The Viscount's Runaway Wife

by Laura Martin

  ‘I was making plans with my steward. He has a brother who did some work on the house before.’ Oliver frowned, as if he couldn’t see why talking about converting the rooms into a locked nursery would make Lucy flee.

  ‘You were talking about turning them into a nursery, a nursery where you could lock our child away if necessary.’ He looked puzzled so Lucy pushed on. ‘You stressed the importance of a lock on the door and you said we didn’t know what our child would be like, but it was better to be prepared.’

  ‘And you thought I meant to lock them away, hide them where no one would see them?’

  ‘What else could you mean?’

  ‘I wanted to convert the rooms into a nursery, with the option of a master bedroom in the largest of the rooms so we would be on hand if our child did need us. The lock was to be on our door for privacy.’

  Lucy closed her eyes. She’d assumed the worst from the snippet of conversation she’d heard and rather than asking her husband about it she’d reacted rashly.

  ‘You think so little of me?’ Oliver asked. His tone was impassive, but Lucy could see the hurt behind his eyes.

  ‘I misunderstood,’ she said, reaching out and trying to take her husband’s hand.

  Pulling away, he crossed over to the window, leaning against the windowsill in what seemed like an attempt to get as far away from her as possible.

  ‘And your solution was to run away?’

  ‘No,’ Lucy protested, even though it had been her first reaction.

  He motioned to the packed bag on the bed. ‘Don’t lie, Lucy. You were going to leave without a word again.’

  ‘I thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘I got as far as packing my bag, but I couldn’t go through with it.’

  Oliver shook his head. He didn’t believe her, that much was clear.

  ‘We can’t do this,’ he said after a long minute’s silence. ‘I can’t do this, not again.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lucy asked, feeling an emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ he repeated.

  She waited for him to elaborate, at the same time hoping he wouldn’t say any more.

  ‘You don’t trust me,’ he said finally. ‘And I don’t trust you. That’s no way for a relationship to be.’

  ‘I do...’ Lucy trailed off as she saw the expression on her husband’s face.

  He was right, she didn’t trust him. It wasn’t anything he’d done, or anything he’d said, just her own inability to trust.

  ‘Maybe it would be better if we spent some time apart,’ he said.

  Lucy felt her mouth drop open in surprise. Whatever she’d expected she hadn’t ever thought he would suggest that. Over the last few weeks Oliver had been working to keep them close, to build their relationship and break down the barriers between them. Now he was suggesting they cut their ties and spend time apart.

  ‘Perhaps it would,’ Lucy said, trying to keep the catch of emotion from her voice. Despite the packed bag by her side she didn’t really want to leave. She wanted Oliver to hold her in his arms and reassure her that everything would work out in the end.

  ‘I will make arrangements,’ he said, pushing himself away from the windowsill and striding across the room.

  He left without a backwards glance and before the door had closed, Lucy felt the tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Trying to keep her pace slow, as if she were in no hurry, Lucy descended the stairs, forcing a smile when she passed Parker in the hall. The smile must have been more of a grimace than anything else for the butler started forward, but Lucy waved him away with a dismissive hand.

  ‘Please inform my husband I have done as he wished,’ she said, trying to stop her voice from breaking.

  ‘Do you need some assistance, Lady Sedgewick?’ The butler’s voice was full of concern and Lucy couldn’t look at him in case she burst into tears.

  ‘No, thank you, Parker.’

  And with that Lucy fled Sedgewick Place less than twenty-four hours after arriving.

  * * *

  With a growl of frustration Oliver threw down the papers he’d been trying to read for the last hour. He’d told himself he needed a distraction, anything to stop him thinking about the disaster that was his marriage, but in truth not even a stampeding herd of cattle through his study could distract him from his thoughts.

  Standing, he stalked over to the window and stared out over the garden. The grass was wet from the melting frost and it glistened in the sunlight, although in the distance he thought he could see dark clouds gathering. All in all it was a beautiful day. It was as though even the weather was mocking his foul mood.

  She’d been ready to run away again, that was what he couldn’t believe. So early on, at the very first sign of controversy. Perhaps she had misunderstood him about his plans for the nursery, but any normal person would have spoken to him about it, asked him to explain his words, not packed a bag and been ready to flee.

  He would never be able to trust her, that was the problem. Every day he would wake and wonder if today was the day his wife disappeared without a trace.

  ‘What can I do?’ he murmured to himself. They were married, they were expecting a child together, in so many ways they were tied together for the rest of their lives. Perhaps he needed to lower his expectations. If he was honest with himself, Lucy’s behaviour hurt so much because he cared so much. He wanted to have a full and loving relationship with his wife, but perhaps that was too much to ask for. The only way to protect himself, to stop her from hurting him again, was to pull back. They would have a child together, but that didn’t mean they had to live in the same house. He owned a total of four properties, they never had to see one another if they didn’t wish to.

  Feeling a squeeze on his heart, Oliver tried to steel himself. It had to be done. He couldn’t live every day not knowing when his wife would abandon him and take their child, too. He would make arrangements for Lucy to travel back to London later today. She could stay at Sedgewick House, continue her precious work at the Foundation, while he spent time in the country trying to work out exactly how their future would look.

  Before he could change his mind he turned and strode from his study, ready to make the arrangements that would separate him from his wife, at least in the short term.

  ‘Have you seen Lady Sedgewick?’ he asked Parker as he descended the stairs.

  ‘She’s walked into the village, my lord. Left rather abruptly.’

  ‘In this weather?’ It was bitterly cold outside and the clouds were gathering faster than Oliver liked. He could understand her desire to clear her head, but it was the start of winter and in her condition she shouldn’t be out on her own.

  ‘Shall I ask the grooms to ready your horse?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Oliver paused, thinking of Lucy’s safety when he caught up with her. ‘And perhaps get the carriage sent on behind to transport Lady Sedgewick home.’ He didn’t want her riding in her condition.

  ‘Very good.’

  Just as he left the warmth of the house, he wondered for a moment what she’d been thinking, but then quickly dismissed the thought. He was giving up trying to understand his wife.

  * * *

  An hour later, Oliver was beginning to get worried. It was only a short distance into the village, barely fifteen minutes by foot and less than half that on horseback. He’d expected to see Lucy ambling down the High Street, perhaps browsing a few shop windows. When he hadn’t spotted her in the street he’d wondered if she’d entered one of the few shops that were dotted throughout the village. He’d dismounted, leading his horse so he could peer into the shops as he passed, but still there was no sign of Lucy.

  After two laps of the village Oliver felt the panic start to take over him. Perhaps he’d missed her on the ride in. She could be lying in a
roadside ditch, injured and alone, and he’d ridden straight past her. Before deciding to retrace his steps he headed for the village inn, an ancient establishment frequented by most of the villagers on the colder winter evenings. Even today it was busy with the lunchtime trade, mainly older men setting the world to rights over a glass of ale and whatever was on the menu for lunch.

  Oliver pushed his way inside, the villagers making a path from him, the men doffing their hats as they caught his eye.

  ‘I’m looking for my wife,’ Oliver said as he reached the bar.

  The landlord, a man by the name of Black, stopped what he was doing and looked at Oliver with concern. There had been rumours throughout the village when Lucy had disappeared a year ago—the servants from Sedgewick Place were mainly local and they’d talked to family members and friends. The result of which was the entire village knowing at least the bare bones of the story of Lucy’s disappearance. The news that she was back would have circulated among the locals already, but Oliver couldn’t worry about adding fuel to the rumours. The villagers could think anything they liked as long as he found Lucy safe and unharmed.

  ‘Lady Sedgewick?’ Mr Black asked, frowning. He stopped polishing the glass in his hands, giving Oliver his full attention.

  ‘We arrived yesterday. She came into the village to do a little shopping and I can’t seem to find her.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her in here, my lord,’ Mr Black said, lowering his voice deferentially.

  Oliver nodded his thanks. It had always been unlikely for Lucy to have entered the Green Man unaccompanied, but at least now he knew for sure and could look elsewhere.

  Just as he was winding his way back through the crowds, one of the older men of the village caught him by the arm.

  ‘Sorry to accost you, my lord, but I overheard your question about your wife.’

  ‘Have you seen her?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘Pretty young thing with blonde hair and a blue dress?’

  Oliver nodded. It was a good description of Lucy from someone who didn’t know her well.

  ‘There was a young lady getting on the coach to London half an hour ago. She looked too well dressed to be one of the normal customers.’

  ‘You’re sure she got on the coach?’ Oliver asked, his heart sinking.

  ‘Watched it leave and she was by the window.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Oliver said, shaking the man by the hand, then quickly exiting the inn. Once outside, he took deep gulps of air, trying to still the spinning of his head.

  Surely the old man had been wrong. He’d said they should spend some time apart, but he hadn’t meant for her to take the public coach not an hour later. His plan had been to safely transport her back to his London house; had he not made that clear? A wave of panic overtook him. She’d disappeared again. Right now she would be halfway back to London and once there she could go anywhere. He’d wanted space, wanted time apart, but he’d never meant for her to disappear completely.

  Vaulting on to his horse, he galloped out of the village at top speed, only to rein the animal in once they were a few hundred feet down the road.

  ‘Enough,’ he said to himself. ‘You can’t keep doing this.’

  Slowly, hating the sinking feeling inside his gut, he turned his horse around and slackened his grip on the reins, allowing the stallion to pick his own speed as they worked their way back towards the village.

  He wasn’t going to chase her again. He told himself he knew where she was headed. In the first instance she would retreat to St Giles and surround herself with people she knew and felt comfortable with. In a couple of days he would have worked out how best to suggest they move forward with their lives, but right now he needed to work out what he wanted and what he was willing to compromise on.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘Stupid, stupid girl,’ she murmured as she alighted the coach at Charing Cross, chilled to her very core and feeling decidedly foolish.

  The long coach ride to London had given her time to think and time to dwell on her actions and now she was regretting them with every passing minute. Why hadn’t she unpacked the bag when she had decided to stay? Why hadn’t she tried harder to convince Oliver that she wasn’t going to run again? Foolish, that was what she’d been, and now she was wishing she could be back in their bedroom in Sedgewick Place, finding the words to convince Oliver she wouldn’t run away with their child again.

  Lucy was stunned he’d sent her away. Perhaps he hadn’t meant for her to catch the public coach back to London, but the end result was the same. He wanted time away from her, time to work out how they would move on from the mess that was their marriage.

  Walking briskly up Charing Cross Road, she headed for St Giles. It was the first place Oliver might think to come looking for her and she didn’t want to make it hard for him to find her.

  ‘Lucy?’ Mary called, leaning out of one of the upstairs windows as Lucy entered the inner courtyard of the Foundation.

  It was late and most of the residents were in their rooms, so Lucy was able to make her way upstairs without anyone else seeing her. Once on the landing, Mary’s door opened and the older woman ushered her inside.

  ‘What on earth are you doing back here?’ Mary asked. ‘I thought you went to Sussex yesterday.’

  ‘I did, we did,’ Lucy said, fighting the urge to burst into tears.

  ‘Come, sit down. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.’

  Sitting in her usual fireside chair, Lucy edged closer to the flames to warm her frozen fingers by the fire. She’d left in such haste that she hadn’t been appropriately clothed for the chilly November weather and the coach to London had been draughty and uncomfortable. As the warmth slowly seeped back into her body she began to feel the muscle aches in her shoulders and back from holding herself so tense over the last few hours.

  ‘Tell me what happened,’ Mary instructed as she placed the cup of tea in Lucy’s hands.

  ‘It’s over, Mary. My marriage is over.’

  ‘Come now,’ Mary said, ‘surely it can’t be as bad as all that.’

  Morosely Lucy nodded—it was as bad as all that. The more she thought about her relationship with Oliver, the more she couldn’t see a way out of their current predicament.

  ‘Start at the beginning,’ Mary instructed, her voice soft but firm, and Lucy found herself obeying.

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ Lucy said. ‘At least I’m reasonably sure I am.’

  ‘And I take it congratulations would be a little premature,’ Mary said cautiously.

  ‘I never thought I’d have another child, not after David. I’m not sure my heart can take any more heartbreak.’

  ‘This child will likely be healthy,’ Mary said, echoing the words Oliver had spoken to her on so many occasions.

  ‘But what if he’s not?’

  ‘You can’t go through life thinking like that, Lucy dear. Bad things don’t always happen. Many, many children are born healthy and happy every single day and there is no reason to believe that you would have another child who did not thrive.’

  ‘I’m so scared,’ Lucy said, not able to meet the other woman’s eye as she admitted her innermost feelings. ‘I feel panicked every time I think about this baby—I worry they might suffer and I’ll be the one who’s brought them into this world.’

  ‘Of course you’re scared. It’s natural after everything you’ve been through, but we can’t let ourselves be governed by our fears. You have a baby growing inside you and there is nothing that can be done about it. Now you have to be strong—you have to be that child’s mother even though it hasn’t been born yet.’

  ‘I am its mother,’ Lucy murmured, as if only just realising it.

  Mary was right, there was nothing to be done now. In seven to eight months she would give birth to a baby who would need love and care, but th
e love and care didn’t start when she gave birth—it started now. Looking down and placing a gentle hand on her abdomen, she tried to picture the baby that was growing inside her, but found it impossible.

  ‘I feel so guilty,’ she whispered.

  ‘Worrying you might love another child as much as you did David?’

  Wordlessly Lucy nodded. It was one of her greatest fears. She had promised her young son no one would ever replace him in her heart.

  ‘You will love it as much as you did David,’ Mary said, reaching across and squeezing Lucy’s hand. ‘Of course you will. This baby will be as much your child as David was. You can’t feel guilty for loving another.’ She paused, as if thinking. ‘Just think, if David were still alive and you were pregnant again, would you worry about giving the second child as much of your heart?’

  Lucy shook her head.

  ‘Then you can’t worry now.’

  ‘I’ve been so foolish, Mary.’

  ‘Sometimes we act in ways we regret when our hearts and our heads are all in a muddle.’

  ‘I told Oliver about the baby.’

  ‘How did he react?’

  ‘Not well.’ Lucy thought back to the forced smile and the way he’d quickly left the room after she’d told him the news. She’d expected him to be wary, but not as reticent as he had been.

  ‘You have to remember he lost a child, too.’

  ‘I know,’ Lucy said, running a hand through her hair. It was a fact she did sometimes lose sight of. Oliver might not have been there in those first weeks of David’s life, but he had been the young boy’s father.

  ‘Every uncertainty you have, every worry, he will have, too.’

  Nodding, Lucy realised she had never tried to see things from Oliver’s perspective. She’d apologised for her behaviour, for running and never contacting him to let him know what had happened, but she hadn’t ever really considered how it might have affected him.

  ‘He wants us to spend some time apart,’ Lucy said quietly.

  She couldn’t tell Mary that when he’d uttered those words it had felt as though her heart was breaking. Despite her fears and her worries, she’d wanted him to fold her in his arms and tell her everything would work out.