by Bold, Diana
“Serenity,” he cried.
As he’d feared, he was met by only silence.
Undaunted, he prowled through the suite, opening doors and screaming her name over and over, until the proprietor banged on the door, demanding to know what was wrong.
He wrenched open the door. “My companion,” he yelled. “When did she leave? Did you see her go?”
The man stepped back, obviously taken aback by Luke’s wild-eyed appearance. “She left just after dawn, my lord. I don’t know where she was going.”
Luke sagged against the doorframe, all the anger leaving him in a rush, replaced by despair. “What time is it now?”
“A bit past noon, my lord.”
“Goddamnit,” he cursed. How had he slept so long? She’d be halfway back to London by now, no doubt. And he had absolutely no idea where to look for her. Now he was missing both a sister and a lover, and he’d never felt so helpless.
“Are you all right, my lord?” the innkeeper asked quietly. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Luke shook his head. “Thank you. I’m fine. Can you send for a hack to take me to the train?”
“Of course, my lord. Right away.” As the man disappeared down the hall, Luke resisted the urge to slam the door, closing it with careful precision.
She’d left him. Snuck out like a thief in the night without a word of explanation, just as she’d done last time. Part of him thought he should probably let her go, but he’d never been one to play it safe. There was more going on here than he knew. Something horrible had happened to the woman he loved. Something so horrible that she’d never quite recovered from it. He wasn’t going to judge her actions today until he knew the reasons behind them.
He had to find out what happened all those years ago in order to fix what was going on now. And the only way he knew to do that, the only lead he had, was his mother.
He grimaced as he packed up his things. He would return to London and speak to his mother. And he had a sinking feeling that it would probably be the last conversation he ever had with her.
“WHY MUST WE STAY HERE? It’s ugly! I don’t like it! I want to go home!”
Roger glowered at his lovely spoiled half-sister, wondering what he’d possibly been thinking when he’d decided to bring Allison with him to Paris. He’d expected her to be fine company during his exile, but she’d done nothing but whine and complain for three solid days. He’d like nothing more than to send her back, but his stepbrothers were probably going mad with worry for her, and that almost made the irritation of having her here worth it.
“Our lodgings are only temporary,” he reminded her for at least the tenth time. “Once my funds are available, we’ll move somewhere much nicer. I promise.”
She glared at him, then flounced over to the lone sofa that their admittedly shabby hotel suite boasted. “You’d better not expect me to put up with this more than another day or two,” she told him darkly, then went back to reading the novel he’d fetched her earlier in the day.
Once she’d quieted, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed half of it, annoyed by the tremble in his hand.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the look Adrian had given him when they’d caught sight of each other in the hallway of that warehouse. If it hadn’t been for the bastard’s wife spilling out of the basement and diverting his attention, Roger knew he’d be a dead man.
In fact, if any of his stepbrothers caught up to him, they’d probably kill him, so he had to come up with a way to destroy them first. As things stood, he’d never be able to return to London, which was unacceptable. His businesses were there. His life was there.
With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, wishing he’d taken care of all three of them back when they’d killed his father. He still couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with it, but no one had believed that such young boys could be responsible for such a heinous act. Ever since, he’d been trying to figure out which one of them had done it, and how. His father had been strong and brutal. It wouldn’t have been easy for one of those little weaklings to push him off that roof.
That was why he’d finally concluded that the three of them must have worked together.
Taking Lucien’s child all those years ago had assuaged some of his fury. Kidnapping Adrian and Morgan’s wives had been an attempt to hurt them the way they’d hurt him, but he’d honestly never meant for either of the women to die. Now that Morgan’s wife was dead, this dangerous game he’d been playing with Adrian for years had intensified to a deadly one.
He finished off his whiskey and poured himself another, full of dark fantasies of revenge.
Chapter Eight
The streetlights were on by the time Serenity trudged wearily up Gemma’s front steps. The day had been endless, and each mile she’d put between herself and Luke had been like a knife through the heart. Yet somehow she’d survived the train ride and the long walk through the city.
That’s what she was, she supposed, a survivor. Even though she’d sometimes like to give up, she kept moving forward, one foot in front of the other. She’d been doing this for so long that she’d forgotten why she bothered. She’d lost all the passion and joy she’d once taken in living until Luke had returned to her.
Pausing upon Gemma’s stoop, she set down her bag and took a few minutes to compose herself, wondering if she had made a horrible mistake by coming here. Gemma was a bit prickly, and they hadn’t hit it off right away all those years ago when she had come to stay at the cottage, but eventually, they’d come to an understanding. Once Gemma had realized how very much in love Serenity and Luke were, she’d been willing to look the other way, and they’d become friends of a sort. The three of them, trapped in a tiny cottage together, had made it an oasis of love and friendship.
When Serenity had been sent away, Gemma had come with her. She’d been her companion during those heartbreaking months that followed, staying with her until Serenity had been pressed into service in Winters’ household. Serenity had been surprised when Gemma had sent her an invitation to have lunch with her a year or so later. Apparently, Gemma had received a small inheritance, which she’d used to purchase her own small home in the city. The two women had stayed in touch, and occasionally Serenity visited with Gemma on her day off.
Serenity had no idea how the other woman would react to finding her upon her doorstep, but she literally had nowhere else to go.
Taking a deep breath, Serenity raised her hand and knocked before she could lose her nerve.
After several moments, Browne, Gemma’s lone servant, opened the door.
“Hello,” Serenity greeted her, trying to smile. “Can you please tell Miss Cross that Miss Pratt is here to see her?”
Browne frowned. “She isn’t expectin’ you.”
Serenity nodded impatiently. “Yes, I know. But it’s very important that I see her.”
“I’ll see if she’s in.” Giving Serenity another imperious, suspicious glare, the woman abruptly shut the door in her face, leaving her standing outside in the gathering dark.
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Serenity wondered what she’d do if Browne didn’t return and let her in. Probably collapse in a miserable heap, she decided, too worn out to even consider trying to find an inn she could afford tonight.
At long last, the door opened, and Gemma herself stood there, looking confused and not altogether pleased. In her early thirties, Gemma was a homely woman with mousy brown hair and an unfortunately large nose. “Miss Pratt,” she said stiffly. “Please, do come in.”
Serenity stepped inside, blinking back a wave of emotion. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. Gemma certainly wouldn’t appreciate such a display.
Once Gemma had led her to the small parlor, Serenity collapsed eagerly in the proffered chair and got straight to the point. “Oh, Gemma. I know it’s very presumptuous of me to come here unannounced, but I’ve been let go from my position and I didn’t know where else to go.”
�
�Let go?” Gemma blinked owlishly behind her large spectacles. “Whatever did you do?”
Serenity flushed and lowered her gaze, staring at the dusty toe of her shoe. “The Earl of Hawkesmere,” she admitted, feeling such a fool. “He showed up at Winters’ home yesterday morning. I hadn’t seen him since I left the country all those years ago. At first, he didn’t recognize me, but when he did... he kissed me, Gemma. Right there in the front hall.”
Gemma made a small choking sound that could have been horror or laughter. “Ah, Serenity. That man will be the death of you, won’t he?”
“I very much fear that you are right,” Serenity agreed, blinking away a new rush of tears.
“So, I suppose you need somewhere to stay?” Gemma surmised.
“Only for a few days,” Serenity hurried to assure her. “Only until I can figure out what to do. I have a little money. I can pay you.”
Gemma shook her head. “I won’t hear of it. I have an extra room, and I could use the company.” She gave Serenity a crooked smile. “Perhaps this time you can be a companion to me, eh?”
“Oh, Gemma,” Serenity murmured, overwhelmed by her friend’s generosity. “I can’t thank you enough.” She was ridiculously happy that her one friend had proven true. She couldn’t have withstood that disappointment on top of everything else.
“Think nothing of it,” Gemma said, leaning down to give her an awkward hug. “Now tell me all about it.”
LUKE ARRIVED BACK AT his London home well after dark, exhausted and heartsick. He wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath, drink some of his finest Scotch, and fall into a dreamless sleep. Perhaps things would look less hopeless in the morning.
However, the moment he entered the house, his butler informed him that his brother, Adrian, waited for him in the greenhouse. The younger man had apparently been there for some time.
With a sigh, Luke shed his coat and unfastened his cravat as he entered the great glass room that was his pride and joy, going to the sideboard to pour them both a drink. The bath and bed would have to wait.
“Did you find her?” Adrian asked, looking up from the grapevine he was trimming as Luke handed him the drink.
“They set sail before I arrived in Dover,” Luke replied wearily, sinking into an elaborate cast iron chair. “I wasted two days on a wild goose chase, when I would have been better served staying here and looking after Morgan. How is he?”
Adrian shook his head morosely and took a drink. “I tried to see him, but he refuses to let me in.”
Morgan had said a lot of horrible things to Adrian the night of Anne’s death, but Luke had hoped the twins had made up by now. Surely, Morgan must realize that Adrian was not the one to blame. Roger had been the one behind Anne’s death. Adrian had done everything he could to save her.
“He’ll come around,” Luke assured him. “Just give him a little time.”
Thank God Adrian had Vanessa, and Gabriel, the little boy they’d adopted, to get him through this. If this rift between the twins had come about before Adrian had married the beautiful actress, Luke would have greatly feared for him. All his life, Adrian had blamed himself for their father’s death. If he’d had to take on the guilt for Anne’s as well, there might have been no saving him.
“Fiona says the baby is doing well,” Adrian continued, obviously striving to find something positive out of the situation. “She’s found a wet nurse for her.”
“Good. That’s good,” Luke said, taking a chair by the fire. He had no reservations about leaving his niece in the redhead’s capable hands. Fiona treated all the children in her care as though they were her own. He took a deep drink, letting the liquid fire burn its way down his gut. “I saw Serenity.”
Adrian choked on his own drink. “What? You saw who?”
“Serenity,” Luke replied, trying to sound casual. “When I went to Roger’s house to find him, she opened the front door. Apparently, she’s been the upstairs maid there all these years. Can you imagine? She’s been right under my nose this entire time.”
Adrian put his drink down and leaned forward, his blue eyes filled with concern. “What happened?”
“I kissed her, of course.” Luke gave a bitter chuckle and took another drink. “The housekeeper fired her then and there, and so I dragged her with me all the way to Dover. Last night, she made love to me, and this morning, I woke alone. She ran away from me again, and I have no fucking idea where’s she’s gone.”
“Well... hell.” Adrian rubbed his hand over the scarred side of his face, shaking his head. “What do you plan to do?”
“I’m going to find her,” Luke said fiercely. “But this couldn’t have happened at a worse time, because first I must find Allison, arrange Anne’s funeral, talk to Mother—”
“What’s Mother got to do with it?” Adrian interrupted, his voice wary. If Luke’s relationship with his mother was strained, Adrian’s was utterly broken. The woman had always treated her youngest son as though his scars made him unworthy of her love.
Had she ever really loved any of them?
“That’s what I need to find out,” Luke said angrily. “Serenity says that Mother was the one who sent her away. She wouldn’t tell me more, but...” He ran a hand through his hair, thinking once again of the faint marks on Serenity’s stomach. “I think she might have been pregnant with my child.” Voicing his deepest fear made the whole thing sound incredibly real. His gut tightened with dread, at the thought that his middle-of-the-night wonderings might have some basis. “She ran away this morning before I could ask her, and I can’t help but wonder... if that’s true, what happened to the child?”
Adrian shook his head sympathetically but thankfully didn’t ask any more questions. “You think Mother knows the answers?”
Luke nodded. “I know she does. But whether she’ll tell me... well, that’s another issue altogether.”
Adrian stood. “I’ll let you get some sleep. You look exhausted. But I’ll return in the morning, and we’ll figure this out. I’ll help you find her, Luke. We’ll find Serenity and Allison both.”
“Thank you,” Luke said. “I hope you’re right.” Deep down, he feared that even if he found Serenity, he’d never convince her to stay.
Chapter Nine
September 1888
“I have to go back to London for a while,” Luke said, looking up from the letter that had come for him earlier in the day. He’d just arrived home from the work site, where the walls of Hawkesmere House were rising like a phoenix from the ashes of his old life. The thought of having to leave, even for a short time, before the roof was on, distressed him.
“What’s wrong?” Serenity asked, coming to sit beside him on the worn sofa. She’d been cooking dinner when he’d arrived, and the smudge of flour on her cheek made him smile a bit as he set the letter aside.
“Boring business matters,” he told her wearily. “Adrian and Morgan have been handling things remarkably well, but there are a few things I have to be there for, and one of them has raised its ugly head.”
She bit her lip, her gaze troubled. “I’ll miss you.”
He reached out and brushed the flour from her cheek, understanding her dismay. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll come back soon, I promise.”
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to—” She broke off and stood as Gemma came into the room. “Well, we’ll talk later. I have to see to dinner.”
As he told Gemma of his plans, he was very aware of Serenity moving around in the kitchen, and he wondered what she’d been meaning to say. For the last few days, she’d seemed a bit troubled, and he worried about leaving her if something was wrong.
“Gemma, you’ll take care of her while I’m gone, won’t you?” he asked suddenly, causing Gemma to look at him strangely. “I don’t think she’s been feeling well, and she’s seemed troubled.” He cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed at making his feelings for Serenity known to someone else but concerned enough not to care. “She means the world to me. Please,
just promise me you’ll send for me if there’s any need.”
“You love her, don’t you?" Gemma said, and the pain in her eyes made him realize that she was the last person he should have asked this of. She obviously did have feelings for him, and he’d just carelessly broken her heart.
“Yes,” he said helplessly. “I’m afraid I do.”
Gemma squared her slim shoulders, clearing her face of emotion. “Of course, I’ll take care of her. That’s my job, isn’t it?”
Before he could say anything else, she stood and went to help Serenity with dinner. He sat there feeling like a heel but uncertain what he could possibly do to mend it.
Dinner was a quiet, strained affair, reminding him of the first one the three of them had shared. He was glad when it was over, and immediately excused himself and went to his room to pack. But as soon as the house had quieted and he knew Gemma was safely ensconced in her room at the end of the hall, he crept next door.
Serenity sat up in bed, reading, but tossed the book aside the moment she saw him, a glad, welcoming smile on her lips. “I’m so glad you came,” she whispered.
“How could I stay away?” he replied, sliding into the bed and gathering her against him. He hugged her tightly and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry I have to go away. I wish I could just stay with you always.”
She pulled away a bit, gazing up at him, her green eyes once again troubled. “I know that you can’t. I know that summer is over and that you’ll soon have to go back to your real life.”
He frowned. “I told you I’ll only be gone for a week or so.”
She looked away, her chin trembling. “I just know that the day you leave and don’t come back is coming soon. I’m trying to prepare myself.”
“What are you talking about? I just told you I never want to leave you.” An edge of irritation crept into his voice, even though he knew this was all his fault. He hadn’t yet told her that he wanted to make their relationship permanent. Of course, she was feeling insecure. But he wasn’t ready to have this conversation yet. He was only leaving for a few days, and there would be plenty of time to talk about the future when he got back.
