“Certainly, my lord.” He turned and hurried from the doorway.
In Conrad’s estimation, a nasty rumor would spread through the servants in the next few minutes. It never took long, once one of them latched onto a juicy bit of gossip that they thought would appeal to their contemporaries.
I hope word of it doesn’t reach Amelia through her own servants. It seemed to happen all too frequently. That they delighted in sharing tales about their employers.
If he told Amelia the truth, however, he ran the risk of her telling someone else about his true parentage. What would happen if the wrong person found out?
I know what could happen… loss of respect in the community at the very least. Even possible loss of title and home if the situation became severe.
With a deep longing, Conrad wished he could simply tell her. But that would involve absolute trust. And unfortunately in light of her blackmail scheme, trusting her to that degree was not in him.
Since I had once been the culprit in another blackmail scheme, I know all too well the mindset that desperation can bring. I don’t blame her motives for wanting to not be saddled with ancient Lord Griffith, but… that doesn’t give me comfort that she can be trusted. Unfortunately.
As delighted as he would be to see Cecilia, he was also troubled. What could entice her to visit him uninvited? He and Amelia had no plans today that would necessitate having Cecilia as a chaperone.
He adjusted his cravat, smoothed the front of his jacket and left his room. After descending the stairs quickly, he reached the parlor.
His sister was not seated, but instead paced about the room. Her scuffed boots tapped a staccato beat against the wood floor.
Conrad took a step. “Cecilia?”
She stopped and turned, pressing her hand to her chest. Wet tracks made their way down her cheeks as tears flowed. “Oh, Lord Lofton, I—”
Conrad reached into his pocket and found his handkerchief. He stepped closer, dried her tears and took her hand as he led her to the settee.
Once seated, he accepted the handkerchief she held out and replaced it in his pocket. “Now… First of all, when you’re in my home, you may call me Conrad.”
She nodded slowly, keeping her gaze on her lap.
“Secondly, why are you in such obvious distress?”
Cecilia’s eyes were reddened. “Oh… C-Conrad. Something horrible has happened. Simply dreadful.”
His heart hammered in his chest. His gaze roamed over her face. “Are you… Are you ill?”
“No, I’m fine. But… it’s Papa.”
He sucked in a gulp of air. Oh no. “What… what’s happened to Andrew?” The seconds stretched out, seemingly endless, until her lips formed the words.
“Papa was hurt late last night. It came as a shock and I’m afraid that it was too late to get word to you. I didn’t want to send someone to tell you. I felt you should hear the facts from me, so I—”
Grabbing her shoulders, Conrad stared at her. “What is it? Has he… Is he…?” Please don’t let him be dead. I’ve just met him. I couldn’t bear—
“He’s alive.”
A huge gush of relief washed over Conrad. Thank goodness! But… Cecilia was crying. “What has happened to him?”
“He was trampled by a horse outside of his business. I witnessed it. It was horrible! I heard a scream and then realized it came from me.”
“Dear heavens! How badly was he injured?” Conrad envisioned poor Andrew lying in a mangled heap, bloodied, possibly maimed, beneath the large, hard hooves of a giant horse.
“His life was spared, as was most of his body. He has bruises all over and is quite sore.” She shuddered. “But… It was his hand, which took the brunt of it. The horse’s hoof landed directly on it.”
“Oh no… Can it be… saved?” How painful that must have been.
She shook her head as fresh tears replaced the dried ones. Conrad gave her his handkerchief again. “His hand… was cr-crushed. I heard his bones snap when the…Oh, Conrad it was dreadful! Papa is in such agony.”
“Has the physician been called?”
“Yes. He examined Papa. He said there’s nothing to be done for it, though. I’m afraid Papa will simply have to live with it like… like that.”
Conrad dropped his hands from her shoulders and pulled her into a quick embrace. “Oh, my dear little sister, how terrible for him and for you! And your mother.” He pushed away thoughts of the other woman who was married to Andrew. A woman who was not his mother.
Now is not the time for that!
“I’m frightened, Conrad.” Cecilia’s lips trembled as they formed the words.
“Does the physician fear for Andrew’s life? That he will suffer some malady later on as a result?”
“No. He feels certain that’s not the case. Just… his hand will no longer be of use.”
Realization struck Conrad.
Hard.
Andrew’s hands were his livelihood. Without the use of both, he wouldn’t be able to perform his duties as a surgeon-dentist. A pulse throbbed along Conrad’s jaw, as if his mouth remembered the pain from the day he’d first visited Andrew. Although Conrad had blacked out, his father would have had to use so much force and pressure, with both hands, to remove the tooth, as it had not been loose beforehand.
His father would have no way to continue his vocation. Which meant…
Conrad glanced at Cecilia. Neither would he be able to support his daughter and his ill wife. At all.
Cecilia stood abruptly. “I… thank you for seeing me and for listening with such care. I must get back home now in case Mama or Papa need—”
Conrad took her hand and gently coaxed her to sit down again. “There is one thing I want you to understand, dear sister. You, Andrew and your mother will want for nothing. I have the means to help you, and help you is what I will do.”
“No… oh no. When I came to tell you of Papa, I only wanted you to be aware of the accident. I didn’t intend for you to—”
“Shhh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Hush now. I know you didn’t, for you are not that way. Your heart is pure and you think only of others. But it is my wish to do it. Andrew is my father, too. And you are my sister. Your mother raised you and I can see you love her very much. You are family. And family takes care of its own.”
Cecilia blinked rapidly, causing fresh tears to tumble down her cheeks. “I’m so… grateful, brother. You cannot imagine how this will help Papa and Mama. You are the kindest man—”
“No. I’m not. However, I’m trying to be a good man, and I’m hoping now that I’ve found new members of my family I can prove to be that man.”
“Thank you. Thank you from my whole heart.” She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her small frame. Conrad’s mother had never been demonstrative or loving. How wonderful to be shown affection by one’s family.
Giles appeared suddenly in the doorway. “Pardon me, Lord Lofton, but you have another visitor.”
Startled, Conrad turned. He hadn’t heard Giles approach or anyone knock at the door. His whole interest had lain with Cecilia and her worries. “Giles, who is—?”
A flash of red hair appeared as Amelia brushed past the butler. “Oh, Giles, you don’t need to introduce me to—” She stopped so suddenly she nearly tripped. “Oh… Cecilia…” She blinked and tilted her head as if trying to reason out what she saw before her.
Cecilia pulled away from Conrad and stood. “Thank you, Conrad. Thank you… so very much.” She paused at the doorway and curtseyed to Amelia. “Good day.” She hurried from the room.
All color drained from Amelia’s face. “I…” She glanced at the front door, which only seconds before had opened and closed upon Cecilia’s departure.
Conrad stood and crossed the room. What must she think? To walk in to her betrothed’s parlor and see him in the arms of another woman? A woman she didn’t know was his relation. He was sure she hadn’t bel
ieved what he’d told Lucy — that Cecilia was his distant cousin.
Amelia lowered her eyebrows over her lovely green eyes, as in concentration, and blinked again.
Conrad reached out to her, intending to comfort her, to say something, anything to help her understand that what she saw was not what she may have thought. “Amelia, I—”
Her gaze flew to his and she backed away, as if suddenly realizing he stood in front of her. “No. I… I must…” She turned her head away. “I need to…” She took a single step backward, then another.
“Amelia, please don’t leave. I want to—”
She held up her hand. “Please… Lord Lofton… Don’t. I do not wish to hear any more—” Her breath hitched. “—lies.”
“But you don’t understand. It wasn’t as you thought. Please, let me—”
She nearly stumbled again as she backed up. Gaining her balance, she turned and fled through the entryway. Giles opened the door seconds before she would have crashed into it in her fervent attempt to escape.
Conrad ran after her. “Amelia! Wait!”
When he reached the open door, he saw it was too late. Amelia was already in her carriage, being quickly driven down the long drive. Away from his house. Away from him.
Out of his life?
Chapter Twenty-six
Today I won’t take no for an answer.
Conrad drove his own carriage, determined to stay at the Talbots’ until Amelia spoke to him. He didn’t want to have a driver sitting out on the lane, waiting for him, if it took several hours of persuasion to get Amelia to speak to him.
The last three days he’d tried. And failed. But today, if he had to scream at the top of his lungs until she came down the stairs to investigate the noise, he’d do it.
He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t. When she’d run from his home and he was left alone, he’d realized just how much she meant to him. Yes, he’d known he cared about her. Even loved her. But the thought of living without ever seeing her green eyes gazing at him, kissing her full lips or hearing her murmur his name again left a cold, hard stone in his chest where his heart had once resided.
He would see her. And would speak to her.
Would make her understand.
But can you trust her?
He still wasn’t sure. Couldn’t say for sure that she wouldn’t tell someone and the word would get out.
Still…
The fear of someone discovering his secret now paled in comparison to the thought of not being with Amelia. No matter what happened after he confessed who he really was, as long as she believed him and loved him still, it would be all right. He would make it work somehow.
Until she accepted him back into her life again, he’d not rest easy. Not be able to take a breath without pain stabbing his chest from sheer despair. Or keep the dark thoughts of possible lonely days ahead at bay.
He reached the Talbots’ estate and stopped his carriage in front. The groom, now used to seeing Conrad on the doorstep, accepted the horses’ reigns without a word, and took over the animals’ care.
Conrad clenched his hands into fists at his sides. You can do this. You will do this. For Amelia.
He rapped on the door several times, and kept knocking until the door opened by a frowning butler.
“Good day, Lord Lofton. I’m afraid that Miss Talbot is indisposed and—”
Conrad held up his hand. “Yes, I’m quite aware of what you’ll say. It’s the same speech you’ve been told to give every time I’ve called this week.”
“Yes, my lord, but—”
“No. Today that will not suffice.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
Conrad stepped closer. “Today, I will have an audience with Miss Talbot.”
“But, my lord, I—”
Conrad took another step until he was nearly nose to nose with the butler. Being several inches taller than the servant, it was easy for him to lean forward, thus making the butler lean back. So far back, in fact, that the man nearly stumbled.
With a step backward, then another, the butler regained his balance. He swallowed and looked over his shoulder and then back. “Lord Lofton, it’s not my doing that you… You see I’ve been instructed not to…”
Conrad stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. “I know all about instructing servants.”
“I… I…” He swallowed. “Yes, of course, my lord.”
“And I shall wait right in this very spot until you bring Miss Talbot down here.” Conrad crossed his arms. “Am I being clear enough?”
The butler bobbed his head quickly, like a small boat on a choppy sea. “Very good, my lord. Right away, my lord.” He backed up several steps, then turned and all but ran up the tall flight of stairs.
As soon as the other man was out of sight upstairs, Conrad let out the breath he’d been holding. Truth be told, he hadn’t been at all sure his show of bravado would work. It wasn’t as if he’d had a lot of practice using it.
Voices could be heard from upstairs. Amelia’s. The butler’s. Amelia’s again, a little louder, though Conrad couldn’t quite make out the words. Although they didn’t sound amused.
He paced around the large entryway so much that he lost count of the number of times he passed the framed looking glass. Each time he caught his reflection, he registered one expression.
Fear.
Fear that Amelia would refuse to see him. That she would listen but wouldn’t believe him. Or worse… that she believed him but still wouldn’t marry him.
Please Amelia. There is something between us. I know you feel it too. I know you do.
The sound of rapid footfalls came from above him. He raised his gaze to the stairs. Sapphire blue slippers appeared on the top step. Followed by a skirt of matching color. He recognized the gown as one of Amelia’s favorites. Conrad’s heart raced. It was her. She was coming down the steps!
By the time she had descended far enough past the landing that he could view her face, he was appalled to see that she was scowling.
Did you expect anything different? That she’d throw you a party, perhaps?
Amelia reached the bottom step and halted. Fire sparked in her eyes and she placed her hands on her hips. “What is the meaning of terrorizing our butler, Lord Lofton?”
He took a step toward her, but only one. “I wouldn’t exactly say terrorize. It was more like—”
She held up her hand. “Stop talking.”
He opened his mouth and promptly snapped it shut again.
Amelia walked nearer to him. Slowly. Deliberately. “Since you cannot seem to take the hint that I don’t want to see you, I suppose I shall have to listen to you spout even more lies until I can successfully see you gone.” She raised an eyebrow. “For good.”
“May I… speak now?”
She lifted her chin and glared at him down the end of her nose. The queen could not have done it better. “You may.”
He removed his hat. “You see—”
“Not here.” She glanced around and then motioned him to follow her into the parlor. Once they were inside, she closed the door. They were alone. Without a chaperone. Did she even realize what she was doing?
She pointed to a high-backed chair. “Sit.”
Like an obedient dog, he hurried to the chair and did her bidding, anxious to have the interview over. She sat in a chair opposite from his. Too bad the chairs were so far apart. He longed to touch her. Gaze into her eyes. Although, the way she was glaring, it was unlikely either of those two would be happening in the foreseeable future.
With a sigh, she shifted in her chair. “I’m here now. What is so important that you barged your way into my father’s home? I can’t imagine there’s anything you could say that would alter my current opinion of you, low as that happens to be at the moment.”
Lovely. He had his work to do there, obviously. But he was up to the challenge. Amelia’s love was at stake, and that was a very worthy cause, indeed. There was none higher.
/>
He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, training his gaze on her face. Quite a relaxed posture, but perhaps, just perhaps, she would get the idea that he wanted to speak of something of a personal, heartfelt nature.
For a few seconds, she didn’t move. Then, she relaxed the tiniest of bits. He drew a small bit of encouragement from that and proceeded.
“Amelia, when you were last at my house, I’m sure what you witnessed caused you some alarm and confusion.”
“Please don’t deign to tell me what I felt, Lord Lofton.”
He longed to roll his eyes at her deliberate use of his title, but he refrained. He needed every bit of positive thought to accomplish his goal of having her actually listen to his words.
“As I was saying, when you walked in and Cecilia was there, it was because she…” Once he said the words, he could never un-speak them.
She yawned. “Yes, continue.”
“Cecilia, who I might remind you is a recent friend of yours…”
She raised one eyebrow but said nothing.
“Well, Cecilia had come uninvited to tell me something of a very grave nature.”
Amelia flipped her hand in the air. “Let me guess, she’d had a tear in her already worn pelisse and needed to cry on your shoulder?”
“No. What I’m speaking of has to do with someone having been hurt. Trampled by a horse, in fact.”
She sat up straight. “Oh… My.”
“Indeed.”
“And who was… trampled, may I ask?”
“You may. It was her father. You met him that day on Rotten Row. Mr. Fletcher.”
“The surgeon-dentist. Yes, I know who he is.” She glanced down. “Is he… that is, was he…?”
“He’s alive, but…”
“But he was hurt? Badly?”
“I’m afraid so.” Conrad swallowed against a lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Imagining what his father had gone through was still difficult.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Truly I am. Although, I still don’t see what it had to do with you.”
“I… I’m getting to that.”
Love Birds: The Complete Collection Page 33
