“He must be devastated.”
“Devastated hardly begins to describe Alex’s frame of mind this morning. The poor fellow is beside himself.”
Before she could reply, Douglas pulled her to him in a move so swift she had no time to think. She heard his breath come fast as he buried his face in her hair and whispered, “Ah, Lucinda, if you only knew...” He brushed a kiss against her hair, her forehead, her cheek, and then, as if forcing himself, he drew in a ragged breath and thrust her away. “Goodbye. It’s all about honor, you know. I cannot possibly expose you to our family tragedy.” He heaved a sigh that was almost a shudder. “I must leave quickly else I’ll be tempting fate again.” He turned and was gone.
On her way home, Lucinda felt such desolation she could hardly bear it. Obviously Douglas had feelings for her, yet all the same, he had rejected her. Now she knew why. Not only did a dark cloud hang over his title, she had only to look at the fate of Alex and Alethea to understand why any man of intelligence and good sense, of which Douglas had both, would keep away from her. Far away. But she was hurt, nonetheless. Was it fantasy to think love should always find a way, regardless?
But did Douglas love her? Last night she could have sworn he held a deep affection for her. The problem was, she had nothing to judge by. She’d had many suitors who proclaimed their love, but their shallowness and foppish speech were so different from Douglas’s brusque manner there was no way she could compare. Douglas was his own unique self, a man not to be trifled with, nor even flirted with. Perhaps, if he didn’t have so many demons to fight, she could understand him better. Just now, he had finally opened up to her, revealing his secret, yet he still remained an enigma she couldn’t completely understand. Despite her gloom, she laughed aloud as she pictured Douglas proclaiming his love like those foppish beaus she’d had in the past. Never in a million years! But in Douglas’s case, it wasn’t necessary. What did she care for some silly fop’s insincerity? She would settle for a simple I love you from Douglas, whispered in his own blunt, quiet way.
But he had not said those words.
So what was the use of even dreaming? It was obvious she should not pursue Douglas but just let him go and wipe him completely from her mind. Or at least try.
What a muddle she was in! Lucinda felt a sudden yearning to confide in her sisters. If she did, she knew what Bess would say: be practical, forget Belington. But doubtless Catherine would say: If you love him, go after him, dear sister. Forget what others think you should do, follow your heart.
But how could she? If she had the sense of a goose, she knew whose advice she should follow.
* * *
During the next few days, Lucinda remained heavy-hearted, discouraged, and utterly defeated. Aside from spending time with her aunt, she stayed mostly in her room, sketching a little, reading, but mainly gazing out the window in the direction of Ravensbrook Manor, and, despite her resolution to wipe him from her mind, thinking of Douglas.
So this was love. She remembered Catherine once telling her that she knew she was in love with Robert when she started thinking of him every minute of the day. But her sister’s romance had a happy ending, Lucinda thought forlornly, as opposed to her own.
You must stop this moping about him, she would tell herself sternly. Tomorrow she would pull herself together-wipe all thoughts of Douglas from her mind—go bird watching in the woods—take the curricle into York and go visiting. But when tomorrow came, she was still moping.
A week had passed since Douglas left. Lucinda was in her bed chamber when the butler announced that her father had arrived and was awaiting her attendance in the small salon.
Papa! Her heart lifted. In a twinkling she raced down the stairs and flung herself into her father’s arms. “It’s so good to see you,” she cried. A thought struck her and she pulled away with a frown. “Did Cousin Edgerton send for you?”
“No, my dear. I sensed something was wrong from your last few letters. That’s why I’m here.” Her father smiled that beautiful, saintly smile of his that always warmed her heart. “Now, come, let us sit down and you can tell me what’s wrong. Do you want to come home, is that it?”
How comforting to have him here. What a relief to pour her heart out. Lucinda told him everything—the sad story of Alex and Alethea, Edgerton’s continual cruelty, and Douglas—well, she did not tell Papa everything about Douglas, but enough. She also mentioned her suspicions about what really happened the day of the tragedy. “Edgerton lied, Papa, I’m almost sure of it. Still, I have no way of knowing what really took place that day.”
Papa listened attentively. When she finished, he asked, “Do you love him?”
“Yes,” she replied, “but it’s hopeless, what with the animosity that exists between the Linleys and the Belingtons. I must admit, after the awful thing Edgerton did to Alex and Alethea, Douglas was right to back away. I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t help. Papa, I am simply miserable, and I don’t know what to do. Do you think I should come home?”
Papa took a few moments to ponder, just as he usually did when confronted with one or another of his daughters’ weighty problems. Finally, to her surprise, he asked, “Daughter, what is wrong with you? Did you not dream all your life of falling in love? Did you not declare that you would never settle for a husband you didn’t love?”
“That I did. And as I’m sure you recall, in the end, I did refuse old Whittlesby.”
Papa laughed. “You were right about him and right to say no. You see? You, with all your fine stubbornness always know the right thing to do. That’s why I’m surprised at you now.”
“But I don’t always know. I’m floundering. I’ve lost all my confidence.”
Papa said earnestly, “But that should never happen to you. Above all my daughters, you’ve been the strong one, the smartest, the most reliable. How you could doubt yourself is beyond me. Your fine instincts have always been your best guide. Don’t let them fail you now.”
She smiled gratefully, beginning to feel better. “You never told me this before.”
“Perhaps I should have. I cannot tell you the number of times I have heard, ‘Papa, what shall I do?’ from your sisters, but never from you. Decisive is the word that describes you, my dear, along with loyal and resilient. I have never heard you whine, unlike...well, you see my meaning. I have never known you not to finish what you started. You have always had a purpose. That’s why I am somewhat surprised to see you casting around in this maelstrom of indecision.” He cast her a meaningful gaze. “This is not like you, Lucinda.”
She nodded reluctantly. “I suppose that’s very true. I have always known what I wanted and what I didn’t want.”
“And never hesitated to say so,” Papa added with a smile. “So if you think you love Lord Belington, and you’re aware of certain facts which might assuage his family’s scandal...”
“Then I should not ignore those facts,” finished Lucinda, feeling as if she had just had a revelation. “Of course I shall not, and I shall act upon what I know. Oh, Papa, you’ve guessed it exactly. I’ve been sitting around pining and moping when instead I should have been doing everything I could to prove Gregory innocent, and thus save his family’s honor.”
Papa nodded wisely. “And if your Lord Belington is worth his salt, I wager he’ll be taking some action, too.”
“That is, if he loves me.”
Papa cast her a look full of pride and fatherly affection. “How could he not?”
Lucinda returned a small grimace. “Thanks, but don’t you think you’re a wee bit prejudiced? I’m sure Douglas cares for me, or at least he did. But he had sense enough to realize ours was an alliance that would never work. Who knows?”—she gave a grim little laugh—”he may have found someone else by now and forgotten all about me.”
Papa patted her hand reassuringly. “Love always finds a way. Look at your mother and me. Did you know her parents thought her much too good for me? She was, of course, but I persisted and she was
foolish enough to marry me anyway.”
Lucinda answered wistfully, “If I could have a marriage half as good as yours and Mama’s I should be content the rest of my life.”
* * *
In his London lodgings, Douglas sank into a chair by Alex’s bedside and wearily rested his chin in his hand while he regarded his sleeping brother.
Alex opened his eyes. He shifted his position and winced with pain.
Douglas asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be all right. It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s Alethea. My God, I hate to think what she’s going through.” His fist clenched, Alex pounded on the counterpane and cried, “We must do something!” He made an attempt to rise from the bed, but Douglas pushed him back, an easy task since Alex was still weak from the pain and loss of blood.
“You’re going nowhere, Alex, not until you heal.”
Alex sank back, his face a ghastly white. “Edgerton deliberately shot me. I still say the man should be arrested.”
“No chance of that, I’m afraid.” Douglas shook his head regretfully. “I could have called the constable, but you know as well as I, the fellow prefers hunting foxes over chasing villains. And besides, to all appearances, who would have right on their side? Edgerton would no doubt claim you were kidnapping his daughter. What chance would you have had then?”
“What shall we do?” Alex asked in a shaky whisper.
“Rest. We shall do nothing at the moment. When you’re well, we’ll have a plan.”
What plan? Douglas wondered after Alex fell into a fitful sleep. Damnation! Alex...Lucinda...never in his well-ordered life had things gone so wrong. Never had he felt so...he supposed desolate was the word, or could the word be heartsick? The vision of Lucinda that had haunted him ever since that night danced before his eyes. She was in his arms again, her soft voice whispering, stop talking and kiss me. Ah, he must force himself to stop thinking about her because every time he did a lustful yearning shot through him such as he had never felt for any woman before. For the first time in days he thought of Rose. She would be wondering what had happened to him. He must be fair and go see her, and tell her...
He could hardly believe what he was about to do, but the way he was feeling, he had no choice.
* * *
Madame Rose Clarisse de Soissons heaved a secret sigh. The affair was over. All her hopes were smashed, just as she had often warned herself they would be, but her heart was broken all the same. There would be no more making love with her dearly beloved Douglas, not tonight or ever again. Instead, here they sat sedately in her drawing room, she about to serve tea, just as elegant and proper as Lady Jersey herself. No one would guess from looking at her the misery she felt inside, least of all Douglas, who now sat half reclining, those well-muscled legs stretched before him. He appeared relaxed, but that was on the surface. She sensed the tautness of his body and caught the discontent that smoldered in his eyes. He had just informed her that although their affair was over, she would remain a valued friend. Some consolation that!
Well, at least she would see him from time to time, or so he said, and yes, she believed him. Douglas never told lies. Deep down she had always known he would never treat her like most men treated their Cyprians. Never would he use her until his ardor faded, then discard her like so much dross, as if her feelings didn’t count. Still, she couldn’t help but think what a fool she’d been. She waited anxiously for weeks for Douglas to return to London from that ancient castle of his in the middle of nowhere. Like an idiot, she had dreamed every night of being in his arms again. Well, forget that. He had arrived tonight with a remote look in his eye, telling her kindly but firmly he would not be occupying her bed tonight, nor any other night, that there were certain other matters that were keeping his mind totally occupied. Of course, he was as kind and generous as ever. She fingered the pearl necklace he had just fastened affectionately around her neck. What bitter irony. He had brought her a necklace but he surely hadn’t brought himself.
She was aware she was about to torture herself, but she was determined to find out why.
“So, Douglas, tell me more of this Lucinda. You’ve mentioned her several times this evening.” She waited for an answer, watching him with the eyes of a hawk. Aha! See how his whole face lit at the sound of her name.
For a moment Douglas regarded the ceiling, looking for all the world as if the young lady’s description might be sent down from above. “I have already told you what she looks like,” he replied. “But aside from her physical beauty, she possesses a strong character. I like that in a woman. Like you, Rose, she has a mind of her own and doesn’t mind putting me in my place on occasion.” He smiled over at her, those dimples in his cheeks suddenly appearing, melting her heart yet again.
“You love her,” she told him bluntly.
He allowed an inordinate amount of time to pass before he answered, “Yes.” How painful that admission must have been, she thought with disgust. Naturally Sir Aloof and Independent would have difficulty admitting, even to himself, that he had fallen in love. Well, the door was now open. “A lot?” she asked. “Or is this a passing fascination?”
“I adore her. I can’t sleep for thinking of her. I never thought I’d feel this way about a woman, but I do.”
“Then I doubt ‘twill be her strong character you’ll be thinking of when you take her to your bed. Or—” she cocked an eyebrow at him “—have you already?”
“No, I have not, nor shall I ever.” He grimaced and let out a bitter laugh. “I have fallen in love with the one woman in this world I cannot have. The whole affair is hopeless and all for naught.”
To her great surprise, he then proceeded, finally and at long last, to tell her everything. The words simply poured out, as if he could not hold them back another second. He related the story of the tragedy, wherein his brother was accused of a heinous crime against a little girl and fled to France. He told her about the long years of his family being shunned, of the feud between the two families, and of the doomed lovers, Alex and Alethea, who were devastated by Edgerton’s revenge. He told her of his brother Gregory whom everyone thought was dead, but, thank God, was still alive. He ended by saying, “So you see I would have done Lucinda an appalling disservice had I not walked away.”
“It must have been terribly hard,” she said. She wanted to add she, herself, knew just exactly how hard it was to lose someone you loved.
“You will never know how hard.”
Ha! “Then why don’t you do something about it, Douglas? Why are you moping around? If you want the woman, then go after her. Make whatever is keeping you apart go away.”
He thought a moment. “True, there’s only the old tragedy that stands between us. Otherwise—”
“Does she love you?”
“Possibly, I’m not sure. In fact, probably not, after the way I’ve treated her.”
“How old are you, Douglas?” She had never asked before.
“Thirty-one.”
“And you were only six at the time of the tragedy? When he nodded, she continued, “Then for twenty-five years you have lived in this cloud of bitterness. Don’t you think that’s long enough? Don’t you think it’s time you got rid of the cloud? This is not like you. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve always had a keen grasp on just what you wanted and just how to get it.” She gave him a wry little smile. “That included me.”
She watched, her heart aching, as Douglas stood and started pacing, so utterly graceful. Finally he addressed her. “You know you’ll always have a special place in my heart, Rose.”
“Nonsense! We’re not talking about me now. We’re talking about the woman you love and how you can win her.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Don’t be negative. Perhaps Draconian measures are required here. Why not bring Gregory home? If he’s as innocent as you claim, then perhaps he can somehow prove his innocence.”
“Don’t forget, it’s been twenty-five years.
”
“People die. Memories fade. I judge from what you’ve told me that the countryside has pretty much forgotten. It’s only Edgerton who keeps the fires of hate burning. So confront the man. If he cannot prove these charges, then it’s time to forget the past and move on.”
Douglas gave her a crooked grin. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Do you care about your brother?”
I would dearly love to clear my brother’s name.”
“Do you not want Lucinda?”
“More than anything on earth.” He thought a moment. “Perhaps I have been a fool, wallowing in self pity, taking for granted that this tragedy will follow me all my life.”
“How can I argue? Chances are it won’t, unless you let it. But if you’re going to have Lucinda, you’re going to have to fight for her.”
For the first time that night, the look of discontent left his eyes. “I do believe you’re right, Rose. By God, I think I will.”
You are a fool, Rose, she said to herself. Now there was no hope at all and she had lost him for good. But the trouble was, she loved Douglas with all her heart and when you love someone you want to see them happy.
And it was plain to see that for Douglas, happiness meant Miss Lucinda Linley.
Chapter 16
Papa left for home the next morning, satisfied his second daughter was in good spirits and filled with new resolve.
After he was gone, Lucinda pondered what to do. Although she had no intention of permitting herself to fall back into her previous state of indecision, she was hard put to decide what should happen next. One thing she knew she must do—inspect that attic at Ravensbrook Manor. But how? She needed sage advice, but from whom? Surely not Pernelia, who needed no remainders of the past, nor vacillating Jane, nor—what a thought!—Sarah, who was everything unpleasant.
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