A little sound of horror escaped her. The pistols were gone. He was going to do something about this Eleanor woman. She just knew it. Deep in her bones, she understood Evan had been saying goodbye to her. What did he intend to do? Kill the husband? And why? This woman had to mean a lot to him for him to want to risk a hanging.
Mrs. Hargreaves came to her side. “The master has taken his guns.”
Lilly nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“He is going to do something foolish?”
She turned to face the thin, dour-faced woman. Though Mrs. Hargreaves had never been particularly warm to her, they had come to a good understanding and she trusted the woman implicitly.
“I think he is going to kill a man.”
The housekeeper nodded. “He was going to help that woman you know—the one who died?”
“How do you know this?”
“I know everything, Miss Claremont. Besides, I have my sources in London. His housekeeper in London, Mary, sends me letters. He was intending to help this woman.”
“Help her? How?”
Mrs. Hargreaves narrowed her gaze before apparently making a decision. “The master aided a woman before. Her husband beat her, and Lord Hawksley helped her escape and sheltered her at the estate in Scotland.”
Lilly pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Evan had helped a woman escape her violent husband? No wonder he wanted it kept silent. If the husband or even the law found out he had interfered in their marriage, the consequences could be dire. But while she understood why he might help a woman in distress, she couldn’t fathom what had driven him to such lengths in the first place. It was certainly a drastic move to smuggle a woman away and risk everything.
Lord, she had misjudged him so terribly. Yes, she knew him better now but to think she had even considered him so callous and cruel even briefly sent a stabbing sensation to her heart. Even the thought that maybe this woman had been his mistress or a lover vanished. Had he not always been brutally honest with her?
She lowered her hand and pondered the empty box. He might die, she realized, or else end up in jail. The pain in her chest increased until she feared she might swoon from it.
“Is all well, Miss Claremont?” Mrs. Hargreaves prodded, grey eyes oddly soft with understanding.
“I must stop him.”
The housekeeper thinned her lips. “He will not be happy to have you involved.”
“I care not. We can’t let him do such a thing. He must not be thinking clearly. If he fears for this other lady too, then he must do nothing. If he is arrested, his actions will come to light and she shall be sent back to her husband.”
Mrs. Hargreaves nodded slowly. “You are right, miss. And I have little desire to see him harmed.”
“Good.” Lilly’s stomach churned. “I shall catch the next train to London. Can you have the carriage made ready please?”
“You must take someone with you. Anne will accompany you.”
She shook her head firmly. “No, if it is dangerous, I shall put no one else in danger. Besides I think I have a better chance of persuading him to return on my own.”
“The master will not be happy that you are out unaccompanied.”
“The master will have to tolerate it.”
Mrs. Hargreaves opened her mouth and closed it again before speaking. “Miss Claremont, should you come to harm, I don’t know how the master shall react.”
Warmth soothed the ache in her heart at the housekeeper’s words. Did she mean Evan had a high regard for her? She could not help but hope so even if it was a fool’s hope. What could come of such feelings? She had around ten months left with him—if he survived his ridiculous plans—and after that, she might never see him again.
She laid a hand over the housekeeper’s, felt her bony hand flinch and offered a smile. “I have little intention of doing anything other than bringing Evan home. All shall be well, I swear.”
The woman’s shoulders softened a little and she offered her a reluctant smile in return. “Let us hope so, miss.
Lilly lifted her hand away and drew herself straight. Nerves thrummed through her at the thought of going to London—a place she had never been—alone. To find a man intent on murder no less. She had little other choice but to go. The alternative was unthinkable. She would not have Evan taken away from her.
***
By late afternoon the train pulled into Paddington Station. Lilly twined her fingers together as it squealed to a stop and steam hissed through the air. The husband and wife opposite her gave her a sympathetic smile. Thankfully they had been kind when she had explained she was travelling to London alone because of a death in the family. She only prayed her lie would not prove prophetic and Evan was yet unharmed. Having never been to London before, she was grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Smythe, who it turned out lived not far from Kensington in the slightly less opulent area, for offering to share their carriage.
Mr. Smythe, a doctor, declared he would not like to see her unaccompanied in London when she didn’t know the city at all. Lilly had hardly considered what might happen when she arrived. She knew only the address of Evan’s residence, but had no idea how to find it. Her original hope had been that she could find a carriage and the driver would know where to go.
Opening the door, Mr. Smythe ushered her out. Lilly took a moment to peer around the vast station. A great glazed roof spanned the station and she gaped up at the wrought iron supports. She had seen the station on postcards and remembered her father speaking of when it had been built, but photos did it little justice.
Around her, people pushed and shoved. Steam escaped from the train, suffusing the air and had Lilly not been filled with nervous energy already, she would have been by now. The noise and bustle, the whistles and hisses and screeches of trains, made her wince. Her eyes had to be as wide as they could go. She shrank back as a group of rough looking men pushed past from third class. How foolish to think she could do this on her own. She didn’t realize how isolated and protected she really had been.
“Shall we, Miss Claremont?” Mrs. Smythe prompted.
She nodded frantically, grateful for the kindly woman’s support. She reminded her of an older version of her mother. Small, pretty, with an expression that invariably spoke of patience. Her grey curls peeked out from under her cap and surrounded flushed cheeks. Lilly had found herself taking to her as soon as she had stepped into the carriage with them.
Following their lead, Lilly pushed through the congested platform until they spilled out onto the street. The noise and commotion was no less here. Carriages crowded the streets and the pavements were busier than she had ever seen in any of the places she had visited. She straightened her shoulders and tried her best to appear as though none of this daunted her, lest she stand out like a stranger. Folks from all walks of life mingled on the streets and some of the fashions she saw rivalled that of even Evan’s sister-in-law.
Mr. Smythe led them to a waiting carriage and aided her in. Once sat, he grinned in her direction. “London is quite something, is it not, Miss Claremont?”
“It is. Do I give myself away?”
“As new to London? A little, my dear, but do not be concerned. There are many newcomers to London every day. You concern yourself with your family and nothing else.”
Guilt pricked at her but she shook it away. If they knew the circumstances, would they be any less sympathetic? They were good people but would likely not wish to share their carriage with a mistress.
“What a shame your mother and father never brought you to London before. It is a fine place for a woman to meet a husband,” Mrs. Smythe commented.
Lilly remained silent, not wishing to dash the woman’s view of her. Little did she know, Lilly’s chances of ever marrying were slim.
The carriage jostled to a start and she turned to peer out of the window. She had never been anywhere like it and everywhere she looked were fascinating buildings and people. She imagined it would take days to explore even half of what
London had to offer. If only she were here under different circumstances.
The carriage came to a stop at the end of a long row of grand houses, all different in style, yet sizeable and imposing.
The doctor popped his head out of the window and ducked back in. “Here we are, Miss Claremont. We’ll not get the carriage up the road I fear. Too much traffic, but this is the street you’re after.” Lilly fished around in her purse to pay her part of the fare but Mr. Smythe waved it away. “We have a daughter close to your age. I would hope someone else would show her some kindness too were she in your position.”
Lilly managed to bite back that she hoped their daughter was never in her position. A fallen woman trying to prevent her lover from murdering someone. It was like something out of a novel.
“I cannot thank you enough. I should have been thoroughly lost had I not met you.”
Mrs. Smythe gave her an indulgent look. “Just be careful now. There are kind folk to be found but a lot of unscrupulous ones reside in London too.”
With a nod and another thank you, Lilly exited the carriage with the help of the driver. He pointed her toward a great red brick house, ignoring her murmured thanks and climbing back onto his seat. Lilly barely avoided being trampled as she made her way across the street. The drivers certainly seemed to be in a hurry.
Clutching her purse tight to her chest, she smiled as a gentleman tipped his hat to her but she felt her lips wobble. Would it be too late? What if Evan was not there? His staff might not allow her entrance to the house. None of them had met her though they likely knew about her thanks to Mrs. Hargreaves. But who was to say they believed her?
Her heart jolted as a familiar figure strode up ahead. Was that Evan? There were so many well-dressed gentlemen here it was hard to tell but she recognized his long-strided walk—one of determination. She clutched her skirts and hurried along but in the confines of her dress, her pace was no match for his.
He turned the corner and her heart climbed into her throat, making breathing difficult. Her ribs pressed urgently against her corset but with nowhere to go, she quickly grew breathless. She would lose him entirely if she was not careful.
She fell into a run—or at least as quick a pace as she could manage. Passersby gave her a startled look and one woman cried out when she accidentally brushed her shoulder. Gaze intent on the corner Evan had disappeared around, Lilly barely gave her a glance and didn’t have time to apologize.
Rounding the corner, Lilly didn’t slow but swung her gaze around. On this street, the houses were close together and the cobbled road was narrower. Several groups of people cluttered the path, forcing her onto the road and nearly into a pile of horse excrement. A little thrill trilled inside her when she spotted Evan’s hat and broad shoulders across the road.
“Evan!” she called, aware her shout garnered many stares. “Evan!” she tried again.
He paused and turned slowly. She saw him scan the crowd and she waved frantically. He looked as though he had not spotted her so she snatched her skirts and hastened across the road, calling his name again.
When she got closer she heard him shout her name and he motioned with his hand. Too late, she realized he was not greeting her but signaling a warning. A carriage bore down on her, the rattle and thud of hooves almost deafening. She squealed and leapt back only to feel the breeze of another carriage behind her. Something caught her and scraped along her back, pulled her to the ground. Disorientated and aching, she found herself facing the cobbles. Her palms stung as she tried to push herself up.
In a trice, Evan was beside her and scooping her up. He carried her quickly to the other side of the road and set her on her feet. Pedestrians gaped but Lilly couldn’t bring herself to care. Her hands trembled as Evan lifted them to study her palms. She saw they were red and bleeding.
“What are you doing here, Lilly?” he asked. His voice sounded thick.
“What?”
“Why are you in London? What in the devil were you thinking?” He turned her around and she felt his fingers on her back. “Your dress is damaged,” he muttered, “but it will not draw attention.”
The touch made her aware of a sharp pain in her back. She fought to focus on his words but her head swam and blood rushed through her body too quickly. It made her legs shaky and her heart beat impossibly fast. She struggled to fill her lungs.
Concern softened his dark eyes as he turned her to face him and he clutched both her arms. “Deep breaths now,” he said softly. “That’s my girl. Let us get you home.”
Home. Funny how the word conjured up the image of Rushbourne House in Oxfordshire and not her mother’s house any longer. And of course, Evan was included in that picture. Sitting at the breakfast table, or lounging back in his office chair, or even sitting by the stream.
One hand to her elbow, he escorted her back to the red house. An older man opened the door and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Have Mary bring up some warm water and tea. This is Miss Claremont and she’s had a shock.”
Evan led her upstairs and settled her on a carved mahogany bed. The furnishings here were grander than at the cottage yet they were also quite old fashioned. Not at all what she imagined. With its austere red curtains and gold flecked wall paper, it had an oppressive feel. The vase of flowers under a glass dome on top of the cast iron fire place did nothing to soften the room. Lilly shuddered but couldn’t be sure whether the decor was the cause. Evan kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his.
A young woman, perhaps only a few years older than her, with dark hair tucked under a cap entered with a tray. She set it on the table next to the bed.
“Do you need any help, my lord?”
“No, I’ll call you if I need anything, thank you, Mary.”
Once the maid had left, he began dabbing at the scratches on her hands. She might have been amused at him playing nursemaid but shock still coursed through her and the cuts stung.
“What were you doing?” he asked. This time his tone brokered no disapproval.
“Trying…” Lilly scowled when her teeth chattered. “Trying to catch up with you. Trying to stop you.”
“Stop me?”
“Yes. Mrs. Hargreaves told me… she told me about what you did for that woman.” His brow furrowed and his expression darkened. “I know about Eleanor. Please, Evan, don’t do anything foolish.”
His lips tightened and he set aside the cloth. “You know then what her husband did to her?”
“Yes.” Lilly wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Then you know that I was the cause of that and I must put it right.”
“No!” She leaned forward and took his hands in hers, ignoring the stinging it caused. “You must not. You are not to blame for his behavior. You cannot control another man’s actions. It’s a horrible, horrible thing to have happened but at least Eleanor knew not all men are like that. At least someone showed her some kindness. Don’t be like her husband.”
She heard his teeth grind and she waited, only the ticking of a clock and her breaths breaking the silence.
“I shall call him out for a duel. There is no dishonor in that.”
“And if you die? Who should continue to help these women? And what of the other lady? If you are dead, she will have lost her protection.”
He stood, tore his hands from hers. She winced and tears welled in her eyes. Pain and frustration filled her. How could he not see how important he was to these women? To… to her? She bit back a sob. It was clear now. She loved him. Maybe she had done for a while, it was hard to tell. But he could not die. Nothing would be more painful than that. Lilly would rather he survived and went on to marry a society lady than die from a gunshot.
Evan closed his eyes briefly, shoulders dropping. When he opened them, he sank back down in front of her.
“Don’t cry, Lilly,” he soothed, hands wrapped around her waist.
She sank into him, allowing him to press his head against her chest. She crad
led him there but couldn’t be sure who was comforting whom. Her heart beat heavily against him and she ran her fingers through his hair over and over, making her wonder when he removed his hat.
“Please don’t do it, Evan,” she begged through a tight throat. More tears welled and this time escaped onto her cheeks.
He sighed audibly. “I will not,” he said against her chest before lifting his gaze to hers and swiping away the tears. “For you, dear Lilly, I will not.”
A bubble of relief escaped her in a nonsensical sound and Evan drew back to fish his handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. He dabbed away the rest of her tears and came to sit on the bed beside her.
“Now don’t be upset.” He put a hand around her and she grimaced as pain speared down her back. He scowled and twisted her so her back was facing him. “That carriage caught you, did it not? Lord, Lilly, you scared me out of my wits. I thought you were going to be trampled in front of me.”
She swallowed hard. The words warmed her regardless of what he really meant. While she loved him, perhaps he only cared for her. She suspected his feelings were stronger than lust now, but it mattered little. Nothing would change between them because her circumstances would never change. Be it weeks or a year, eventually they would part.
“You scared me more. I thought you were going to die or get arrested. I would say we are even.”
Evan muttered a curse and he tugged at her gown. Air breezed over her back and he skimmed his fingers across the sore scratch on her back. “We shall never be even. There is no way you could have been more terrified than I.” Warm lips pressed suddenly to her back and she jolted at the sensation while shivers travelled up and down her body. “No real damage,” he murmured against her skin, “but you shall have a fine bruise.”
His lips continued their path over her skin and he finally worked her dress off her shoulders to press his lips from one shoulder to the other. Lilly’s head lolled back and she surrendered to the delicious heat spearing her core.
She soon found her ordeal forgotten and all the horrors of the day vanished as he helped her remove her clothing and stripped himself of his to join her on the bed. As he pressed her into the blankets and united them as one, Lilly knew nothing would be the same again. This time, for her at least, they were truly making love and she poured her soul into him as they crested. From this day on, her heart would never quite be complete.
Love Regency Style Page 19
