Always (ALWAYS trilogy Book 1)

by Cheryl Holt

  He trudged in more slowly, and he came over and plopped down next to her. She glanced at him from her higher perch.

  “What a lovely spot,” she said.

  “It’s quiet,” was his reply. “And isolated.”

  “Considering your aversion to attending Percy’s party, I’m beginning to suspect you don’t like to socialize.”

  He sighed. “It’s odd to be home. Everything seems so…loud, I guess. It will take me time to adapt.”

  She pulled away from the railing and plopped down too, and of course, she ended up much closer to him than she should have been. Their sides were touching all the way down, arms, thighs, feet forged fast. She yearned to ease away and create some space between them, but he’d have noticed and been vastly humored.

  “How long were you away from England?” she asked.

  He pondered, frowning. “Two years? Three?”

  “You were in Africa?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re so lucky. Men can travel and explore and have adventures. We women have to loaf by the fire and darn socks.”

  He tsked. “I wouldn’t describe myself as lucky. Since I barely made it out alive, and I staggered back in such a reduced condition, I don’t exactly view myself as being overly fortunate.”

  There were a dozen chilling hints buried in the comment, and with her usual brash style, she’d have liked to delve into each and every one of them. She just managed to bite her tongue.

  “You always joined Sir Sidney Sinclair’s expeditions, didn’t you? He’s such a famous fellow. What’s he like in person?”

  Her question brought on a potent pause where he carefully weighed his response. Eventually, he said, “He’s not the man he’s painted to be in the stories. I doubt you’d have liked him very much.”

  “And his son, Sebastian? Isn’t he your devoted companion?”

  “He was.”

  She noted he’d used the past tense, and it occurred to her that he was extremely weary, almost as if he was in mourning. What could have happened to leave him so despondent? Was Sir Sidney all right? Was his son? Had there been a catastrophe on the expedition? Could he bear to discuss it?

  She wondered if they’d ever reach a point where she’d feel comfortable inquiring and he would feel comfortable answering.

  He was lost in thought, but whatever had riveted him, he shook it off, his exquisite mouth quirking up in a smile. On seeing it, she blanched.

  “Do you have a sibling?” she asked. “You don’t, do you?”

  “No. I’m an only child. Why?”

  “I have a friend in London. Sarah Robertson? You look just like her. She could be your twin—except she’s blond.”

  At the word twin, he froze, his resemblance to Sarah uncanny.

  “What is your friend Sarah’s position in the world?” he asked. “Is she a fussy debutante like Miss Middleton?”

  “Gad, no. She’s the ultimate do-gooder. She runs an orphanage.”

  “How would you—a ward of the affluent Middleton family—become cordial with such a lowly individual?”

  “She begs for monetary donations at our church. She’s quite shameless about it and really rather pathetic. I like her anyway.”

  “You would,” he scoffed. “I listened to you and Miss Middleton chatting on the verandah.”

  “How horridly rude of you to eavesdrop and to admit it.”

  “I was hoping to catch you gossiping about me. I was absolutely on pins and needles, waiting to hear what you might say, then her mother barged out.”

  “Yes, Florence is a bit of a barger.”

  “What is your opinion? Will Miss Middleton be happy married to my cousin?”

  “Yes,” Nell firmly stated, “and don’t you dare claim she won’t be. I won’t have you denigrating either of them.”

  “Then I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “She’s pretty I guess,” he said, “if you like blond, blue-eyed British girls.”

  The remark rushed through her like a wildfire. Nearly every female in the kingdom was blond and blue-eyed, and Susan was typical, the main distinction being that her wealth added glamour.

  Nell was the one who—with her chestnut curls and big green eyes—was different, and she’d always tucked away a secret pride that she had striking attributes.

  Was Lord Selby slyly telling her he’d noticed the differences? Apparently, she was as vain as the next woman, and she rippled with delight.

  “Why did you come home?” she asked.

  “I was wounded and ill, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “You were wounded? How?”

  “I was stabbed several times.”

  She frowned. “Stabbed! By who?”

  “By a group of natives.” He waved away any further prying. “I don’t want to talk about it. May I not?”

  “No, you don’t have to talk about it.”

  His replies and his depiction of the event were so nonchalant that she couldn’t decide how to process it. Who could be so blasé about being stabbed? And several times? My goodness!

  “Are you all right now?”

  He shrugged. “I’m right enough.”

  “You seem so unhappy. It practically oozes out of you. Is it because of your physical condition? Is that it? Has the stabbing left you morose?”

  He shrugged again. “It’s partially that, but I’ve always been forlorn. It’s never been my nature to be content.”

  “Well, then, I shall have to turn you into a merry person.”

  “I’m afraid it would be a waste of energy.”

  “You don’t know how determined I can be.”

  “I’m betting you can be exhausting when you set your mind to a task.”

  “You’d bet correctly,” she said.

  “Are you usually this dogged or are you simply exhibiting new traits in order to vex me?”

  “It’s a bit of both. I assumed my two weeks at Selby would be boring and stressful, but since I met you, I’ve become certain you’ll enliven my stay. You can’t be gloomy while I’m visiting. I refuse to let you dampen my holiday with a dour attitude.”

  He stared at the manor, which was quite a distance away. The windows were glowing, the chandeliers burning with hundreds of candles. It looked magical, like a mansion in a storybook.

  “It’s difficult for me to be home,” he murmured, and she recognized it to be a painful admission.

  “Why is that?” she gently asked. “You’ve been away for so long. It has to be very dissimilar from your life on the road. Is it hard to adjust now that you’re back?”

  “No. It’s always been hard for me here.” He stared at the house again, the quiet interval full of unspoken anguish, then he snorted with disgust. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m waxing on like a baby. I’m tired and weary, and you’ve specifically requested I not be gloomy in your presence. I apologize.”

  “You can be however you wish in my presence,” she told him. “I’m a good listener, and I’d never blab your secrets.”

  “It’s easy to be around you,” he confessed. “You make me feel better.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She smiled at him, and he smiled too. They shifted toward each other, and they were so close. She could see the moonlight reflected in his beautiful blue eyes.

  When he leaned in and kissed her, she could have claimed she was surprised, but she wasn’t. She held herself very still, allowing every detail of the delicious moment to sink in.

  Much too soon, he drew away. They were frozen in their spots, the wildest energies swirling, as if they might ignite a spark that would incinerate the whole world.

  “That was my very first kiss,” she said. “Here in your gazebo, with you sitting next to me.”

  “Your first, really? How lucky am I to be the one?”

  He dipped in again, and she tarried for a second, their lips connecting another thrilling time, then she jerked a
way and dashed to the other side of the gazebo, to the bench across from him.

  For a long while, they glared, then he said, “I would never deem you to be the squeamish type.”

  “I’m not. I merely think if I permit you to kiss me again, I might never want you to stop, and I don’t suppose that sort of yearning could ever lead me to a good place.”

  “It’s just kissing. There’s no harm in it.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” There were so many unuttered comments flitting between them that she felt dizzy. “I should probably return to the party. I’m sure Susan’s mother has noticed my absence, and I never like to upset her.”

  “Is she a person who angers easily?”

  “Definitely. My mother died when I was twelve, and they took me in when I had nowhere to go. I’m grateful.”

  “But…” he said, the word a question.

  “But…it can be difficult.”

  “Susan is marrying, but you’re not. Do you imagine you’ll ever have the chance yourself?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What will happen to you after the wedding?” he asked. “Without Mr. and Mrs. Middleton needing you to serve as their daughter’s companion, they won’t kick you out on the road?”

  “No.” She scoffed at the very idea. “They can seem pretentious and fussy, but deep down, they’re kind.”

  “I saw Mrs. Middleton on the verandah. I didn’t like her.”

  “Do you like anyone?” she inquired.

  “I like you.”

  She chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

  “You should be.”

  “Honestly! You are so vain.”

  “You’re much prettier than Miss Middleton,” he said. “It must have aggravated her mother to have you in the house. You must have provided a lot of competition for her daughter.”

  “Honestly again! I’m not prettier than Susan. We’re very different, and we’ve never engaged in a stupid competition over it. There’s no reason to compare us.”

  “Then I won’t try.”

  “I might come to live at Selby someday,” she indiscreetly mentioned. If he was against the notion, he could quash it before it became a reality. “Susan might invite me to stay with her.”

  “She’ll be free of her parents, and she’s agreed to rescue you too? That’s big of her.”

  He was so astute, and his level of perception was exhausting.

  “I wouldn’t put it that way,” she was forced to insist. “We’re not escaping her parents. Susan and I would like to be together as we have been for the past decade.”

  “If you’re at Selby, I’d get to socialize with you occasionally.”

  “Yes, you would, you lucky dog.”

  He snorted out one of his rare laughs. “I think I’d like that.”

  “Have you just informed me that you’ll be remaining in England? Will you be constantly around and underfoot?”

  “For now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means for now. I haven’t decided what my future holds, but if you’ll be at Selby to entertain me, I’ll have to consider an extended visit.”

  “I don’t know whether to be excited or alarmed.”

  “You should be both.” He patted the empty spot next to him on the bench. “Why don’t you come back over here and let me kiss you again?”

  At hearing his suggestion, her pulse raced. There might have been a devil perched on her shoulder, and it was shouting, Why not? Why not go over? What could it hurt?

  Her mind was already awhirl with thoughts of how the approaching weeks and months would unfold. She was smitten by him, and of course, he was a famous, infamous fellow. He’d traveled the globe, had explored its hidden corners, had had dangerous adventures and lived to tell about them.

  It was clear too that he was a tormented, lost soul who’d staggered home when he’d desperately needed some care and comfort, and she’d love to furnish them.

  What female wouldn’t be fascinated? What female wouldn’t be caught in his web? Who could resist him? Not her, certainly.

  She had to tread cautiously with him. She was lonely and alone, and she’d never had a handsome man shower her with attention. Florence wasn’t exactly a conscientious chaperone, and she left Nell to her own devices, assuming she would make sensible choices.

  What if Nell was suddenly faced with a choice that wasn’t sensible? What if she wanted to try something reckless, something extreme? Who was there to stop her?

  Disaster loomed as she imagined herself sneaking off with him in the evenings, enjoying sweet, delicious kisses in the secluded gazebo. It would lead to…where?

  The answer to that question was too frightening to contemplate.

  She shook her head. “I better not. I should get back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Would you like me to walk you?”

  “I would like it very much,” she said, “but I believe I should go on my own.”

  She took one last look at him, relishing how he was relaxed on the bench like a lazy king, then she stood.

  “Goodnight, Lord Selby.”

  “Goodnight, Nell.”

  She didn’t scold him for using her Christian name. She just grinned, delighted that he had. She liked that he felt confident doing it, that they were on such familiar terms.

  Then she flitted away before she could irresponsibly convince herself to tarry.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m off to town.”

  Edwina glared at Percy and said, “Absolutely not! We have guests. Susan and her mother are here. There’s another supper this evening.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in plenty of time for it.”

  “How can you guarantee that you will? What if a storm blows in and the roads grow muddy? What if your horse is lamed? No, Percy! You will not embarrass me like this.”

  “Don’t nag, Mother. You know I can’t abide it.”

  He rolled his eyes in that exasperating way he had, and it was all she could do to keep from walking over and shaking him.

  They were in the breakfast parlor, the morning buffet laid out. It was early, and with how late the prior night’s party had concluded, she’d assumed she’d be dining alone. She hadn’t expected to see him up and about.

  “What if Susan asks after you?” she pressed. “What will I tell her?”

  He tsked with annoyance, as if his fiancée’s opinion was of no consequence. “She won’t be up for hours, and when she is, I doubt her first act will be to seek me out. We’re practically strangers. I can’t imagine why she’d want to spend the day with me, for I certainly don’t want to spend it with her. It’s already clear we have naught in common.”

  Edwina blanched and hurried over to close the door, giving them some privacy.

  “Don’t you dare disparage her,” she scolded. “The money isn’t yours yet. You won’t get your hands on it until after the ceremony, and her mother is extremely vain. If she heard you denigrating her daughter, I can’t predict how she might respond. I wouldn’t be surprised if they packed up and went home.”

  “Ha! Her mother can’t wait to have me as her son-in-law. She actually presumes there will be a social advantage for her from Susan’s marrying into our family.”

  “There is,” Edwina fumed, “and I won’t listen to you claiming there’s not. I wish your grandfather was still alive. He’d set you straight about the prominence of our bloodlines.”

  “Yes, that’s definitely what I pray for, that the imperious Godwin Blake was still alive and plaguing me.”

  Her other son—her sane son—Trevor spoke up from the other end of the table. “Percy, stop being a nuisance. With so many guests arriving, and Nathan suddenly appearing, Mother is overwhelmed. Don’t add to her burdens.”

  “She creates her own burdens,” Percy snottily said, which enraged Edwina even more.

  Trevor attempted again to p
lay peacemaker. It was his established role in their pathetic trio. “Can’t you humor her just this once? I’m sure Susan would like you to dote on her. Why don’t you try? You might enjoy it.”

  “You can dote on her for me,” Percy retorted. “You’re adept at entertaining insipid, boring girls. Let your fascinating charm roll right over her. As to myself, I have an appointment, and I’m late for it.”

  “What appointment?” Trevor asked in a taunting tone. “Would you care to explain yourself to us?”

  Percy’s cheeks heated. “No, I would not, and I’m weary of this conversation. Goodbye.”

  He stomped out, leaving Edwina to gape at Trevor. He shrugged, as if to say, You know how aggravating Percy can be. What can we do?

  Both boys were handsome and striking: blond, blue-eyed, tall, and thin. In that, they resembled their deceased father, Harry, who’d been incredibly handsome too. They’d received their attractive looks from him, with Edwina being honest enough to admit she’d never been pretty.

  She hadn’t aged well either. At fifty, she was haggard and gaunt, her hair gray and brittle, her eyes dull and dreary, the bitter effort of struggling through at Selby having taken its toll.

  Her greatest dream had been to flee the horrid estate after Harry died, but she’d been stuck, having to raise her two sons with no funds of her own and no place to go with them.

  She’d endured the solemn decades, reeling under the weight of her father-in-law’s jibes and rebukes. She’d loathed him with a stunning intensity, and she deemed it the ultimate irony that she’d had to stay on at Selby and nurse him during his final illness.

  No one else would have. Everyone had detested him as much as she had, but she had stupidly agreed to tend him in his last hours. In the end, had he been grateful? Had he thanked her for her labors? Had he rewarded her with a bequest in his Will? No, he had not!

  The silence settled, and Trevor said, “Percy certainly traipses off to London an awful lot. Aren’t you curious as to why?”

  “No. You and your brother are adults. I won’t chase after you to check on your every acquaintance and activity.”

  “Do you really suppose he’s ready to be a husband?”

  “No bachelor is ever ready, and he needs the money. The deed is done, the union contracted, the wedding in two weeks. I won’t debate it with you.”