen’s—knowing the men would be there—he went to Anna’s. He was certain Lucy would not be there, yet when he arrived and discovered just how right he was, he couldn’t hide his disappointment.
“She’s likely heading to Portsmouth.” Anna said. “Her family has a house there, in her name. When she came to me months ago, that was her destination.”
Kent knew the house. When he’d decided to begin his study of his wife, he’d been thorough. “Thank you.”
“There is a chance she’ll go somewhere else.” Anna said. “She knows I’d help you.”
Kent thinned his lips. “Why do you help me? Shouldn’t you be on her side?”
Anna smiled. “I am.”
He went to Astlen’s house next but only stayed long enough to give the duke the paper. There was a thrill in the man’s gaze as he read it, but Kent found that he didn’t care what Astlen did with it. He could burn it for all he cared.
It was time Kent stopped letting revenge and anger control him. Otherwise, even if Lucy returned to him, she was likely to leave again.
His carriage set out and he only hoped that Lucy’s would stop at an inn somewhere along the way before going on. If she did, then he’d have a chance to get to her before she went too far.
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 27