by Cheryl Holt
" 'Tis I," Lucas responded quietly. "I've brought my lady and her maid," he said cryptically, cutting off the curiosity he knew would spark in his brother when Matthew saw three people approaching instead of two. Lucas lowered the step, helping Penny, then the maid, to climb inside.
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As he made to close the door, Penny leaned into the opening. She extended her hand, and he automatically took it, enfolding it in his own, and he wanted to kick himself at how quickly and easily his body responded to her.
"Are we off to Scotland?" she queried.
"No," he said, realizing she imagined they were taking the lovers' route to Gretna Green, the village just across the border where couples often went to marry when they needed the matter accomplished in haste.
"Then ... where are we headed?"
Lucas could hear her hesitation but also her determination to proceed. She was about to embark on a journey with a man she hardly knew, and she was bravely ready to go forward without so much as knowing their destination. The absolute faith he'd managed to instill in her was a wondrous thing, and he felt like the lowest cad for creating such misplaced trust. "I've taken a house in the country through the summer."
"Oh, how marvelous," she said, and he could tell she was smiling again. "I've always enjoyed the country."
"I thought you might," he said, smiling in return.
"But—" She paused.
"But what?" he prodded lightly.
"When will we marry?" she asked, and he vacillated much too long before answering. It was tricky business, lying and deceiving and trying to appear sincere while doing so. Inside the coach he could feel her maid's ears perk up, waiting for his reply. Into the silence Penny added, "I just thought that we agreed we were in a hurry. To wed, I mean."
"We are," he said, patting the back of her hand, "so I've made arrangements for the wedding to be held just soon as we're settled at the house."
“Excellent,'' she said, greatly relieved. ' 'Will we be traveling far?"
"No, not far." He started to step back, but she tightened her grip.
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"Can you ride with us? I'd like the chance to chat a bit. I've many questions I'd like to ask."
Nothing would be more fantastic—or more horrible—than being trapped with her in the small, enclosed space. She'd laugh and talk, luring him with her charms and causing him to like her more and more. Inquiries would arise about where they were going and what they were doing, and there weren't many explanations he was prepared to give.
The less time they spent together, the better. Opportunities to learn about him or his personal affairs gravely increased the risk. It was best for all concerned if he kept his distance, but, oh, it was tempting to say yes. On this dreary, moist night, facing nothing but dark, empty streets, he'd have loved nothing more than to snuggle next to her on the plush seat. He would smell her perfume and feel their thighs touching. They would sit with their heads together as they whispered confidences and shared the warmth of the coach's interior.
"We'll have plenty of opportunity to talk once we arrive," he said, "but I think for the moment that I'm going to have to walk with the horses. At least until we're farther from the river." Looking around, and meaning it, he said, "I hope the fog will let up as we proceed out of the city."
"It's awfully thick tonight," she agreed, "and there are so many dangers that could be lurking." Her mouth moved close, she whispered for his ear alone. "Be careful for me."
"I will," he said, and something inside his chest swelled and hurt at her words of concern.
They'd tarried long enough, they had to be off, but he couldn't help wanting to steal a kiss, although he didn't dare. The maid, Colette, would certainly expect to witness such an eventuality, but Matthew wouldn't. He was sitting atop, listening to their every word, and while his brother knew of the ruse Lucas had used to get Penny to come along quietly, he didn't know the extent of Lucas's attraction or the depth to which he was willing to stoop in order to keep her happy.
Best not to go down that road when Matthew might hear.
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His younger brother wouldn't hesitate to give him a swift kick in the rear if he decided one was necessary, and Lucas didn't want to have to explain his terrible yearnings for the woman, when he barely understood them himself.
Easing her back into the coach, he regretfully relinquished her hand. "Rest yourself and don't worry about me. I'll be fine.'' He started to step away, then remembered to add,' 'There are blankets under the seat to keep the chill away."
"How sweet of you to worry over our comfort," she said.
Longer than he should have, he stood there, unable actually to see her, but nevertheless extremely reluctant to break the minor contact. There was something so enchanting about being close to her. Eventually he forced himself back, closing and latching the door.
As he moved away, he heard Penny whisper to Colette, "What do you think?"
And he winced when he heard Colette answer, "Do not worry, ma petite. I shall be watching heem very closely."
It was a slow trip out of London. Lucas led the horses for nearly two hours, and the fog eased somewhat as they traveled farther from the Thames. By the time they approached the outskirts of the city, it had dissipated to where he was able to climb onto the box. Still, it was thick enough to warrant extreme caution. What little moon they could infrequently see was only a tiny sliver and provided hardly any light, so the journey was agonizingly deliberate. Dawn was breaking in the east when they finally pulled into the yard of their new home.
With a few hand gestures and signals, Lucas told Matthew that they needed to rush. He wanted the women inside and Matthew gone before the sky grew any lighter. Matthew pulled up to the front entrance, and Lucas jumped down. They hadn't heard a peep from the two women during the long excursion, and occasionally he'd wondered if they were asleep. Or was it something more sinister? Had they changed their minds? Were they thinking they'd made a grave error? Were they already plotting their escape?
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He reached for the door and tugged it open, prepared for anything.
Penny looked out to see Lucas standing there, smiling in welcome. "Have we arrived?" she asked.
"Yes."
She held out her hand, and he grasped it immediately, helping her navigate the two steps. It had been a difficult night, as they'd been jostled and tossed by the rough road in the badly sprung carriage. Her muscles were sore, her back ached, and her head throbbed from listening to Colette's harangue.
The maid had lamented continuously, whispering feverishly about the varying fates that might await them: mat they would be robbed and murdered. Robbed and abandoned. Sold into slavery. Used sexually and discarded.
The woman's imagination knew no bounds, and with each passing hour her dire predictions became more grim, until Penny's resolve had begun to weaken and she'd started to distrust her decision. But as Lucas steadied her feet on solid ground, she looked up at the home he'd found for her, the one where they would begin their life together, and all her fears vanished.
Lucas carried a lamp, which gave off only a tiny glow so she couldn't see much, but she could see enough. It was an admirable house, not big or grand in the fashion to which she was accustomed, but fine just the same. Quaint but comfortable-looking, it was made of a grayish stone and was two stories high, with numerous windows and white trim and shutters. There were window boxes with spring flowers just beginning to bloom, and planters on either side of the door, to welcome those who approached.
The drive was circular and brick, the boundary hedged and offering privacy. Although it was still too dark to see much of the area, she sensed open space and lush greenery. From somewhere off in the distance she thought she could hear the delightful sound of a bubbling brook.
The apprehension that had increased during the lengthy coach ride, which had been urged to the fore by Colette, disappeared
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heryl Holt
like ice on a warm summer's day. She turned to her husband-to-be and said, "It lovely, Lucas. Absolutely perfect."
"Do you really like it?"
"Yes," she said, gazing around, taking it in. "It's exactly the kind of dwelling I'd been hoping you would find for us." It was cozy, inviting, a place where she imagined many generations of happy couples had passed their lives. It offered solace and solitude, was small enough to afford close contact, but the outer property would provide space if one of them felt the need of it as they stumbled through the first steps of growing to know each other better.
All in all, it was ideal for a pair of newlyweds who wanted to start their marriage off properly, and she knew then, without a doubt, that she'd made the right choice by joining her future to Lucas's.
Lucas aided Colette as she maneuvered the steps, then he retrieved their bags and set them down. The driver snapped the reins at the horses, and the carriage lumbered off into the darkness. He headed out to the road, closed the gate, and vanished.
"Is that our carriage?" Penny asked, wondering how they would get to the village and back.
"No," Lucas said, looking at the entrance that now shielded them from the view of passersby. "I haven't had time to purchase transportation for us yet. But I will," he said. "Actually this has all happened so quickly that there are many matters that remain untended. The house isn't in nearly the shape that I'd wished it to be before you arrived. I hope you'll bear with me through these first few days while I get everything arranged to your liking."
"Everything is already arranged to my liking," she said, patting his arm, "and I'll help you with anything that need doing." One of the few lessons she'd been taught by her mother was how to ensure that a household ran smoothly. For the first time, she'd be able to put her tutoring into practice, although on a much smaller scale than she'd ever supposed.
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"I'd appreciate your assistance," Lucas said. "Let's go in, shall we?" Penny slipped her hand into his, and they walked to the door. Colette reached for the two bags, prepared to follow, and he said over his shoulder, "Leave those. I'll come back for them."
Inside, it was cold and dark, the last embers of an evening fire long since burned out. Her first sentiment was one of irritation, that a servant should have kept the room toasty and welcoming for their arrival, that someone should have had the house lit and ready for her inspection. But the minute the notions crossed her mind, she shook them away.
That was her old life. This was her new.
Perhaps Lucas hadn't hired any servants yet. Perhaps he had and they weren't aware they should have been awake for the initial appearance of their new master and mistress. Whatever the situation, there obviously weren't any people about, so they'd have to fend for themselves, which Penny had every intention of doing.
When her first engagement—the one to the marquis—had fallen through, she'd spent months listening to her parents' bombast about how the entire debacle had been her fault. They insisted the marquis decided against marrying her, choosing another instead, because he found Penny too immature, too spoiled and demanding, too difficult to please.
Not this time! she vowed to herself. Never for a moment would she let Lucas know that she was dissatisfied. She was so grateful for her rescue from her marriage to Edward that she was never going to let him perceive any emotions but complacency and appreciation.
Besides, she thought brightly, she could build her own fire. She never had before, but how difficult could it be? The very idea of completing such a task for herself only added to the sense of adventure. She could do it! Colette could teach her how, and how to do many other common duties as well. Penny intended to learn everything necessary in order to make their lives enjoyable.
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At the end of Lucas's day, when he was finished with business, she wanted him to enter a home that was a snug, agreeable residence, one to which he'd long to hasten each evening. When he came through the door, he'd find her content and happy and excited that he'd finally returned.
“What do you think?'' Lucas asked, gesturing with the lamp, and throwing shadows about the walls.
“I think it's charming,'' she said cooperatively just as Colette stepped in behind her.
"It's cold as the dickens in here," Colette muttered irritably, hastening forward and wrapping Penny's cloak more tightly about her shoulders. “What are the servants thinking of, leaving the place like this for my lady?"
Penny flashed her a quelling look as Lucas responded politely. "There's only one woman here, and I didn't know when we'd arrive, so I told her not to wait up." Ignoring the maid, he looked at Penny and said hopefully, "I think we'll manage just this once, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she answered, sending Colette a glare meant to silence and threaten. To her relief, the maid said nothing further, and Penny was able to inspect the furnishings of the front parlor without interruption.
The room was modest and unpretentious, appointed with a matching couch and chair, a colorful rug, a writing desk, and a cheery hearth. There was a painting of the house and yard, a very pleasant rendering, hanging over the fireplace. There appeared to be two or three other rooms on the main floor, but before she had time to look at them, Lucas was saying, "You must be exhausted. Let's get you upstairs to your room, and you can explore in the morning, after you've rested."
"That would be wonderful," she said affably, glaring over her shoulder at Colette and daring her to disagree.
Holding her hand, Lucas led her up the stairs and into the first room on the right. As with the downstairs, it was small but comfortable, containing hardly more than a bed with a thick mattress and a warm quilt, vanity, and wardrobe. Lucas set his
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lamp on the stand next to the bed and lit a second one. Momentarily the room was growing more gay. There was a stove in the corner, with chunks of coal in a bucket on the floor, and Colette set about stalling a fire as Lucas went to retrieve their bags. By the time he returned, the flames in the grate were already chasing the chill.
Lucas scrutinized the bedchamber, making certain everything appeared in order. "I think you have what you need for the time being. Until morning at least."
"Yes, I do."
"Are you hungry?" he asked almost as an afterthought. "I hadn't considered—"
"I'm not hungry," she said, cutting him off. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
Now that they'd arrived and the plan was well and truly in motion, Lucas felt nervous and shy as a schoolboy, and he couldn't resist the comfort he'd find by touching her. He neared and took hold of her hand once more. "I've hired two women from the village. One to cook, one to clean, but they won't be staying at the house. They'll help out during the day but go home to their families at night."
"I'm sure we'll manage," she said, smiling.
"Yes, I'm sure we will. Anyway, there's a servant's room off the kitchen, and they won't be using it, so Miss Colette can have her own room."
"That's very nice," Penny said, "isn't it, Colette?" The maid grumbled something unintelligible, as Penny said by way of clarification, "I imagine she'll stay with me tonight though. Just till we're more familiar with our surroundings."
"I was thinking," Lucas continued, "that if anyone should ask, you might want to say that we've already been married for a time. I don't know how far your father's reach might extend, or where he might search for us, but he'll be looking for a pair of newly weds."
"An excellent idea," she agreed. "How about if I say we've been married for a year."
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"That would be credible. Also, I know that life in the country will be different for you, and you may get bored or lonely, but I don't believe you should go into the village or have callers. At least until we're far enough along that there's no going back. We can't know what your father might be doing."
"I think that's a wise course," she concluded.
He
cleared his throat and inhaled deeply. "There's one other matter."
"What is that?"
"There's someone else in the house whom I want you to meet." She stiffened, and he realized that he'd started it badly. His initial words had sent her imagination flying in all directions. "My nephew," he added hastily. "He's just a boy. Almost five."
"A child?" she reflected, extremely surprised. In all her ruminating about their first months together, there hadn't been any children in the picture, and on such short notice, she couldn't seem to get him to fit anywhere.
"Yes," Lucas said, hurrying to dispel the frown he'd brought to her face. "He's a good lad. Respectful and . . . usually well behaved, but he can be full of a bit of mischief. He was my sister's boy. She died in childbirth, and I've cared for him ever since. He's my own son in every way, and it would mean ever so much to me if you could be kind to him and perhaps take the time to get to know him."
"Certainly, I will," she assented, thinking that her encounters with children had always been extremely limited, so his faith in her ability to interact with the boy was decidedly undeserved. In her world, children were secluded from adults. In fact, when that street urchin had crashed into her the previous day while fleeing from her father's minions, that had been the first time she'd talked with a child in ages. But Lucas wanted her to try to get along with his nephew, and that's what she'd do.
"What's his name?" she asked.
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"Harry," Lucas said. "I know I should have told you before, but there's been so little time for sharing confidences. ..."
"It's all right. Really," she declared, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And the wedding, Lucas? When will that be?"
