Heart's Desire (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 2)

by Cheryl Holt

  “Yes.”

  “But if you have them, and they have you, who do I have?”

  Matthew frowned. “You still have me, you dunce. You’ll always have me.”

  “We won’t be together anymore. They’ll lure you away.”

  “They never could, and you shouldn’t fret over it.”

  Rafe was glum and morose. He’d observed Matthew and Michael as they interacted, and though Rafe and Matthew were close, Rafe could never bond with Matthew as Michael could.

  It hurt to realize it, and it made him afraid. Matthew had been the center of Rafe’s life, the core that held their universe in place. It seemed as if his brother was already fading away. How could he stop it?

  “I have a confession,” Matthew said.

  “What?”

  “I might not go with you to the army at the moment.”

  The news was like a blow to the gut. “I figured you wouldn’t.”

  “I’m not sufficiently hale to fight and live in rough conditions. And I have to spend some time with Clarissa. I have to mend my relationship with her.”

  “I bet I never see you again.”

  Rafe was being especially petulant, like a toddler who’d been denied a piece of candy. He didn’t want to change their routine. He didn’t want to separate from Matthew. It was too soon; it was too fast.

  “Of course you’ll see me again,” Matthew insisted. “In a few months, I’ll follow you.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll muster out. I can tell you’re thinking about it.”

  “You could muster out too. You could stay with me.”

  “We’re soldiers, Matthew,” he hotly stated. “That’s all we are. That’s all we know.”

  “Could you forgive me if I decided to try another path?”

  “As what? As a husband and farmer?”

  “It wouldn’t kill me to settle down.”

  “It almost did. If Roland Merrick had better aim, you’d be dead.”

  “When I pass away, I intend that it will be in a manner much more dramatic than a shot in the back, fired from a coward’s pistol.”

  They glared, and ultimately Rafe said, “Don’t make me go without you.”

  “It will just be for a little while.”

  “Liar.”

  “It will be all right, Rafe.”

  “I don’t see how. You’ll be here, with your new wife and your new family, and I’ll be off by myself.”

  “You can remain here with me!”

  “Promise you’ll join me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Liar,” Rafe said again.

  He didn’t understand why he was being so surly. He was twenty-two, a man full grown. Surely he could stumble through in the army by himself. He didn’t need Matthew trailing after him like an overbearing nanny. Hadn’t Rafe always chafed at Matthew’s rules and restrictions? Hadn’t Rafe always yearned to do whatever he liked?

  Now was his chance, but he was furious at the prospect of being alone.

  “What about you and Miss Edwards?” Matthew said.

  “You tell me.”

  “You have to marry her, Rafe. You have to.”

  “I’m too young to wed,” he complained. “You’ve constantly told me that. I’m still sowing my wild oats. I’d be an awful husband.”

  “You’ll learn. You’ll be fine.”

  “What if I’m not?”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “Pretty enough,” Rafe grouched, when in fact, he found her to be beautiful.

  “She’s been educated, and she’s pleasant company. If you were bent on ruining somebody, you could have done much worse.”

  “She’s not a duke’s daughter. That’s the sort of bride I was supposed to have.”

  “Well, it’s not happening. You committed a moral lapse and you have to pay the price.”

  “If the end result is that I have to wed a girl I don’t love and barely know, the price seems too high.”

  Matthew snorted and gestured to the closed door. “Find Miss Edwards and bring her here so I can speak with her. Let’s finish this.”

  Rafe was extremely angry, feeling harassed into making choices he didn’t wish to make. He went to the door, yanked it open, and to his dismay Eddie was standing there. She appeared stricken.

  Had she heard them discussing her? Had she heard Rafe’s terrible comments?

  On seeing her, Matthew grumbled, “Dammit.”

  Rafe forced a grin. “Eddie, there you are! I was about to fetch you. Come in, come in. Matthew and I would like to talk to you.”

  “Yes, I thought you might,” she half-heartedly replied. She pushed by him and marched straight over to Matthew. Looking very regal, very grand, she said, “Captain Harlow, you were probably hoping Rafe and I would marry, but I have no desire to be his bride, so please don’t press the issue. I don’t care about him, and I’d rather not be his wife. He’s a libertine and much better off as a bachelor.”

  She dipped a curtsy, spun, and hastened out.

  “Miss Edwards, wait,” Matthew called, as Rafe tried, “Eddie, no don’t leave. I know you don’t mean it.”

  She stopped, but didn’t peek over at him. She stared into the hall. “No, Rafe, I mean it. I should have spoken up earlier. I would only wed for love and affection, and I’d be so unhappy to proceed for any other reason.”

  Without another word, she continued on, and he might have reached out to her, but didn’t. If he could get her to pause, to glance at him, what would he say?

  Her footsteps faded away, and Rafe asked Matthew, “Do you think she heard us talking about her?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  It was Rafe’s turn to mutter, “Dammit.”

  * * * *

  Eddie had never been more mortified.

  She raced out into the garden, running blindly down various paths. Not sure where she was headed, she’d simply like to sprout wings and fly off into the sky.

  As she passed the stables, Clarissa was approaching from the Dower House. She was still possessed of her insane notion to live there—without Captain Harlow.

  Eddie wasn’t positive of all that had occurred between them in London, but she had a fairly good idea. Clarissa’s fury was justified, but the Captain had rescued her, had saved her life. Didn’t that count for anything? Shouldn’t his bravery cancel out the roots of their discord?

  She pretended she didn’t see Clarissa, but Clarissa didn’t realize that Eddie was too distraught to chat.

  “Eddie!” Clarissa called. “Where are you going?”

  Many yards of distance separated them, and tears fell down Eddie’s cheeks. She couldn’t hold them all in, and she swiped at them with her hand. Clarissa walked toward her, but she was too far away to note Eddie’s maudlin mood.

  “Where are you off to in such a rush?” Clarissa asked. “I was hoping you could help me for a bit over at the Dower House.”

  “You’re an absolute idiot to open that house,” Eddie scolded. She hadn’t yet voiced her opinion about it, but there were so many emotions bubbling up inside she couldn’t tamp them down.

  Clarissa stumbled to a halt. “Well. I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Roland and Angela are gone, and they’re never coming back.”

  “You can’t be certain of that.”

  “I’m certain enough. They’re gone, and you’re mistress of Greystone. Move into the Abbey and assume your true role.”

  “I don’t want to have a role. I want some peace and quiet. From now on, I intend to mind my own business.”

  “You have a dashing, handsome husband. Why can’t you be glad about it? You’re so lucky. Stop complaining every two seconds.”

  “It’s complicated, Eddie.”

  “Life is complicated, Clarissa. Get over yourself.”

  Clarissa had finally neared and could see Eddie was crying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Eddie hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about her affection for R
afe, but the servants had probably guessed. The servants always knew everything.

  “I have to tell you a secret,” Eddie said. “You have to promise you won’t tell anybody else. It’s between you and me.”

  “All right. I promise.”

  “I’ve been having a…fling with Rafe Harlow.”

  “Oh, Eddie. I was afraid of that.”

  “But it’s over, and he’s heading back to the army. Yet Captain Harlow has a bee in his bonnet where he insisted Rafe and I should wed first.”

  Clarissa gasped. “How involved were you?”

  “We’re just friends, and I wouldn’t agree if he got down on his knees and begged.”

  “Is there a chance you might be…be…”

  “I’m positive there’s not.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  They had never had such an intimate discussion, and they’d never dare refer to salacious acts or consequences. It simply wasn’t done. And if Eddie was increasing, how would she know? No one had ever explained a single, bloody detail on any carnal topic.

  “If Captain Harlow mentions it to you, I would appreciate it if you’d stick up for me.”

  “I will.”

  “He can be so demanding, but I won’t marry Private Harlow, no matter how the Captain nags.”

  “Yes, yes, I understand,” Clarissa said, but clearly she didn’t. “Is Captain Harlow here at the Abbey?”

  “Yes, he rode in a few hours ago while you were frittering away your time at the Dower House.”

  Clarissa gazed at the Abbey with such undisguised longing that Eddie yearned to shake her.

  “What’s he doing?” Clarissa asked. “Is he busy?”

  “Yes, he’s busy. He dispatched Angela to London where she’ll sail away on a schooner to America. Then he wasted some energy ordering me to wed, but I won’t.”

  “How does he look? Is he well?”

  “He appears fit as a fiddle. He’s bossing and bellowing just like always. Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be by myself.”

  She spun away from Clarissa and headed the direction she’d just come. She went into the house and trudged up the rear stairs.

  With the death of Harold Merrick—her purported guardian—and the absence of Roland who’d taken Harold’s place, she wasn’t sure of her position in the world.

  She was eighteen, and she had her own money. But who controlled it? She certainly didn’t, but she had some stashed under her mattress. She would use it to visit London for a few weeks. Who was there to tell her she couldn’t? She’d stay away until Rafe left. Hopefully Captain Harlow would go too.

  She wouldn’t return until there was no danger of her bumping into them. In the future, she would keep herself apprised as to when Rafe or the Captain might be at Greystone, and she’d travel then too. She’d become a frequent, seasoned traveler, and no doubt on one of her journeys she’d meet a very boring, very ordinary oaf of a boy and marry him.

  She’d have a perfectly boring, ordinary life, would birth perfectly boring, ordinary children. She’d live to a ripe old age and have a perfectly boring, ordinary funeral. Even her gravestone would be boring and ordinary.

  She’d forget all about dashing, charismatic Rafe Harlow and the marvelous experiences she might have had with him.

  She slammed into her bedchamber, eager to pack a bag and depart for London. In a morose state, she marched through the sitting room and into the bedroom. She’d intended to retrieve her trunk that was shoved in a corner, but before she could, Rafe stepped in her way.

  “You’re not welcome in here, Private Harlow. Please leave.”

  “I have to talk to you.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. I heard what I need to know when I was outside the library.”

  “I was having a private conversation with my brother.”

  “Yes, you were, and you were both being very frank.” She batted her lashes. “I’m sorry I’m so far beneath you. Just imagine, if you play your cards right you can land yourself a duke’s daughter! Won’t that be grand!”

  She whipped away to storm out. Was there nowhere she could be alone? Must she be pestered at every turn?

  He grabbed her arm, and though she tried to yank away, he tightened his grip.

  “Stop it, Eddie.”

  “Send me an invitation to your wedding. I won’t shame you by attending, but it will be so exciting. I’ll be on pins and needles, wishing you joy.”

  “Why would you want to marry me?” He was genuinely perplexed.

  “I have no idea. It was a moment of temporary insanity.”

  “No, seriously. Why would you want to?”

  She ceased her struggles and stared up at him. Tears swarmed in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry over him! She would not weep!

  “You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.”

  “What if I wasn’t though? What if I’m very normal and dull? You’ve built up all these wild notions about me being very thrilling. If I wasn’t, you’d be disappointed forever.”

  “I could never be disappointed by you. I would have been happy. We would have been happy. Every day, we would have been! Don’t tell me any differently, because I’ll never believe you.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he suddenly announced, and her heart clenched.

  “So? Bon voyage.”

  “Matthew won’t be joining me. He doesn’t feel hale enough. I doubt he’ll ever return to soldiering.”

  “He’ll resign his commission?”

  “Probably.”

  “That will be a huge change for you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You two have always been together.”

  “He was my only family, and now he has Clarissa. He has Michael Blair and Lady Run. I don’t have anyone, and he doesn’t need me anymore.”

  “Poor, poor you,” she sarcastically said.

  “Come with me.”

  “To where?”

  “To Spain. My regiment is being transferred there.”

  “Spain! Well.”

  She gaped at him, every fiber in her being ordering her to be a typically prim British girl and insist she couldn’t possibly. Yet why would she remain at Greystone? What was there for her at the estate? Would she become a bitter, aging spinster whose one chance had passed her by? Was that the future she envisioned?

  She could see herself, elderly, her face pinched, her attitude caustic and mean. She’d recall how she could have seized the opportunity for an adventure, but had been too afraid. She’d wonder what had ever happened to Rafe Harlow, that dashing boy she’d loved in her youth.

  “I’d travel with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’d be your…what?”

  “You could be whatever you want. We pay women to take care of us, to wash and mend our clothes, to clean and cook our food.”

  “I don’t know how to mend or cook.”

  “You could learn.”

  “I suppose.” She scowled. “Basically, I’d be your personal camp follower.”

  “With privileges.” He raised a sexy brow.

  “What would people say? My reputation wouldn’t survive it.”

  “Where we’re going, the rules are a bit relaxed. But yes, you’d be ruining yourself. You’d never be able to live normally in England.”

  Why would she ever come back? If she spent a few months or years tagging after the army, assisting Rafe and keeping him content, wouldn’t England be too boring?

  She had her money, so she could be an expatriate, could ultimately settle in Paris or Rome. She’d throw grand parties and attend salons with famous artists and writers. After her tedious period as an orphan at Greystone, it sounded heavenly.

  She was eighteen—barely out of the schoolroom—and she was probably too young to make a decision about what he was asking, but she wasn’t about to refuse.

  If she did, she’d never see him again.

  “Captain Harlow wi
ll never let me.” She viewed it as the major obstacle.

  “He doesn’t have any authority over you. He could try to dissuade you, but you don’t have to listen to him.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “The same with Clarissa. She might whine and nag, but she can’t prevent you.”

  “Or I could sneak away without revealing my plans. I could send Clarissa a note after we’re far enough away that the Captain can’t catch us.”

  Rafe beamed with approval. “That’s what I like about you, Eddie. You are always fun and games.”

  “You have to promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “As long as I’m with you, you can’t chase other women.”

  “All right.”

  “If you start in, I’ll leave, and it won’t matter if your laundry needs washing or not.”

  “I can agree to that.”

  “If you meet someone you desire, tell me first, before you hurt me. Tell me and I’ll go—without any scenes.”

  “You don’t trust me very much.”

  “Who would?”

  “What if I change? Might you begin to trust me?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because—if you think I’m an honorable fellow—I might persuade you to wed me someday.”

  “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  “I won’t, but it might be what I want deep down, and I don’t realize it yet.”

  “I heard you with your brother, Rafe.”

  “Maybe I didn’t mean it.”

  She shrugged. “We’ll see, I guess.”

  “I’m betting I surprise you.”

  He swooped in and kissed her, and the embrace was so quick, so disorienting, that she nearly lost her balance. She had to grab onto his coat to keep from falling over.

  Don’t do it, a voice in her head warned. Don’t go with him! It’s madness.

  But she’d been waiting her entire eighteen years for an adventure, for a handsome swain to sweep her off her feet. The man and the chance had finally arrived. How could she ignore what was being offered?

  “I’m departing at dawn,” he said. “You’ll sneak out and join me at the front gate. I’ll bring the horses.”

  “We’ll ride to London?”

  “It would seem suspicious if I try to take a carriage.”

  “We’ll ride then. It’s fine.”

  “You have to travel light—just enough to get you to town. I’ll buy you some things there, but they won’t be fancy. It will be sturdy clothes that are functional and warm, and you’ll always have to travel light with me. Lots of times, we’ll be on the move.”