“Yes. I thought all was well. I was reading my book…and…and a tragedy happened just outside our door.” Her lips trembled. “Sometimes I wonder what I was doing when Father died. Was I reading a book? Drinking tea? Laughing with my friends, all the while he lay in agony, dying?”
He said nothing.
Unexpected tears slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t want that, Riel. I don’t want the people I love to die, and not be with them!”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!” she gasped, overcome with small, dry sobs. “I think of that poor girl in London. No one knew. She was all alone.” More tears crept down her cheeks.
“Lucy.” His arms closed around her. His strong, steady heart beat beneath her cheek.
She wept, not sure why she felt such agony of soul. “When…when Sophie dies I don’t…don’t want her to be alone!” She hiccupped and burst into fresh tears.
“Lucy.” He held her tighter.
“I don’t want to be alone either, Riel,” she wept. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Lucy, you’re not alone.”
“Not right now, I’m not. But when Sophie leaves… I’m just selfish. I’m so selfish, Riel!”
To her gasp of surprise, he scooped her up into his arms. Frightened, she flung her arms around his neck. But he carried her with ease up the stairs. She felt the broad, powerful strength of him, and the thick muscles rippling beneath his linen shirt. He’d never put his jacket back on. One portion of her mind told her this was inappropriate. She should not be in his arms.
But she felt so safe.
To her further shock, he kicked open the door to her bedchamber and carried her inside. He lowered her to the bed. His brown eyes looked impossibly dark in the dim, flickering light of the candle.
“You are tired, Lucy. You need to rest.”
His face was so near her own that she could touch it, if she had a mind to. She did. As if observing someone else, Lucinda watched her fingers rise and touch his stubbled jaw. It felt prickly and rough. Tentatively, she ran her fingers over it, feeling the texture.
His eyes closed briefly. “Lucy,” he growled. He liked it. She could see he did by his fierce, tortured expression.
Suddenly shocked by her actions, Lucinda snatched her fingers away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Sleep, Lucy.” And then he was gone.
* * * * *
Riel’s response to Lucy’s touch had been visceral and completely inappropriate. He lay awake far into the dark night, trying to force it from his mind.
At dawn, he’d found a thin excuse for it. He’d had little time for female company over the last few years, thanks to his unending responsibilities with the Navy. And he’d had none at all since becoming Lucy’s guardian.
It did not matter. Lucy was his ward, period. The feelings he’d battled all night would die a quick death. Lucy deserved someone far better than he. He would be careful around her now—until all returned to normal.
As the sun crested the horizon, Riel dressed with quick efficiency and thought over Lucy’s emotional outburst, too. He didn’t want to think about Sophie dying, but it was clear his silence about his aunt’s fatal health problems provided little comfort for Lucy. She knew something was terribly wrong. She feared Sophie would die, just like her father had. And so Sophie would, too, but no one knew when.
Pain gripped his heart. He didn’t want Sophie to die, and he certainly didn’t want her to die alone. He felt comforted and grateful that Lucy felt the same way. Coupled with Lucy’s heartfelt cry that she didn’t want to live alone after Sophie left Ravensbrook for Iveny again; Riel saw only one solution to both problems. He would talk to Mr. Chase about it first. Then he would present Lucy with a choice…a chance to take charge of her own destiny. He smiled. She would like that.
* * * * *
By neither word nor action did Riel act like anything untoward had happened between them last night. Lucinda wondered if he had forgotten it, or if he’d dismissed it, thinking she was overwrought and had behaved irrationally. True enough on both counts.
She felt both ashamed and mortified, thinking about the way she had touched his unshaven jaw. The memory still burned into her fingers. She told herself this morning that she was grateful that Riel now treated her with reserved efficiency while footmen loaded the last of the trunks into Sophie’s carriage. Then all three of them, plus Sophie’s maid, settled into Riel’s carriage and they started off. Lucinda would not think too closely on why Riel’s detached politeness bothered her.
After a while, Riel decided to ride outside with the coachman, and then Lucinda was able to relax more fully and chat with Sophie. The carriage seemed bigger without him in it, and the air more easily filled her lungs. As always, he disturbed her, and she was less sure than ever what to do about it.
They arrived at Ravensbrook in the dark, and everyone fell into bed, exhausted. The next day, Sophie’s cough rasped terribly, and she could not get out of bed. Lucinda attended her, frequently popping in and out of her room to help her take sips of tea, to plump her pillows…anything to help ease her discomfort. It wrenched Lucinda’s heart to see Sophie’s dear face blue from the effort of trying to breathe, and to see her lying there looking so frail and weak. It didn’t seem possible that she could gain the strength to overcome the horrible turn in her health, but amazingly, she did. After a few days, she sat up, drank her tea unassisted, and then, with Riel’s help, she spent the mornings in her favorite spot on the terrace.
Relief eased into Lucinda’s heart with each positive stride in Sophie’s recovery. One day before Riel’s scheduled departure, Lucinda found him in the library, frowning over the ledgers.
She hadn’t seen much of him over the last few days, for he’d been riding thither and yon over the entire property, taking matters in hand. He hadn’t been to Ravensbrook since Christmas, and it may be months before he returned again. Clearly, he wanted all to be in order before he left.
“Riel.”
Riel looked up and a faint smile flickered. He rubbed his temple with his thumb. “Sophie is well?”
“She’s fine.” Lucinda came closer and noticed the dark smudges beneath his eyes, and the weary grooves etching the corners of his mouth. “Have you slept?” Then she blushed, realizing how inappropriate the question might sound. “You look tired.”
“I am tired. I leave for my ship tomorrow, and I still have much work to do.”
She moved closer, and noticed the uncharacteristic roundedness of his shoulders, another indicator of his exhaustion. He’d been pushing himself without relief since leaving his ship—at both Iveny and Ravensbrook—to ensure that all was in order. He’d surely driven himself relentlessly on his ship, too. And he’d return to still more work.
“Show me what to do,” she said softly. “I want to help you.”
“You have enough to do with Sophie. I plan to talk to her about hiring a nurse.”
“Don’t. She can’t bear it.”
The dark brown eyes regarded her. “Then all of the work will fall to you and her maid.”
“I know. It’s all right. And she’s fine. I want to help you.”
“Has Mr. Chase been teaching you more of the ledgers?”
“Yes.”
“You have done a good job.”
Pleasure warmed her heart. She moved closer, so now the desk edge bumped into her skirt. Lucinda touched the smooth, polished surface with her fingertips. “I’m ready for more responsibility. Will you give it to me, Riel?”
He pulled the Queen Anne chair close to him. “I have a list I’ve been meaning to go over with you.” When she had settled beside him, his dark gaze pinned hers. “You will see it done?”
“Of course.” She felt a tiny bit offended. “I have more than two thoughts to rub together in my head.”
He smiled. “I know you do. But it’s important a few of these jobs be completed by the end of summer.”
&n
bsp; “All right.” Eagerly, she leaned forward and Riel explained in detail about each of the items on the list. Lucinda made notes so she would remember what he had said. All the while, she felt very aware of his close proximity, and the clean, spicy scent that was uniquely Riel. His tanned fingers moved over the parchment, pointing things out to her. She scanned his face as he spoke, and she realized she was trying to memorize every line, every angle…the exact color of his dark brown eyes…everything about him. Soon he would be gone, and she didn’t know when—or if—she would ever see him again.
The last thought stabbed through her heart. Lucinda knew his work was dangerous. Much as he unsettled and even irked her sometimes, fear twisted in her heart at the thought of him being injured…or dying like her father had done.
Lucinda blinked back hot moisture and bit her lip as Riel finished his list. “Uh huh,” she said, although she hadn’t heard the last words he’d said.
He sent her a sharp look. “So meek, Lucy. So amenable to everything I’ve told you to do.”
Lucinda stared at him, wondering if he meant to vex her. “Have you missed your daily tongue lashing, Mr. Montclair?”
He smiled. “You are wool gathering. I just told you to help Mrs. Beatty wash the dishes each night.”
She gave him a mock glare and quickly wiped away a tear that wobbled over her lid. “I will be glad to see the back of you. You may be sure of that.”
His smile faded. “Lucy…” His gaze followed the bright tear drop shimmering on her finger. More quietly, he said, “Are you crying over me?”
Lucinda stood, and brushed away more irksome tears. “I told you I can’t wait to see the back of you. Why would you ask such a silly question?”
He stood, too. With a rough finger, he lifted her chin up, and his eyes traced the path of her tears. “At last we have peace, Lucy?”
“Until you return and begin bossing me during my next Season,” she managed to retort.
“I will come sooner, if I can.”
She swallowed hard. It would be a long time before she saw him again, and Sophie would leave at the end of October. So long to be alone. Why had she ever wanted to live at Ravensbrook by herself? Yes, she wanted to captain her own destiny, but Lucinda had discovered she did not like living alone. Sophie’s bright presence and Riel’s overwhelming vitality filled every corner of her home. When he was not there, she felt lonelier than she had ever felt before.
“Try not to get yourself killed,” she told him.
“You eagerly await my return, and my unending demands during your Season?”
“I’ll be relieved when I don’t have to worry about you dying anymore.”
“You care, Lucy?”
Her face warmed, but she didn’t look away. “Perhaps. We have become friends, haven’t we, Baron?” A testing of their relationship lived in those words. Also a small admission of how much he meant to her. She could barely admit the full truth to herself.
“Friends.” He smiled a little. “I believe we are that, Lucy.”
Lucinda smiled, but felt it was high time to change the subject. “Sophie is doing better. Do you think it will last?”
He watched her for a minute, as if considering his response.
She stepped back. “Your silence tells me the truth. How long have you known? Why haven’t you told me?”
“Sophie didn’t want to worry you.”
“I’m already worried! I’m not stupid. I can see she’s worse than last year. What is wrong with her?”
“Dropsy.” When she stared at him without comprehension, he elaborated, “Her heart is failing, and is filling with fluid. So are her lungs. It’s only a matter of time.”
Lucinda’s face crumpled. “No!”
“I am sorry.” Pain etched his features. He felt the anguish deeper than she did, of course. It was his beloved aunt, after all.
“I’m so sorry, Riel.” She sat down, her legs feeling shaky. “What can I do for her? Will she go any time?”
“Probably not soon. This winter may be her breaking point. It’s always her worst time.” He lowered his large frame onto the couch beside her. “I have a proposal for you.”
She eyed him uncertainly. Apparently, it must be a request, so she could choose her response. “What is it?”
“I talked to Mr. Chase. He has agreed to keep all of Ravensbrook’s accounts from November through next Season…should you decide to move to Iveny with Sophie in October.”
“I could do that?” Cautious joy filled her. “Sophie wants me to come?”
“It would make her very happy. And me, too, to know you are there to watch over her.”
“But what about Ravensbrook and the staff? Someone must keep watch over its affairs.”
“I think with Mr. Chase, the new accountant he’s hiring, Mrs. Beatty and Wilson working together, Ravensbrook will fare just fine.”
“But it’s for so long… But I don’t want Sophie to be alone, either. I know she has her devoted staff and her friends, but…”
“No family.”
“I’m not exactly family, am I?”
“To Sophie, you are.”
Tears blurred Lucinda’s eyes. “I feel honored that she thinks so.”
“You are wonderful to her, Lucy. She told me you’re like the granddaughter she never had.”
Lucinda swiped the tears from her eyes. “I love her, too.”
“You can give joy to her last months. If you won’t do it for her, do it for me.”
Riel would view it as a personal favor? Of course, Lucinda would move to Iveny for Sophie’s sake alone. But she must explore this interesting avenue just a bit further. “Riel. Are you saying you would owe me? Of course I would do it for Sophie. But if you would be in my debt, too…”
His serious expression relaxed. “Any favor you wish. Just name it, and I will give it to you.”
She smiled. “A valuable commodity. I will hold it until the perfect moment.”
He smiled. “So it is agreed?”
“Of course. Thank you for thinking of it, and for arranging it.”
“You are welcome, Lucy.”
She stared at him for a moment, surprised by their amicable meeting of minds. “I never thought this day would come.”
“That you could talk rationally with me?”
“That we could agree on anything,” she returned with asperity. “Typically, you run over my wishes like a bull in a pottery shop.”
“It is the difference between you waving a white flag or a red flag.”
Surrender, in other words. With a snort of exasperation, Lucinda leaped up. “That has earned you the end of peace, Mr. Montclair!”
He chuckled and rose. “Your father would be proud of you, Lucy. I am proud of you, too.”
Why did his praise warm her from the inside out? Why did she care what this pirate thought of her? And yet she did. She respected him and looked up to him, she realized with a flutter in her spirit.
“I will be in the garden if you have further requests to make of me, Mr. Montclair. Good day.”
His maddening chuckle followed her out.
At last she had voluntarily acquiesced to his wishes. Her wishes too, she was honest enough to admit. Now she could spend the winter with Sophie. Neither of them would be alone. She felt grateful to Riel for arranging that neat solution to both of their problems.
If only her semi-amicable relationship with Riel could last through next Season.
Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely, especially if the rapist wasn’t found. So far, no more crimes had been reported, but the Season wasn’t over yet. One thing was for certain; if the rapist wasn’t caught, and if she knew Riel at all, he would be on full alert next April, and certainly at his most overbearing and obnoxious.
If so, and if she wanted to live her life on her terms, and pursue the young men she wanted to pursue, then she’d definitely have her work cut out for her. Riel would likely become an unmanageable pirate if any suitors came sniffing t
oo closely. That would prove quite unhelpful, for Lucinda felt determined to find a suitable husband next Season. She’d turn twenty soon after. Then Riel could go his way and her life would finally be her own again.
Depression slipped through her. It sounded perfect. The future she had always dreamed about. Then why did she feel so unhappy?
Chapter Fourteen
Much as she told herself she was glad to see him go, Lucinda felt a thick lump in her throat when Riel finally drove off the next morning. No kisses on her hand this time. Just a quick climb into the carriage and he was off. It seemed like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
…Although he had hesitated by the front door and looked down at her for a long, inexplicable moment before leaving. “Goodbye, Lucy,” he’d told her in a faintly rough voice, and then descended the steps to his awaiting carriage.
Ravensbrook seemed empty without Riel. But Lucinda was happy that Sophie continued to feel good—at least, for the most part. Although Riel’s aunt suffered more frequent, intense attacks than last summer, they passed quickly. The warm, unusually dry summer seemed to improve the older woman’s cough.
They talked for hours about possible new plants for the garden, and then Sophie suggested Lucinda might plant a few rose bushes. Lucinda agreed to try one and see how it fared.
One morning, when Sophie felt particularly well, and her cough only occasional, they traveled to the village to choose a rose bush. It was late in the season for planting, but Sophie insisted it would survive just fine.
“Best yet, we’ll see what color the blooms are,” she said happily. Clutching her cane, the two traversed the small rose garden. Sophie lit upon a butter yellow rose.
“It’s perfect!” she cooed. “I have long wished to find one just this shade.”
Lucinda smiled. “Then let’s take it.”
They planted the rosebush with the gardener’s help, and after the first few sickly days, it rallied and burst forth into brilliant blooms. With a gleam in her eye, Sophie proclaimed herself quite satisfied, and Lucinda promised to buy more roses next year.
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