by Laura Landon
Thomas waited for her to answer, and for the first time he noticed the change in her features. The hesitation in her words. She lowered her head as if she didn’t want him to look at her.
“I… that is … My parents were about to leave for London. Father always goes to Town when the House is in session. I didn’t wish to accompany them, for reasons I’m sure you understand. And they didn’t want to leave me alone at Palmerston Manor. My uncle, Major McCormick, is acquainted with both Major Bennett and Lord Barnaby. Major Bennett suggested I accompany him and Lady Claire to Lord Barnaby’s wedding, then stay until the House was no longer in session and my parents returned to the country.”
Thomas watched as she struggled to explain why she was here and thought how much it must distress her to know she was unable to be on her own, shipped around the countryside like a child needing a nursemaid.
“Do you go to London often?” he asked.
“I used to.” She paused. “But not any longer.” She lifted her head and looked at him, even though it was impossible for her to see him. “Will you be going to London when Parliament is in session, my lord?”
“No,” he answered. His father had never failed to take the earldom’s seat, and Thomas had always thought he would play a role in the government, too, once he had become the Earl of Renfrew. But that was before the fire, before his world had changed.
She smiled. “You are not interested in the running of our government?”
Thomas shifted his gaze away from her, even though it was impossible for her to read the expression on his face. “It’s not that,” he admitted. “There’s simply too much to see to here.”
“Yes, Polly told me your home was damaged in the fire in which your mother and father died. I’m so sorry. That has to have been horrid.”
“It certainly hasn’t been easy, but time helps ease the pain. I was more worried over Polly than Millie or myself. We’re older and are better equipped to handle such a loss. But Polly is only eleven. No,” he corrected. “She’s twelve now. Although it doesn’t seem possible an entire year and more has passed since the fire.”
“She tells me you’re making repairs to your home.”
“Slowly, yes. There are workmen there as we speak. I hope to be able to reside at Renfrew Manor by late spring. Polly and I will have imposed on Lord Radburn long enough by then.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”
“He’s been immensely kind,” Thomas agreed. “But he’s married now, too, and I doubt he wants to share his home with his new bride and his neighbors.”
Lady Cleora laughed. The sound moved him in ways for which he wasn’t prepared. It had been so long since he’d heard simple, easy laughter. He didn’t realize how much he missed it. Everything had been less tense and foreboding, though, since the wedding. And having Lady Cleora here certainly made things more enjoyable.
“Perhaps your home will be repaired enough that you can reside there by the time Lord Radburn and his bride return. I understand they will be gone more than two months.”
Thomas nodded. Radburn and his bride were the most fortunate of souls. The earl had been prepared to marry Thomas’s sister for the gallant purpose of protecting her from becoming involved in the scheme of a known brigand. Barnaby had appeared on the scene, sent by Her Majesty to foil an explosive plot. He vanquished the blackguard and captured Millicent’s heart, leaving Radburn free to marry the woman of his own heart’s desire. It was the stuff of which fairy tales were made and it had happened right here in a whirlwind of danger, trickery, deceit and passion.
Mere days later all the ugliness had been swept away in a double wedding that restored harmony to Radburn Manor. Had his own home not burned been burned to the ground at the outset of the chaos, leaving its ugliness permanently etched on his face, Thomas might even have trouble believing it had ever happened.
His cheek muscles twitched, errant nerves still struggling with his own personal aftermath.
“Yes. Hopefully enough progress will have been made on Renfrew Manor that Polly and I can give Lord Radburn back his house when he returns.”
“Perhaps I will be able to go home by then, too.”
“Or perhaps you’ll go to London?”
She tilted her head and stared in his direction. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Surely you don’t intend to confine yourself to the country? Simply because you cannot see, doesn’t mean you cannot hear. There are symphonies to go to. The opera to attend. A thousand musicales to suffer through.”
“Do you enjoy the opera, my lord?”
Thomas tried to keep any hint of emotion from his voice. “Yes, I do. As well as the symphony.”
“Then you must regret the obligations that will keep you here until your manor house is repaired.”
“Yes,” Thomas answered softly. There was nothing he enjoyed more than music. Nothing he loved more than allowing himself to be transported to that ethereal world music created. A world he would rarely be a part of now. “And you? Do you enjoy the opera?”
“Yes, I do. I—”
Lady Cleora stopped mid-sentence when Thomas’s sister, Polly, noisily entered the room. She was bursting with excitement because she’d been sent on a mission she considered to be of importance.
“Thomas, Major Bennett asked me to come sit with Lady Cleora. You are needed in the study.”
“Thank you, Polly,” he said to his sister, then rose. “I’m sure I won’t be long,” he said to Lady Cleora. “Don’t let Polly talk your ears off. She has a tendency to do that,” he teased.
“Oh, Thomas,” Polly cried out. “That’s not true and you know it.”
Thomas gave his sister a roll of his eyes, then left the room. His sister was at that capricious age where it was best that one of them were with her before she spilled all their family escapades. Or even made up some that were even more scandalous.
Thomas walked down the hall until he reached Lord Radburn’s study. When he neared the study a footman opened the door.
“Thomas,” the major and Barnaby greeted. “Come in. Sit down.”
Barnaby poured some brandy into a snifter, then handed it to Thomas when he’d taken his place in an empty chair between the major and his brother-in-law.
“Is something wrong?” Thomas asked after taking a sip of the tepid liquor. The frown on the major’s forehead indicated that there was.
“Yes, Thomas,” the major answered. “I’m afraid there is. Something that involves Lady Cleora.”
Thomas’s arm halted midway to his mouth. “Is she ill?”
The major shook his head. “No, other than that she cannot see. For how long, no one knows.”
Thomas steadied his glass. “She wasn’t born blind?”
“No, no,” the major answered. “It was the devil of a carriage accident, just a year ago now, that killed her maid and left her blind.”
Major Bennett’s words indicated that there was something more to it than just the tale of a tragic event. “Perhaps you’d like to explain,” Thomas said.
“Yes, of course, you couldn’t have known. You see, at that time, Lady Cleora was enjoying her second Season. Now, I’m sure you do know that her father is the Earl of Palmerston. Well, Palmerston’s brother is Major McCormick, who happens to have the ear of the Queen. Lady Cleora was quite sought after, and courted by several of the most eligible bachelors in Society. One of those suitors was Carlson Randolph, the Earl of Shemsfield’s second son.”
“I know him,” Thomas said. “He was a year or two younger than me, but we attended school together. Hopefully he’s outgrown his proclivity for finding trouble.”
“In a manner of speaking, he has,” Barnaby said. “He’s dead.”
Thomas couldn’t hide his surprise. “Dead? How?”
Major Bennett continued. “He was murdered.”
Thomas paused while his mind had time to absorb what Barnaby was saying. “How was Lady Cleora involved in his death?”
Barnaby continued the story. “The gunshot frightened the horse and it bolted with Lady Cleora and her maid inside. The carriage hit a tree and Lady Cleora’s maid was killed. Lady Cleora nearly died, too, but somehow she survived. When she woke, however, she couldn’t see.”
Thomas stretched his legs out in front of him and took another healthy sip of his brandy. He hadn’t mastered the pain from the fire, and occasionally required a glass of brandy to ease his discomfort. Now, he required it to come to terms with what had happened to Lady Cleora.
Since she’d arrived nearly two weeks ago, he’d spent a great deal of time with her. Everyone was so busy with the wedding activities that he’d more or less assumed responsibility for her. It afforded him the opportunity to become more acquainted with her. It also allowed him to avoid being surrounded by strangers.
Although everyone was polite enough not to stare at his disfigurement, neither were they comfortable around him. Assisting Lady Cleora gave him something useful to do. During that time, he’d learned a great deal about her.
He thought her blindness might make her weak, but he’d found the opposite to be true. She possessed an inner strength he found admirable. And where he would expect other females would go into fits of depression and self-pity, she showed a sense of humor that had caused him to smile more than once.
“Was she able to identify the man who killed Randolph?” he asked.
“No. Hence, the problem,” the major said.
Thomas waited for the major to continue.
“Not only can she not identify the man, but the lady doesn’t recall anything other than seeing a black horse. The doctor believes the shock of seeing Randolph killed, as well as the blow to her head, prevents her from remembering the incident. Unfortunately, the man who killed Randolph doesn’t know this.”
“He believes she saw him and can identify him to the authorities.”
The major and Barnaby both nodded.
“She’s in danger,” Thomas added. “That’s the reason she’s here. For us to hide her until the killer is caught.”
The major nodded again. “We thought you needed to know so you could be on the watch for anyone not familiar to the shire.”
“What are the chances her sight will return?”
Major Bennett shrugged his shoulders. “The doctor said it’s possible, but he won’t guarantee she will ever see again.”
Thomas considered what he’d just learned. For the little time he’d known Lady Cleora, he’d allowed himself to let down his guard. He’d fooled himself into believing that it was safe to get close to her because she would never see his deformed face. That she would never be repulsed by the grotesque scars that made him into a freak. But that was no longer the case. There was a possibility that her sight might return. A possibility that she wouldn’t wish to look upon his disfigurement.
The first bit of a wall began to form around his heart. If and when her sight returned, he didn’t want to care a whit about the look of horror he would see on her face.
Chapter Two
Cleora thought she’d feel more alone after the major and Lady Claire left, but she didn’t. Lord Renfrew made an effort every day to make sure she was comfortable, and even took her for a walk through the garden most afternoons when weather permitted—although he seemed a little more distant than he had the days before. Cleo could understand. She was blind, after all, and no titled gentleman wanted to become attached to someone who couldn’t see.
He’d taken on the task of looking after her and was too much of a gentleman to forsake his duties now that he’d found out just how tedious she could be.
Since the day she’d awoken and realized that she was blind, she’d tried to come to terms with what her life would be like now that she couldn’t see. She refused to wallow in self-pity, and tried to make the best of her situation.
The doctors had tried to encourage her with the possibility that she would one day be able to see again, and her mother and father remained confident that it would happen. And perhaps it might. But Cleo was coming to terms with a life of constant disappointment as day after day she eagerly awaited her sight to return… and it didn’t.
She’d decided from the beginning that she would accept what had happened with a positive attitude, and if… if she awoke one day and was able to see, she would celebrate as if her life had started all over again.
Until then, she refused to feel sorry for herself.
She rose from her chair beneath the window where she’d been sitting, and made her way around the room. Her goal was to be able to walk from her bed, to the chair beneath the window, to the writing desk on the opposite side of the room and back to her bed without running into anything, or tripping over something.
She made her way to the chair, then turned when the door opened. “Is that you, Mary?”
“Yes, my lady. I’ve come with your breakfast tray.”
“Oh, thank you. Set it on the desk. I’ll eat there.”
“Yes, my lady. Will there be anything else?”
“No, Mary. That will be all. I’ll call for you when I’m finished.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Cleo waited until she heard the door close behind Mary, then made her way to the desk.
Since she’d lost her sight, she’d found that eating was the most difficult, which was why she always had her meals brought to her room. She refused to eat where anyone could watch her.
She spread marmalade on her toasted bread, then sipped at her tea while she ate the coddled eggs and bacon. She ate slowly, and took care with each bite. There was a knock on the door as she finished eating.
“Mary?”
“Yes, my lady. Lord Renfrew has decided he needs to travel to Cliffside to check on the progress of improvements to his home. He asked if you would like to join him and his sister.”
“Oh, yes,” Cleo said. She was unable to hide her excitement. “Find me a wrap and bonnet, then tell Lord Renfrew I’ll be right down.”
Mary did just that and when Cleo was ready, she led her to the stairs. Mary went ahead to inform Lord Renfrew she was on her way down, and Cleo carefully descended the stairs.
She felt that it had been an eternity since she’d been out of doors and she wanted to skip down the stairs, but she knew better. Taking the stairs too fast would end in disaster.
“My lady,” she heard Lord Renfrew say from a short distance below her. “You have four more steps to take. If you hold out your hand, I will assist you.”
Cleo knew her smile reached from one side of her face to the other. How could it not. The deep, rich sound of his voice sluiced through her like warm caramel, seeping into every crease and crevice.
She tried to envision a face that would match his voice, but it was impossible. All she knew for certain was that he was quite tall and had a muscular build. His height was obvious when she stood next to him, and when she placed her hand on his sleeve, her fingers clasped onto a solid band of muscled hardness. And his grasp when he reached for her wasn’t weak, but the grasp of a man who was confident of his ability.
Cleo reached out her hand, knowing his would be there to steady her.
His fingers wrapped around hers and her heart stuttered with joy. He assisted her to the cool marble of the foyer, then placed her arm atop his.
“I thought perhaps you would enjoy a short drive, my lady.”
“Oh, yes. I look forward to leaving the house. The sun will feel glorious. Please tell me it’s sunny!”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful day for early March. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky so no chance of inclement weather.”
Cleo couldn’
t describe her excitement. Time had moved so slowly since she’d been locked away in her sightless world. She couldn’t wait to have the sun’s rays warm her shoulders.
“Mary, would you tell my sister that if she doesn’t come down immediately, Lady Cleora and I will leave without her?”
“I’m coming, Thomas,” Polly’s voice called from the top of the stairs.
Cleo smiled as she envisioned Thomas’s sister bounding down the steps in the most unladylike fashion.
“Where are Millie and Lord Barnaby?” Polly asked. “I thought they were going with us.”
“They’ve already left. In fact, they’re more than likely there by now, given how long it took you to get ready. And the trees have grown to high heaven and the grass has likely gone to seed.”
“Oh Thomas, you’re awful! I haven’t kept you and Lady Cleora waiting that long.”
“Well, perhaps you haven’t,” Thomas conceded when Cleo brought her hand up to cover the laughter that threatened to escape.
“See how mean he is to me, Cleora?” Polly said.
“I believe your brother enjoys teasing you a great deal,” Cleo answered.
“Do not be fooled, my lady. Miss Polly can give as good as she gets,” Lord Renfrew said with obvious humor in his voice.
“I’m glad I can provide you with such entertainment,” Polly answered in feigned irritation.
Thomas made a clever show of trouncing his laughter and spoke in a grave voice. “Are you ready, my lady? My sister doesn’t seem to want to remain in my company.”
“Yes, but please. I believe it’s time to call me Cleora. Or, if you prefer, Cleo. That’s what my family calls me.”
“Then I’d ask that you call me Thomas. That’s what my family calls me.”
Cleo couldn’t stop a smile from lighting her face. Being on a first name basis brought her a great sense of comfort. Hearing the back and forth banter between Thomas and Polly showed the Earl of Renfrew in a different light than she’d seen him before. And it was a most warm and welcome light.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, I am.”
