Wrapped in Red (Colors of Scandal, #4)

by Sandra Sookoo

  Her lips parted slightly as she stared at him with wide eyes full of surprise. “Yes. We do. Even if...” The delicate tendons of her throat worked with another hard swallow. “Even if the past threatens to pull us down into the depths of despair.”

  Did she wrestle with black thoughts? In that way lay darkness. “Mia, if you’re struggling, please know that I’m here for you. If you wish to talk, even if you’re furious with me... I am familiar with the feelings of being alone.”

  “Oh, I’m certain it will pass. It usually does, though,” she dropped her voice to a mere whisper. “I can’t help but wonder when that cloud of depression will overcome me.” A trace of fear entered her voice and reflected in her eyes.

  “You have known more than your fair share of death; no one will argue with that but keeping those feelings inside to fester and multiply will not bring the loved ones back. They only rot you from the core.” Yes, he was more convinced than ever she had never had a chance to properly mourn. How could she?

  “Oh, Cornelius, if you only knew...” A trace of tears misted her eyes, but she blinked them quickly away and inclined her chin ever so slightly. “I’m so tired of feeling as if doom follows me around. Anyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me has died.”

  “That is the darkness talking, not how life truly is.” He had enough cause to know, and it was dangerous when one sank into that miasma of emotional torment. Without support, one could easily find themselves lost.

  “Except you,” she said in an even lower whisper. “Which is another reason you shouldn’t be here. No matter how I feel about you, you don’t deserve death.”

  His chest tightened with compassion. How, exactly, did she feel about him? Another knot of the mystery he wished to unravel. “Mia...” Before he could say more, the butler returned to the room with a small silver tray resting upon one outstretched hand. A lone envelope sat upon it, stark against the shiny surface.

  “A missive arrived for you, my lord, not ten minutes ago, from London by special courier.” Mr. Jessup offered the tray, curiosity clearly stamped upon his face.

  “Thank you.” Cornelius took the envelope, and when he spied the familiar seal of his superior at the Home Office, he stifled a sigh. Could they not grasp the concept that he’d tendered his resignation in earnest?

  Amelia narrowed her eyes on the letter. “Will you once more succumb to the call of adventure?”

  “I rather doubt it.” So, she was sour regarding his position. Perhaps she’d eat those words when she found out he no longer lived that life. But that was for another time. As he cracked the wax, the butler went around to the other side of the table and held a whispered conversation with Amelia.

  C,

  We have had word you might be in danger. An assassin was captured breaking into your London residence, but the man won’t give up his employer.

  Stay vigilant, for you and I both know it’s much easier for such a thing to happen in the country than it is in the city.

  M

  Bloody hell. Cornelius folded the missive and stuffed it inside his interior jacket pocket. Did that mean every person at Trenton Park was suspect or were they all potential collateral damage because of his connection to the Home Office... and the things he’d done over the course of his career?

  He glanced at Amelia, who was busy with the butler. None of them deserved the intrigue, especially her, and this wouldn’t help his cause should he wish to try and court her properly this time. Could he not live a simple life now that the spy game was beyond him?

  Mr. Jessup straightened, his conversation with her at an end. “Will there be a reply, my lord? The courier is in the kitchens having a brief repast.”

  “No.” Cornelius rose to his feet and grabbed his cane. He needed to think and at the very least, poke about the estate in the event there was something amiss. “If you don’t mind, Lady Amelia, I shall go outside. I find a daily constitutional clears the head when it’s troubled.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, but there were questions in her eyes.

  If the butler nodded any more strenuously, his head would pop off his neck. “The lady also walks the acreage after breakfast each day. Perhaps you could accompany her.”

  Both Cornelius and Amelia protested simultaneously. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I’d hate to intrude into his private time.”

  “Nonsense,” said the maddening servant. “You can both take advantage of the good weather while we have it and scout out sections of the woods with the best greenery.” He beamed as if this was the best idea in the world. “Later, my lady has planned a greenery harvest so we can decorate the halls and rooms with Christmas finery. This works out splendidly.” With a nod, he sailed from the room as if his word had settled the matter.

  Cornelius rather thought having Amelia’s company to himself sounded like a fine idea, but not for worlds would he admit to it. He would go slowly with her, for the morass of thoughts surrounding her had built over the years and wouldn’t become undone in an hour. Plus, her feelings as well as his were equally tangled. They’d both need to determine the lay of the land before going forward. Finally, he found her gaze and held it. “If you don’t mind, I don’t.”

  “I do not.” But she didn’t seem happy about his company if the frown was any indication. “As Mr. Jessup stated, I walk every day. It won’t hurt to have company this time around, as I do have a busy day ahead.” Her words were cold and without the nuance she’d had when she’d discussed various topics with him earlier.

  Why? What the devil did she have to hold against him?

  If anything, she appeared trepidatious. Vowing to do a bit of flirting to see if any of the old feelings between them remained, he smiled. “Shall I wait for you in the entry hall?”

  Chapter Seven

  Devil take Mr. Jessup anyway. Amelia glowered all the way down the stairs after she’d gathered her bonnet, gloves, and a matching cloak made of gray wool trimmed in red. And devil take Cornelius for not objecting more strenuously about joining her on the customary morning walk. And while she was at it, she might as well wish herself to the devil, for being alone in the marquess’ company would sorely tempt her.

  Hadn’t last night shown her she had no control over herself when he was close at hand?

  The heat that simmered between them from the moment she saw him in her parlor was unnerving. In the years they’d been apart, why hadn’t it faded or even died? For heaven’s sake, they’d both married other people in the interim. Surely that was cause enough to forget such an attraction. Yet at the same time, it was deliciously exciting because it hadn’t faded over those years.

  Amelia May, you are a hopeless twit. He’s not good for you.

  When had she ever listened to common sense when Cornelius was involved?

  That made her even more disgruntled with the situation. He’d known her too well and had come close to uncovering truths about her that no one else knew. If she allowed herself to break in front of him, there’d be no coming back, for the locks keeping her own dark secret from him would fly open.

  And he’ll hate me.

  At least if she kept him at arm’s length, he’d never discover what she’d done out of necessity.

  Of course, he was waiting where he said he’d be in the entry hall, tall, proud, and broad-shouldered—the very image of a military man, except for the cane. Yet that accessory did nothing to detract from his looks. Drat the man.

  Thank goodness he didn’t wear a uniform, or she’d do something all too stupid, like try to kiss him. Men in uniform were her weakness; she’d married two of them, for mercy’s sake. And she’d had an affair with him... because she had absolutely no self-control around him.

  Why, oh why did that invisible thread connect them after all these years?

  As Amelia met his storm-tossed gaze, a tremble moved down her spine. No, he was her weakness and always had been. He was a deep infection in her blood that she’d never managed to overcome
. He was the whisper in the dead of night that made her question her own sanity and wonder “what if” all too often.

  I can’t go back. Not after what I did. How would she explain it all these years later that wouldn’t put anger and annoyance in his eyes? She couldn’t bear upsetting him for circumstances that had been out of her control; he had only been partially to blame.

  “I’m glad to see you’re prompt.” The rumble of Cornelius’ voice filled the entry hall and flowed through her in a pleasing tide. At least concentrating on him in the present helped to bury her thoughts of the past.

  “I don’t like dawdling.” Amelia nodded at Mr. Jessup, who scuttled ahead and opened the door. “We shouldn’t be gone more than an hour,” she told the butler.

  He nodded. “There is no hurry, my lady. Your guests will remain abed for some time yet.” Why did he have such a large smile? Perhaps the stress of the house party was getting to him. “I’ll be sure to have a pot of hot tea waiting for you both.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jessup.”

  Cornelius offered her his free arm. “I, too, detest delays and dawdling.”

  “Then we should be off.” After hesitating a few seconds, Amelia slipped her gloved hand through his crooked elbow. She nodded to the butler, and even though butterflies took flight in her belly, she looked forward to the morning’s exercise.

  The moment they stepped outside, she sucked in a sharp breath. The air was winter crisp with no breeze, and the sun had risen to gild the frosty landscape with gold light. Everything sparkled as if sprinkled with millions of tiny diamonds.

  “The advantage to walking in the morning is seeing the world as I think God must have intended.” Amelia couldn’t keep the awe from her voice as their boot soles crunched upon the gravel drive. “Look at the grounds, Cornelius! See how they wink and sparkle as the sun crests those trees.”

  Perhaps things were made even more lovely with him at her side.

  “Even in the worst campaigns of war or in the direst of circumstances I landed in, I never failed to appreciate the beauty in the world around me.” Matching wonder rang in his hushed voice that made her want to smile. His pace was slower than her usual stride due to his slight limp, but she didn’t mind and adjusted. “You must do so in order to keep the dark thoughts at bay.” He didn’t look at her. “When you can counter each negative thread in your mind with a positive one or an item of beauty, you just might find your way through.”

  “And if one doesn’t?”

  “You find someone you trust who will sit with you in the darkness.”

  “Yes.” How odd that he thought along the same lines she did. But how could he know? What demons did he struggle with, and why wouldn’t she share some of hers? Because I don’t know how. I’ve fought this battle by myself for so long I’m protective of it. “Letting death and foul luck consume us does no good for anyone.”

  She said nothing else as they walked, for she was loath to break the tentative peace between them. The strength in his arm beneath her hand only served to remind her of the time they’d spent entwined bed, yet it lent her much needed strength. What would it be like to surrender, if but for a moment, and have him hold her in comfort, to sit with her and let her pour out her thoughts?

  Not until they’d gained the back of the property did she break the silence. “I didn’t invite you to this house party.”

  “I know.”

  “In fact, I’d swear I never wrote the invitation or addressed the envelope.” It was decidedly odd.

  Nothing in his manner betrayed his feelings. “Be that as it may, the letter was in your hand.”

  “Yes, there is no denying that.” But how? Then she shook her head. “Not that it matters. Once I overcame my initial shock of seeing you again, I’m rather... glad you’ve come.” Even if his presence here set her at sixes and sevens. Why couldn’t she reconcile him to the past where he belonged? Perhaps somewhere in her foolish mind she wanted a second chance, to make things right with him, for their last meeting had been swift and built on terrible emotions.

  The rumble of his laughter made itself known in his chest before the sound burst into the winter air. “Well, that is good news.” She turned her head in time to catch the small smile that curved his chiseled lips. “I feared I’d long been consigned to perdition in your mind.”

  “For years I had,” she admitted in a soft voice.

  “Then you’ve forgiven me for merely being the messenger?”

  “For that offense, yes.” She wasn’t strong enough to expand the conversation, for it would mean ripping a scab off her own wounds and she wasn’t ready for that.

  “Fair enough.” He nodded. “Needless to say, that invitation came as a surprise. I never thought I’d hear from you after all these years.”

  “I’ll wager you were. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

  “No, we did not, and I don’t mind telling you, I debated heavily on whether or not to come.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Your cousin convinced me I should. Told me that if he were to spend Christmastide miserable and deflecting your attempts to match him, I should come to witness it.”

  “That sounds like Charles.” She gave into the chuckle that bubbled from her throat. “And yes, it’s no secret I want him to settle down. At least then he might attend to the title properly.”

  “It’s a large task you’ve set yourself. To my estimation, Charles is quite content with his lot.” Gently, Cornelius led her toward the pond and off the worn dirt path. “However, I agree. The best thing for him would be to take a wife and make an honest man of himself. It’s not good for titles or lands to languish. I had to learn that the hard way.”

  The reference once more put her firmly in the past, and there were things that needed said, amends to make. Perhaps it was time to heal some of them. “I’m sorry about your second wife’s death. From all accounts, yours was a whirlwind romance.” She was flirting with disaster, but she was desperate to hear him talk, and she wanted to know more about his history.

  “It hardly seems real at times, but yes. Our courtship was fast. I suppose it had to be, for I was expected back in the field, even if my personal life was a shambles.” He abruptly broke off and remained silent for so long she feared she’d offended him. Then he added, “Coming home that last time opened many truths to me, made me look at my life from a different perspective. I didn’t like what I saw.”

  “It’s a shock, whether the death of a loved one was expected or not.” No doubt his injury was what sent him back to England that final time. “What did you do with yourself once your wife died?” How crass and ugly the question sounded when spoken aloud. “I apologize if it sounds harsh.”

  “Don’t be. It’s merely history now.” Once more he bestowed a tiny smile on her, and that odd frisson of awareness shuttled down her spine again. “I accepted an offer from the Home Office to teach my skills to the younger set. Men my son’s age if you can believe that.”

  “How surprising.” Her eyebrows rose. “Though I feel it’s the perfect position for you.” She squeezed his arm and reveled in the solidness of him beneath her fingertips. “You were always a good teacher.” Of many things.

  “Thank you for the compliment, but it’s not what I want for my life any longer.”

  What did that mean? But her heartbeat accelerated. “How did your son handle everything? From all accounts, he’s come about and is a healthy young man. Rebecca certainly enjoys spending time with him.” In a forgotten corner of her mind, Amelia acknowledged that she’d like for the two to make a go of it. Perhaps, in that way, fate could be corrected in that match where it never was with her and Cornelius.

  Stop that, Amelia. If Rebecca marries the viscount, you will never be rid of his father. Never will you know peace. Or healing.

  And I’ll forever want him...

  “Edward took my wife’s death in stride. He misses her fiercely, but with every year that passes, the grief fades.” He glanced
at her. A trace of sorrow pooled in his stormy gaze. “As for my relationship with him, he and I are... slowly trying to repair things that were broken while I was away.” Unnamed emotion graveled his voice. It made her cling to his arm that much tighter. “I fear I may have mucked up my chances with him though. Too many years spent in service of the Crown have destroyed so much...”

  Did he think of their own failed relationship? How much had he sacrificed for that career, and did he regret it now? Too much a coward to ask, Amelia said instead, “It will all come out right. You’ll see.” Once more, she squeezed his arm. “Edward resembles you. If he’s half the man you are, he’ll see that having a relationship with you, no matter how rocky, is something he needs.”

  Why couldn’t she make the same vow? She pressed her lips together. Because if she opened the door, all the old feelings, the old heat and longing would consume her, and she didn’t want that in her life at this time.

  It’s too dangerous and the risk too great.

  “I appreciate that.” Cornelius brought them to a halt. He stared straight ahead, and his jaw in silhouette was a thing of beauty.

  She wanted to run her fingertips along that rugged outline, brush the shock of chestnut hair from his forehead, tell him that she’d missed him. But she did none of those things; she couldn’t, not if she wished to retain her sanity. There must be distance between them, for where the war had destroyed most of her life, if something were to happen to him... Well, she couldn’t survive that.

  “What of you, Mia? I had assumed you would have had children. You were so excited to perhaps have motherhood ahead of you.”