The Scoundrel Who Loved Me

by Laura Landon

  Thomas drew in a painful breath. “I’m sorry that my words hurt you. Please know that you are not the reason I think it best that we don’t allow any feelings to develop further. It is me, my lady. It is me. When you regain your sight, I will be the one who is found lacking in your eyes, and I don’t want that day to come.”

  Cleo lowered her head as if she didn’t want him to see the wetness that threatened to spill from her eyes. “As you say,” she said. “Now if you will allow me to sit in private.”

  “Of course.”

  He turned and left.

  She didn’t believe him. He was certain of it. She didn’t believe that he was the one who would be found lacking when her sight returned. She thought it was her. She believed that he didn’t want to live his life with someone who couldn’t see.

  His heart ripped a little with each step he took away from her. He hadn’t hurt this badly since the night of the fire when he’d lost his mother and his father.

  And today he knew he’d lost the one person he wasn’t sure he could live without.

  Chapter Five

  A week had passed since Thomas had been with Cleo. She ate breakfast in her room. When she finished, she and her maid, Mary, would take a walk in the garden, weather permitting. Millie also spent a fair amount of time with Cleo. She even accompanied her on her walks.

  Thomas grilled his sister on what she and Cleo talked about but as expected, Millie didn’t reveal anything personal.

  In the afternoons, Cleo would come to the library and Polly would read to her. At four o’clock the staff would serve tea. Thomas and Barnaby would join them. Those brief visits were the only times during the day that he saw Cleo.

  The first few days were more difficult than he thought they would be. Not seeing her, or talking to her, or hearing her musical laugh directed at something he said caused a void to grow inside him. He thought time would help and he wouldn’t miss her as much as the days went by. But the opposite was true. He missed her more. He found himself unable to lift his eyes from her the short time they were together at tea.

  How had this happened? The misery was mounting daily. And most depressing was that there was nothing he could do about it. The distance growing between them was for the best.

  Thomas rose from the sofa where he sat in the study at Radburn Manor and refilled his glass with more of Radburn’s excellent brandy. It was late and the rest of the house had gone to bed long ago. Sleep was, unfortunately, a long way off.

  Tonight, for some inexplicable reason, the pain in his legs seemed worse than it had been for days. So he stayed up until the brandy took effect and the pain eased. He had no intention of drinking too much. Only enough to dull the pain.

  He wandered back to his chair in front of the fire and sat. Before he’d taken another swallow of his brandy, the door opened and Thomas turned to find Barnaby in the doorway.

  “I hoped to find you here,” Barnaby said as he entered the room. He poured brandy into a glass, then took the chair opposite Thomas.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Barnaby took a sip of his brandy. “Perhaps you can tell me.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do. Millie’s worried about you. She says you don’t smile any more. Even Polly has noticed. And you know how women are. They’re natural born worriers.”

  “Then you can assure them that nothing’s wrong. I simply have a lot on my mind.”

  “What a coincidence. Millie said that’s what Lady Cleora said when she asked her what was troubling her. She seems to have difficulty smiling, too.”

  Thomas ignored Barnaby’s insinuation. He couldn’t imagine that Cleo might miss him. She was the one, after all, who’d made the decision that they avoid each other.

  “Millie mentioned that you were going to Cliffside tomorrow. Would you mind company?”

  “Of course not. Would Millie like to accompany me?”

  “Yes, as well as Lady Cleora and Polly.”

  Thomas turned his gaze to look at Barnaby. “Are you sure Lady Cleora wants to come?”

  “Millie does. And since we can’t leave Lady Cleora here alone, she will have to accompany us. We’ll travel the same as we did the last time. The ladies will ride with you, and I’ll ride guard.”

  “Have you heard from Major Bennett lately? Have they apprehended the man watching Lord Palmerston’s townhouse?”

  “No. The last message I got from Sam said the man hasn’t been seen for several days.”

  “Perhaps he’s given up trying to find Lady Cleora.” Even though Thomas didn’t think that was probable, he hoped that was the case and Cleo was safe.

  Barnaby shook his head. “That’s not likely. What Sam fears is that the killer realizes that Lady Cleora isn’t in London and might be at Palmerston’s country estate. He’s afraid he might be there and has sent several men to watch for him. Hopefully they can apprehend him.”

  Thomas considered what Barnaby said and hoped that was the case. He didn’t want to think that the killer had discovered that Cleo was here. But that was unlikely. Unless the killer had found something when he broke into Palmerston’s townhouse that would lead him here. Or if one of the staff inadvertently let it slip where Lady Cleora was. Or…. There were too many possibilities to consider.

  “Do you intend to leave in the morning, or will you go to Cliffside later?”

  “The morning. I’ve sent word ahead that I would be there in time for lunch. I’ll send someone ahead to tell Cook there will be four more.”

  Barnaby tossed back the remainder of his brandy, then rose. “If by chance the reason you’ve avoided the lady for the last few days has anything to do with your face, Thomas, my advice is to let the lady decide if that is reason enough for the two of you to be miserable for the rest of your lives.”

  Without waiting for Thomas to reply, Barnaby left the room.

  His brother-in-law had no doubt forgotten how Society would react when they saw him. How the ladies would swoon and the men would stare. How could someone as beautiful as Cleo be proud to have someone so grotesque at her side?

  . . .

  Thomas knew Cleo would have been much happier if she could have convinced Millie that she would be all right staying at Radburn House while they visited Cliffside. But neither Barnaby nor Millie would allow it. They’d insisted that Cleo accompany them.

  The only one who wasn’t forced to go was Polly. The gardener had just found the litter of pups they knew a mother dog had hidden. There were six puppies, and no one was able to tear Polly away from them since she’d held the first one.

  So, Thomas had little choice but to sit in the carriage with Cleo directly across from him. He averted his eyes to watch out the window, or to focus on his sister as Millie chatted away. But always his gaze would come back to Cleo.

  It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him. He could see her. He watched her every movement and was struck anew by her feminine gracefulness. He looked at her hands clasped in her lap and remembered the softness of them in his. He studied her lips and remembered the feel of them captured beneath his. By the time they reached Cliffside, he was wound tighter than the strings of a violin.

  “We’re here,” Millie announced to Cleo. “We’ll let you speak with the repairmen, Thomas, and Cleo and I will take a tour of the downstairs rooms. I want to see which rooms are finished. I’ll tell you what colors we decided on for each room, Cleo, and you and I will come up with a name for them. Perhaps we’ll label them by colors. Or perhaps by flowers. Or even by birds.”

  Millie’s silliness brought a smile to Cleo’s face. The first smile Thomas had seen for days.

  “I think I prefer naming them after flowers rather than birds,” Cleo said. “I’d hate to think of calling one of them the Woodpecker room.”

  Thomas smiled. “So would I.”

  The carriage stopped before the front entrance of Cliffside and the door opened. Cliffside’s butler, Duncan, opened t
he door and two footmen came forward to assist them.

  Thomas dismounted first and Barnaby held out his hand for Millie to take. They walked ahead to the manor house. Then, Thomas reached in to take Cleo’s hand in his.

  This was the first time he’d touched her in nearly a week, and it presented him with the expected thrill. With no little effort, he brutally tamped it down and took her hand in his to assist her to the ground. When they reached the steps he stopped. “There are three steps to the portico. Then a few more steps until we enter Cliffside.”

  “I remember,” she said softly.

  He felt chastened. Of course she’d remember. It had only been a week.

  “The entryway is nearly complete,” he said as they walked inside. “Ah, I see they’ve raised the large chandelier that hangs from the second floor ceiling. When I was very little I used to stare at it for hours trying to count each crystal.”

  “How many are there?”

  He huffed. “I never knew. Mother would find me asleep on the grand staircase and shoo me off to the nursery and I’d have to start counting all over again.”

  “The scaffolding is gone,” she remarked.

  “How did you—” he stopped speaking as she cast him a sideways look, her lips cocked in a self-conscious grin. Her observations quite often startled him.

  He chuckled. “Right you are, my lady. The scaffolding is indeed gone. Which means,” he announced as he swept her forward through the grand foyer, “that we can get to the balcony now without breaking our necks.”

  Her appreciative murmur encouraged him to continue their tour.

  “The balcony runs the length of both wings, with our private suites on the east and the west. A child can avoid almost every nanny by taking to the balcony and ducking into any room along the way.”

  They laughed, though not heartily enough for the sound of it to do much other than die rather quickly. He would have expected a witty reply from her, but her easy humor had made itself scarce today.

  “The ballroom is at the top of the stairs and runs along the rear of the house. That room is quite impressive, I must say.”

  “You’ve drawn an excellent picture of it for me, Thomas. Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

  “I’ll escort you to the receiving room. I’m sure Millie will join you shortly, if she isn’t already there.”

  Thomas led Cleo to the receiving room where Millie was waiting for them, then he excused himself to speak with the carpenters.

  He needed to leave. He’d been in Cleo’s company longer today than he had since she’d made the ultimatum that they avoid each other as much as possible. He thought staying away from her for the past week would have eased the pain of being in her presence. But the opposite was true. He hurt more that he imagined he would.

  . . .

  Although Cleo had enjoyed touring Cliffside and helping Millie name each room, she was thankful when it was time to return to Radburn Manor. She could finally escape Thomas’s presence. And it was none too soon. Already she could feel the wall she’d erected around her heart begin to crumble.

  She’d never been with anyone with whom she’d felt more comfortable than Thomas. Never had to fight her desire to join in his conversation more than she had the entire time they were together. Or fight not to let her heart sing just hearing him laugh. Or struggle to hold back her hands so she wouldn’t reach to comfort him when he revealed something special his family had done before his parents’ deaths.

  Cleo closed her eyes and pretended she wanted to rest while the carriage took them back to Radburn House. She had to repeatedly remind herself that Thomas was the one who’d stated that he was not her charming prince. That he wasn’t the man of her dreams. His reason was that she would find him lacking when her sight returned.

  How could he think that? Didn’t he realize that looks meant nothing to her? Or was he not speaking of looks? Had he done something? Something so heinous that—

  No. She knew how Society regarded people based on their looks. Males and females alike were judged on their outward appearance rather than on their intelligence, or their compassion, or their inner strength and abilities. Looks were all that mattered to the members of the ton.

  But they didn’t matter to her.

  Too often, her looks had been all that mattered to the men who’d courted her. Her looks and the dowry that went with her. Thomas was the first man who’d seemed to look beyond her physical appearance to discover what she thought and what was important to her.

  And what he’d revealed in his kiss had led her to discover what truly lay in his heart. By telling her that he wasn’t her prince, he implied that he didn’t care deeply for her. Except his kiss didn’t tell her that. If anything, the passion he showed when he kissed her proved that he cared for her more than he was willing to admit. And because of that, she was more confused than ever.

  Their carriage slowed, then turned down the drive that would take them to Radburn Manor. It was a great relief to Cleo that they were back. She needed to be by herself.

  The carriage stopped and Thomas got out first. Next he helped his sister to the ground, and after that, he took her hand and helped her from the carriage.

  He looped her arm through his and walked with her toward the house.

  Before they reached the bottom step, Barnaby’s voice bellowed from behind them.

  “Down! Get down!”

  The very air was suddenly charged and Cleo wanted to run. But where? How? She felt her body twisting, turning, seeking a direction to flee. Shards of lightning burst behind her eyes, shimmering off to somewhere deep in her brain.

  Time ceased as a muffled pop rang through the air. In the same frozen moment Thomas pushed her to the ground, his reassuring weight coming down heavily over her.

  “Stay down, Cleo,” Thomas whispered and she held herself as still as possible.

  Another shot rang out, this one coming from someone closer to her. She thought it might have come from Barnaby.

  She heard the pounding of footsteps as men rushed past them, shouting.

  Thomas rolled from on top of her and lay on the ground beside her.

  “Are you all right?” His voice sounded strange, as if he had to struggle to get the words out.

  “I’m fine. What was that?”

  He didn’t answer her question, but remained on the ground next to her.

  “Thomas, did someone shoot at us?” That was what it seemed had happened, but Cleo refused to believe it could be possible.

  “Stay down,” he said. “Don’t… move.” His voice seemed weaker, as if he had to force his voice to work.

  “Thomas? What’s wrong, Thomas?” Her hands groped the air, desperate now to find him.

  “Nothing. Everything’s… fine. Stay… down until… Barnaby comes.”

  “Thomas?”

  Silence.

  Cleo stretched her hand and swept the air in wild arcs until she found Thomas’s body. Her fingers traveled up his arm, then to his shoulder. And came away sticky and wet.

  “No!”

  Chapter Six

  Cleo sat in one of the smaller salons in Radburn House with Polly at her side. Cleo tried to be strong for Polly, but it took all her effort to pretend that everything would be all right. That Thomas’s wound wasn’t that severe. But she felt as if she was telling Thomas’s sister a lie.

  Cleo had never… never cursed her blindness like she did now. She knew Thomas had been shot. She’d heard the gunfire. She’d felt his body jerk atop hers. She’d touched the warm wetness of his blood. And she knew the moment he’d lost consciousness.

  The doctor had arrived shortly after they’d carried Thomas to his room. That had been more than an hour ago. It had been quiet since. The only sounds were the rapid footsteps of servants and footmen rushing up and down the stairs obviously carrying more water and supplies that the doctor needed.

  Cleo clutched Polly’s hands in hers and silently prayed.

  “Do you think he’ll di
e?” Polly asked in a choked voice filled with emotion.

  “No, Polly. Thomas won’t die. He’s young and he’s strong. From what he told me, he was hurt much worse in the fire and he survived. He surely won’t allow one little bullet to do what a massive fire could not.”

  “You’re right,” Polly said.

  Cleo heard a little more hopefulness in Polly’s voice.

  “Thomas was hurt much worse then.”

  “Yes, he said the fire burned his back and his legs.”

  “Yes, and his face.”

  Cleo’s world stopped revolving. “His face?”

  “Yes. Half of the right side of his face. He’s terribly embarrassed by it,” Polly continued. “Millie and I tell him it’s not that bad, but he doesn’t believe us. He usually avoids people. You’re the only one he’s allowed near him, but that’s because you can’t—” Polly stopped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “It’s all right, Polly. I know what you meant. He’s only comfortable with me near him because I can’t see his disfigurement.”

  “Yes,” Polly admitted. “I heard Millie tell Barnaby that she thinks he’s avoiding you because he’s afraid your sight will return and you’ll be embarrassed to be seen with him.”

  “I see,” Cleo said.

  “But I wanted to tell them that I knew you wouldn’t. You’re not that kind of person.”

  “Thank you, Polly.”

  “You aren’t, are you? You wouldn’t hate Thomas because of the way he looked, would you?”

  “No, Polly. I wouldn’t.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to say more because a servant entered with a tea tray. She welcomed the tea, and the pastries occupied Polly’s attention for several minutes.

  Cleo recalled the excuse Thomas had given her. “Please know that you are not the reason I think it best that we don’t allow any feelings to develop further. It is me, my lady. It is me. When you regain your sight, I will be the one who is found lacking in your eyes.”

  Tears spilled from Cleo’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. Thomas was scarred and because of those scars he considered himself unlovable.