by Darcy Burke
“Thank you, Isabelle,” she breathed. “I was so caught up in my own feelings and protecting Seth that I didn’t consider Giles.”
Isabelle reached forward and patted her hand. “You’re welcome. I think this is what friends are for.”
“Yes, and saving each other from a life filled with embroidery.”
THIRTY-ONE
Giles couldn’t go to Session and it had nothing to do with the potential of being in the same room with the man who had once been intimate with his wife.
Instead, he rode around London trying to make sense of why Lucy was being so stubborn. Didn’t Seth have a right to know who his own father was? If he weren’t curious, then Giles could understand not telling him. But he was curious.
Eight hours later he turned Thor, his stallion, down his street and sighed. He was no closer to drawing a conclusion than he had been when he’d left.
Lucy was right, though, it wasn’t his place to tell Seth the truth. Only she could do that and no matter how much Seth might beg him to, Giles wouldn’t betray Lucy’s trust that way.
Arriving at home, he slid his tired and sore body from the saddle and tied Thor to the post for a groom to come attend him then went inside to assure his wife that he wouldn’t say anything to Seth. Even though he disagreed with her decision. He should probably leave that part off if he didn’t wish to get into another quarrel.
“Where’s Lady Norcourt?” Giles asked Millie when he didn’t see Lucy in any of the common rooms or their bedchamber.
“She left not long after you did, my lord.”
Giles’ stomach lurched. “Left? To where?”
Millie ran her duster in the crack between the wall sconce and the wall. “Didn’t say, my lord.”
“Did she say when she’d be back?”
“No, my lord.”
Giles frowned. “And Seth?”
“He went with her.”
His blood turned to ice. She’d left in a carriage more than nine hours ago without telling anyone where she’d gone, when she’d be back and Seth was with her. Why? Without another word to the maid, he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time to go check Seth’s room. He flung open the door and his heart sank. The sketchbook he’d given him was gone.
That could only mean one thing: Seth and Lucy were gone, too.
Lucy was exhausted. After spending the majority of her day chatting with Isabelle in her drawing room, she’d had to run by the library to collect Seth. Thankfully, he’d stayed there as he’d promised he would when given the choice to go spend the day there or go on errands with her.
Another point to her good fortune was going to the library had allowed Lucy a chance to have a much-needed discussion with Mrs. Appleton that yielded satisfactory results.
Then finally, it was back to the townhouse. With any luck, she’d get back before Giles. Isabelle had received a note from Sebastian mid-afternoon telling her that it could be late into the night before he’d return.
“Can I help you down?”
She looked at her son and smiled. Giles had been a good influence on him. “I’d be honored.” She put her hand in his and allowed him to help her descend the carriage.
He immediately released her hand as soon as both of her feet were on the ground. Perhaps Giles still had more work yet to do, she thought as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and walked up the stairs with him.
“I’m hungry. Can I go see if Cook has anything she’ll let me eat before dinner?”
“Yes.” Lucy untied her bonnet and set it down on the chair by the door. “But nothing sweet.”
With a grumble, Seth walked off.
Lucy shook her head ruefully and went upstairs to change her gown for dinner. Humming, she strolled to her bedchamber door, gripped the knob and twisted.
It didn’t budge.
She frowned and tried again. Locked.
An eerie feeling came over her. Lucy hadn’t locked their room. She didn’t even have a key!
Cautiously, she pressed her ear to the door.
Nothing.
Curiosity warred with unease. Someone had to be in there, or at least had been in there. She should go get Mrs. Plum, the housekeeper, and have her unlock it with one of the dozens of keys she had on the giant iron hoop she wore around her wrist.
Lucy turned to go find Mrs. Plum when she noticed that the door to the room Giles had put her in that first night he’d brought her to London was open. It was the baroness’ suite, or so Mrs. Plum had informed her. Giles preferred to refer to it as just another bedchamber, because the baroness’ bed was the same as the baron’s.
A small smile tugged her lips and she let herself into the unused room. It had an adjoining door, perhaps the locked door was a mistake and she could gain entry that way.
Her smile widened, just as she’d suspected, the adjoining door was not only unlocked, it was ajar. Idly tightening one of the pins in her hair, she went to the door and pulled it open.
Then froze.
“Giles?”
Giles, who’d been sitting in a chair with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and shoulders slumped, jerked to a straight sitting position and blinked at her as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What’s happened?” she gasped taking note of his red-rimmed eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks.
“You left.”
Lucy walked over toward him and he slowly took to his feet. “I left?” she repeated.
“I came home and you were gone. I thought...thought...”
“I wasn’t coming back?” she ventured.
He nodded slowly.
“Why would I leave you?”
“We quarreled.”
Lucy closed her eyes for an extended blink. “Giles, I love you, I wouldn’t leave you.”
His facial expression didn’t change.
“Do you not believe me?”
“I don’t know.” His words, spoken in a broken whisper, took all the starch out of her knees.
“How can you not know that I’d never leave you?”
He recoiled at her words, sending a wave of remorse over her. She should have been more careful with her words.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That wasn’t a fair question. I just don’t understand why you think I’d leave you. I love you.”
“So said my mother.”
Another wave of understanding overcame her. It was becoming quite evident she didn’t know her husband and his pain as well as she’d thought she had. “I’m not her, Giles. I won’t leave you. Ever.” She reached for both of his chilled hands and interlaced their fingers. “Just because we disagree, doesn’t mean that I won’t still be here.” She released his hands and slipped free the buttons on the front of his waistcoat then pulled his shirt from his trousers. “I love you, Giles. Everything about you.”
“Even the ugly parts?”
She couldn’t tell if he was attempting to jest or being serious. “There are no ugly parts.”
“There are. You just haven’t seen them.”
She didn’t believe that. Well, the part about her not seeing all of him, she did. He always seemed to take extra caution in keeping as much of himself covered as he could; therefore, she really hadn’t seen much of him at all. But she highly doubted there was anything ugly about him. She boldly cupped his groin for the first time, feeling like a new bride on her wedding night all over again as she did so. She took a measure of pride in how he hardened instantly under her fingers. “All of you.” She punctuated those words with a gentle squeeze.
He groaned.
Emboldened, she walked her fingers up to the fastenings of his trousers.
He covered her hand with his, staying her.
“Am I not allowed to see my husband, then?”
“See me?”
She nodded. “You’ve seen me without my clothing. Am I not to have the same privilege?”
“Privilege?”
“Don’t scoff. Have you forgott
en that I’m a scandal-ridden baroness? It might not be acceptable in these new circles I’ve entered into, but I’d like very much to see my husband. All of my husband.”
“You would?” The surprise in his voice made her smile.
“Of course.” She released the fastenings of his trousers and slid both of her hands under his shirt and up to his chest where her fingers tangled in his mat of chest hair. “I’ve been very curious about the texture of this.”
“You have?”
She’d have laughed at the surprise in his tone, if she weren’t so nervous. “Of course I have. Did you think it was only your sex who liked to look and touch?”
“Yes.”
This time she did laugh at his automatic answer. “Well, that’s not true.” She pressed her hands flat against his broad chest and used her fingers to explore all the curves and dips his muscles created. “Just because ladies don’t want to admit it, doesn’t dim their curiosity any.” She swallowed. “At least not this lady.”
“You don’t think it’s unsightly?”
Lucy stilled. “What, your body?” At his nod, she said, “No. Not at all.” Reluctantly, she withdrew her hands from under his shirt and smoothed down his coat. “If someone told you that it was, they were wrong. I’ve only glimpsed pieces here and there, so it’s possible that I’m the one wrong, but I refuse to believe it.” She heaved a deep sigh and said a silent prayer she wasn’t wrong to push him in this way. “Unfortunately, I might never be able to make an informed decision as long as you’re still wearing all of these clothes.”
He hesitated but a moment, then took two steps back before kicking off his boots and shrugging out of his coat and waistcoat. Without a word, he removed his cravat and pulled his shirt over his head.
She’d seen his chest before, but this time she looked her fill without the threat of him covering himself at any moment. Her eyes did a slow sweep of him, drinking everything in down to his waistband where he was working to finish where she’d left off unfastening his trousers. He slipped the last button, then gripped the sides and lowered them, revealing his long, thick erection and the large patch of curling, dark hair that surrounded it in the middle of his muscled thighs. He blocked her view momentarily to bend down and remove his trousers and stockings, exposing his muscled calves and broad bare feet to her.
He straightened and stood silent as she took in every inch of his front before circling him to see him at every angle. Tall, and both broad and lean in the right places, he was breathtaking, if a man could be termed in such a way.
She resumed her former position in front of him, meeting his green eyes.
“And?”
“You’re magnificent.”
He cocked his head to the side, his lips pulling up at the corner. “That’s the same word I thought when you dropped your chemise on our wedding night.”
She blushed. “Is that so?”
He nodded then let out a hollow bark of laughter. “Ironic we can think the same thing about the other, but cannot communicate well.”
“Indeed. But those are just mere misunderstandings. I’d wager every newly married couple has had them.” She closed the area between them and looped her arms around his neck. “I’d also wager we might have another, but—” she came up on her toes as far as they’d allowed, bringing her lips within an inch of his— “I want to make one thing perfectly clear to you.” She kissed his lips. “I—” kiss— “will—” kiss— “never—” kiss— “leave—” kiss— “you.”
“Never?”
“Never,” she confirmed. “However, just to make sure we’re both in agreement, I’d be happy to communicate it to you in another way. One that involves a bed.”
“And your dress on the floor?”
“We’d better be careful we’re having the same thought again,” she teased, pressing her midsection against his erection.
Something flashed in his eyes and his hands found her waist, and in a second he had her on the bed where she was free to touch and explore every inch of him.
Which garnered no protest from her.
Or him.
THIRTY-TWO
An hour later
Giles combed his fingers through Lucy’s hair, relishing the way her long, silky strands felt surrounding them. It felt almost as wonderful as having her naked body draped over his. Almost. He snorted. That was a lie. There was no comparison between the two.
He peered down at her from beneath his lowered lashes and watched her slender fingers move in mindless patterns across his chest. Why had he never considered that she might like to see and touch his body? He knew the answer to that and thrust the thought from his mind immediately. He had no call to relive the coldness of his adolescence. He wasn’t a boy in an orphanage any longer. He was a husband. A father.
His chest tightened. Seth wasn’t his child by nature, but he was his son in every other sense of the word. He closed his eyes. Earlier he and Lucy had only spoken of their misunderstanding, not their actual disagreement.
“Giles?”
His eyes snapped open. “Yes?”
Lucy rolled over to prop herself up on her elbow. “What’s the matter?”
“Matter?”
“Every muscle from your neck to your waist just went rigid,” she said as if that explained anything. “What were you thinking about?”
“This morning.”
“About Seth?”
He gave her a nod. “I won’t tell him.”
She licked her lips. “Thank—”
A loud commotion at the bottom of the stairs cut her off, followed only a moment later by a discreet scratching at the door.
“Yes?” Giles barked in the general direction of the door.
Millie said something, the only part of which Giles heard was “Lady Norcourt”.
“I’ll be right back,” Lucy said, grabbing the sheet and running for the door. She opened the door just enough to poke her head out, treating Giles to an unobstructed view of her backside.
She closed the door with a soft click and held her turned position.
“Lucy?” When she didn’t respond, he padded over to her. “What’s going on?”
“We have guests,” she said a slight waver in her voice.
“Guests?”
She lowered her sheet. “Your mother and Mr. Appleton have come to dinner.”
“They have?” He didn’t know why he was surprised that they’d come. They seemed the sort who had no qualms about last minute dinner invitations.
“They’re waiting in the drawing room so we’d better hurry.”
Giles cupped her face with his large hands. “Lucy, you’re the baroness and they’ve come without an invitation. You don’t have to see them.” At least that’s how he understood the term “not at home” when making social calls.
“No, I think we should see them. It’s just another misunderstanding. That’s all.”
“Misunderstanding?”
“Between me and your mother.” She turned her face and pressed a kiss on the side of his palm. “It’ll be all right.”
While he was relieved that this particular misunderstanding wasn’t any fault of his own, he wondered what had happened between the two that had made her so uneasy.
Stubborn woman that she was, she didn’t feel so inclined to explain anything to him as she donned that simple gown she’d been working on before he’d officially asked her to marry him.
Dinner was awkward. And if Giles thought so, everyone else must have been absolutely miserable.
Except Seth who seemed to have the never-ending appetite of a growing boy and a wish to talk to everyone about anything. It was only due to his mother’s agreement to allow him to eat as much custard as he could manage while the four adults talked in the drawing room that he didn’t follow them in there.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy whispered to him as they followed their guests to the drawing room.
“For Seth?”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to him to
morrow.”
Giles pulled them to a stop. “Not to banish him to his room for meals, I hope.” He might have been young, but he remembered that aspect of being nobility well enough.
“I know he can be a little impolite at times.”
“He’s an eleven-year-old boy. I think that’s his right.” He smiled at her. “Don’t banish him because of it.”
“I won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Good. Just don’t forget that in a minute.”
That would have piqued his curiosity if it wasn’t already.
“Shall we?” she said with a pointed look at the open door to the drawing room.
As instructed, a footman had moved some chairs into the drawing room. Two chairs to be exact. Both of which were being occupied, leaving only the settee available for Giles and Lucy.
Letting his wife get arranged he waited to join her. When he did, his hand automatically sought hers.
If dinner had been uncomfortable, this tension-filled silence that had engulfed them was nothing short of torture.
“Have you given any further consideration to what we talked about last week?” Mr. Appleton asked abruptly.
Actually, he had. Mr. Appleton had been right. He wanted to be the one to pass on his legacy to his heir. And to Seth. Obviously the title would have to pass on to his oldest son with Lucy, but Seth was his son, too, and shouldn’t be forgotten. “Yes.”
“And?”
“I’d like to try.”
A smile so wide that his eyes crinkled split the older man’s face. “I’ll start working on it immediately.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you thought any more about anything else I said that day?”
Giles wasn’t sure what the man was alluding to. Mr. Appleton had told him many things that day. “Which part?”
“The part I shouldn’t have told you.”
“The part about Simon not knowing how to carry his sums, either?”
At that, Mr. Appleton chuckled. “Yes, it’s best to keep that secret contained to this house, but there’s a reason for that.”
“Because nobody can properly explain it?”
