Realm 06 - A Touch of Love (34 page)

Lucinda asked, “The same cousin who was intended for Lord Hellsman?”

Arabella laughed paradoxically. “Yes, we are all family now. Stranger things could occur, do you not think, Mrs. Warren?”

“And so you mean to leave in the morning?” Law said with disapproval.

Carter had joined his older brother in their father’s study. He and Mrs. Warren had returned to Blake’s Run three days prior, and he had effectively avoided her each of those excruciatingly long days. In fact, when he had received the missive from John Swenton, Carter had secretly celebrated having a legitimate excuse to depart. He required distance between him and the lady. “I am in the midst of several important investigations.”

“And what of the attempts on Mrs. Warren’s life?” Law protested.

“The earl can oversee the lady’s safety.”

Law paced the open area. “I do not like this change of events, Carter. It is uncharacteristic of you to retreat. In fact, I have never known you to walk away from a challenge. What has changed between you and the lady?”

Carter boldly asserted, “You misunderstood my relationship with Mrs. Warren. I have taken on her investigation as a favor to Thornhill.”

His brother sat heavily. “Has the duke designs on the woman?”

Carter shook his head in denial. “Thornhill only affects his duchess.” Even though Carter recognized the impossibility of Brantley Fowler holding an interest in Mrs. Warren, he had difficulty rebuking the idea.

Serious displeasure crossed Law’s countenance. “I have observed the way you look upon the woman.”

Carter fought not to squirm under his brother’s steady gaze. “And how do you suppose I look upon Mrs. Warren?”

“As if you wish to swallow her whole.”

Carter had not slept for four evenings, and his emotions had been wrung dry. His chest hitched as he sucked in a breath. He did not want to leave her. Even with their recent estrangement, he still enjoyed watching her move about a room–hearing the soft timbre of her voice as she spoke to those about her. He had thrived in her presence. When he had held Lucinda Warren in his arms, Carter had known hope. He wanted so much to know love–the same as his friends–but he feared he was not made to give his heart to anyone. “I admit I had thought to pursue a relationship.” He knew he must give Law a justifiable explanation or his brother would not relent. “Yet, in Manchester, when the earl discovered the lady and I had traveled unchaperoned, I did what any gentleman would do. I offered to declare my intentions.”

Law released a low whistle. “What did Mrs. Warren say?”

“No. No. No. The lady made it perfectly clear she held no interest in becoming the mistress of Huntingborne Abbey.”

Law said cautiously, “It was not the most romantic of proposals. From what Arabella has shared, Mrs. Warren’s first joining was a loveless one.”

“I am not in love with the woman,” Carter insisted.

His brother leaned into the chair’s cushions. “Are you certain?”

Carter mustered enough resolve to meet his brother’s searching expression. “Absolutely. I can never love another. Not in that manner. It would be too dangerous. Someone could use the person I affect to reach me.” The women of his acquaintance concentrated their efforts on landing a titled husband. “It would be better if I must marry to seek a political connection, one such as those, which Louisa has suggested. Love would only complicate my desire to succeed Pennington,” He said with little apology, but his mind went to the unmistakable physical reaction he always felt when Lucinda Warren was near.

“As you say, Carter. Perhaps your leaving is best for everyone.”

D
espite his protestations, he had hoped Mrs. Warren would see him off, but only Law and Arabella stood upon the manor’s steps. The memory of her walking with him before Huntingborne’s entrance clung to him with bittersweet longing. It seemed a century prior. Could it only have been a month? “I have asked Mr. Watkins to return the let coach to Kent,” he explained, as his eyes swept each window praying to see her countenance one last time. It pained him to find each one empty. “I have spoken to Charleton, and the earl assures me he has earned Mrs. Warren’s permission to act in her stead. The lady’s uncle appears quite content at having his family restored to him.” A twinge of guilt for failing her shot through Carter.

Law nodded his agreement. “Charleton has expressed similar sentiments to me. He plans to return to Lancashire on Monday.”

Carter spared a swift glance toward the still opened doorway, but he knew she would not come. No other woman had ever affected him as had Lucinda Warren. The idea of how quickly he had come to depend on her scared the wits from Carter. Yet, at the same time, he recognized the perfection of his need for the lady. “Then it is time I am away,” he said reluctantly.

Law extended his hand. “Be safe.” It was what his brother had always said as Carter planned to depart. The familiarity brought another round of regrets.

Bella was more demonstrative in her farewells. “You must write often,” she instructed as she wrapped her arms about his waist. “I am forever fearful. Do not remain away too long,” she whispered. “Worrying is not good for a woman enciente.”

Carter glanced to where Law looked on. His brother’s smile told the truth of Bella’s words. Carter laughed freely. “You must get thee to the dowager
house,” he declared dramatically. “With Louisa in lying in November, Maria in early January, and you in…”

“December,” Lawrence supplied the missing information.

Carter exclaimed enthusiastically, “And you in December, I imagine the baroness has already set sail from Italy.”

Law admitted, “We received a letter before we departed Scotland. Depending upon the weather, Blakehell and mother will return by mid July. I thought it best we return to Blake’s Run and set up house elsewhere before the baron could take up his manipulations.”

Carter nodded earnestly. “Excellent choice. Mother will be distracted with adding to the family, and the baron will be free to amuse himself. Do not permit our father to love you so much he destroys you.”

Law flinched with Carter’s pronouncement, but his brother said, “I have learned my lesson, and if I should slip into my old ways, Arabella has my permission to sharpen her shrewish tongue upon my back side.”

Carter added with a bark of laughter, “I remain your witness, Bella.”

His sister in marriage smiled easily. “I am pleased the Lowery men find me capable of taming the elder.”

Carter looked up to find Mr. Watkins toting a large metal case. “Yes, Watkins.”

“Mrs. Warren’s case, Sir. It be locked in the space beneath the coach’s bench. Thought it best to return it to the lady before I set out for Kent. That is unless ye wish me to send it on with the remainder of the lady’s belongings.”

Carter hesitated an instant. He could use the box, which he recognized as the one holding her father’s papers, as an excuse to see Mrs. Warren again, but the wary expression on his brother’s countenance told Carter not to venture into the fray again. “It appears foolish to ferry the box to Kent only to ship it north again. I am certain Lord Charleton will find room in his carriage for Mrs. Warren’s belongings.”

Law announced, “Mrs. Warren is in the blue drawing room. Ask Mr. Malcolm to show you the way, Watkins.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Carter watched his man disappear into the depths of Blake’s Run. After another awkward pause, he mounted. “I mean to return to Suffolk to recapture the smugglers’ trail, then I am to London.”

“Shall you not call in at Kent?” Arabella asked in concern.

“There is nothing at Huntingborne for me now.”

Lucinda had worked hard not to fidget under her uncle’s steady gaze. Each breath caught in her throat. The familiar call of loneliness had returned. She had wanted nothing more than to beg the baronet to remain at Blake’s Run–for another day–another week. Not to leave until it was necessary for them to part. She could see him in her mind’s eye: the immobile lines of his back–straight and proud and ever so determined. Despite her despondency, one side of her mouth curled into a faint smile.

She forcibly swallowed a pang of regret. “When might we leave for Lancashire?”

“Tomorrow is the Sabbath. Monday will be soon enough,” the earl said easily.

Fighting to quell her heart’s thunder, Lucinda sighed heavily. Dutifully, she reminded herself to count her blessings, but even as she did so her eyes shot to the clock. Surely Sir Carter must have departed. A light tap on the door sent her heart reeling.

“Come,” the earl ordered.

The door opened to reveal Mr. Watkins. “Pardon me, Your Lordship,” he said with an awkward bow. “Mrs. Warren. But I be settin’ out for Kent; yet, ‘fore I do, I thought to bring ye yer box from the coach, Ma’am.”

Never had she felt so alone: The box would be her last excuse to see Sir Carter again. Realizing the earl’s eyes watched her every reaction, Lucinda smiled at the coachman. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Watkins. If you will leave the box on the table, I shall have it delivered to my quarters.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man bowed again. “Hopefully, we will see ye and Master Simon in Kent agin soon, Ma’am.”

Despair slipped over her, and Lucinda tasted bitterness. “I think not, Mr. Watkins. Simon and I will be residing with His Lordship in Lancashire.”

A final bow announced the coachman’s exit. “Of course, Ma’am. Best wishes.” And then he was gone. She regretted his departure for Mr. Watkins
was a man who had placed himself between her and danger simply from loyalty to his master. Lucinda doubted ever to know such allegiance again.

“What is in the box, Lucinda?” the earl asked in curiosity.

She blushed thoroughly. “The colonel’s papers. I managed to retrieve them before I departed Brussels.”

Cautiously, he asked, “What do they contain?”

Her color deepened. “I am sad to say I do not know. I could never muster the courage to read them. My father’s loss was too fresh, and then as time passed, I thought it disrespectful to his memory to read the colonel’s most private thoughts.”

Her uncle ventured, “Perhaps it is time. I cannot imagine Roderick keeping a journal. My brother was not a sentimental man. If Roderick retained only certain items, he deemed them important.” Charleton paused awkwardly. “We could read them together. When the late earl made arrangements for Roderick’s marriage and mine, I lost more than a woman I affected. I lost my brother, the other half of my childhood. If Roderick’s papers, even dull letters of business, can fill in the gap between us, I would relish reading them. That is if you do not think my doing so is too reprehensible.”

She felt the color drain from her face. Lucinda pretended to flick link from her gown. One part of her felt permitting Charleton access to the colonel’s private correspondence was the ultimate betrayal, while another part told her not to offend the man willing to open his home to her and Simon. “If you would not term it as an affront, Sir, perhaps I might read them first before permitting your perusal. It is a duty I should perform on my own.”

The earl swallowed hard, obviously in disappointment. “Of course, my Dear. Whatever you think best.”