“I have only the vaguest memories of my parents,” she said. “This gentleman was . . .” She had never before attempted to explain the role he had played in her life. “He was a surrogate. He was family to me, the only family I have ever known.”
“What of your aunt and uncle?”
She dropped her gaze. Her voice quieted as well. “They never considered me family.”
“The Jonquils think of you that way, you know. Lord Lampton was fierce in his care for you. The dowager interrogated Dr. Scorseby for a full quarter of an hour the night you took ill. Charlie drove to Collingham to obtain a particular variety of herb my sister insists is most efficacious. Lady Lampton decreed that none of the guests are to disturb you without your express invitation.”
Even Lady Lampton had come to her defense? “This illness has meant I haven’t been very helpful to them.”
“Arabella. You are far more to them than a helpful companion. You are far more than that to—” He cleared his throat and didn’t finish the thought.
How tempting it was to create her own ending. She didn’t dare. Life had disappointed her too many times to invite more heartache.
“More than that to the club?” Laughing was a far better option than tearing herself apart over Linus’s possible feelings for her.
“Yes.” He emphasized the word all out of proportion. “You are drafting our bylaws, after all. The club depends upon you.”
“I will fulfill my duties to the best of my ability.”
Still sitting casually in his seat, he snapped her a very smart salute. “I have every confidence in you.”
“I thank you, Lieutenant Lancaster.”
His mouth twisted. “I miss being called that.” There was loneliness in the admission.
Her heart ached for him. “We could make it a club rule that you are always called Lieutenant Lancaster during meetings.”
His smile was one of gratitude more than anything else. “What ought we to call you?”
“I’ve never been called anything but Miss Hampton or Arabella.”
“You could be Captain Hampton.” He laughed. “The tongue gets a bit caught on that.”
“If I’m a captain, don’t I outrank you?”
“Do you mean to start giving me orders?”
She nodded solemnly. “Of course. I will be insufferable.”
“Excellent.”
Seeing him lighthearted once more lifted her spirits.
“What is your first order, Captain?”
“I will require you to reread your text on switching out crops,” she said. “I have heard a rumor that you were sleeping at that point.”
His features settled in an expression of distaste. “Couldn’t you just have me flogged instead?”
“Do you really dislike the topic of land management so much?”
He pushed out a heavy breath. “I probably wouldn’t mind the reading if it weren’t the predecessor to being a staid, boring landowner.”
“If you will be miserable in that role . . .” She wasn’t certain how to end the thought. She wouldn’t suggest he walk away from his duties, yet she hated the thought of him being unhappy.
“The land was my father’s,” he said. “The home was my family’s. I won’t leave it to the care of yet another steward. I will do what is expected of me.”
“But you will be unhappy.”
“I am not a man of many talents,” he said, “but I have a knack for finding satisfaction even in less-than-ideal circumstances. I’ll manage it again somehow.”
“Would you rather be at sea?”
He thought on it a moment. “At the risk of sounding terribly demanding—”
“It’s far too late for that, Lieutenant.”
He snorted. “You’re troublesome, do you know that?” It was a good-natured remark, one filled with cheer.
“What is your ‘terribly demanding’ position on being a landowner versus returning to sea?”
“Only that I think I would be happier in a role I chose for myself. I’ve never been granted that. I went to sea all those years ago because my family was destitute. I’m returning to land now because I am the only son my family has left.”
How well she understood his frustration. “Life is far more difficult when one is forced onto a path not of one’s choosing.”
He nodded slowly. “I’d feel a little less helpless if I had choices.”
“You may not have an alternate path,” she said, “but you can choose how you intend to walk the one you are on. Find a way to make life more your own, something more appealing and familiar to you, something you can feel excited about.”
He made a show of pondering. “How difficult would it be to rebuild the family home as a ship of the line?”
“Easiest thing in the world,” she said with a laugh.
“Do you know, I’m beginning to doubt the dowager’s word. She told me you were terribly quiet, and she never once mentioned how funny you are.”
She must have blushed all the way to her hairline. “Most people would say I am quiet. I don’t know that I’ve ever been described as funny.”
That seemed to surprise him. Why would it?
“Perhaps it is the result of your influence on me,” she suggested.
He fought back a smile. “Are you saying I’m loud?”
“I’m certainly not saying you’re funny.”
He laughed. How she loved the sound, especially knowing she had inspired it. A closeness had developed between them during the days of her convalescence. He visited her regularly. They talked and laughed. Despite her illness, she smiled more than she had in recent memory. What would she do when he left for Shropshire?
“I can see your thoughts are wandering,” he said, “no doubt back to the land treatise. I can begin reading it if you’d like.” His humor faded a bit. “Or I could go, if you’d prefer to rest.”
She shook her head no. In a voice just louder than a whisper, she said, “I’d like you to stay.”
A sparkle entered his eyes. He leaned forward in his chair. His fingers brushed the very edge of hers. She tried to breathe, but her lungs fought the effort. His hand slid over hers, their fingers intertwining. Her pulse thrummed through her.
They sat thus—hands held—for long minutes, talking, smiling, enjoying each other’s company. Only when the time came for her to take the prescribed tisane did he rise to leave. Watching him go, her heart sank. Her gaze remained on the door, hoping to see him step inside again. As the day wore on, she watched for him, longing for his company. She, who had been so alone for so long, had found someone with whom she felt she belonged.
* * *
Under normal circumstances, Linus would have more or less enjoyed an evening of impromptu dancing and interacting with guests. Though he was not the most social of gentlemen, he did appreciate conversation and friendly company.
But Mrs. Blackbourne had been on his scent for hours. Dodging her required more of his time and effort than he would have preferred to spend. The remainder of his energy he poured into helping Harry ease their brother-in-law’s misery in order to lessen Persephone’s worries. He would rather have spent the evening talking with Arabella. Holding her hand. Seeing her smile.
His visits with her the past few days had been the highlight of the house party for him. She enjoyed his stories of the sea, and though she had never left the immediate vicinity of Collingham, she was an observer of people and nature and had shared with him fascinating stories of her own. She helped him sort out his difficulties, and he hoped he had offered her support in return.
Now, four days after the onset of her fever, she was recovered enough to have joined the gathering, though she did not participate. Scorseby had spent nearly the entire evening glued to her side, occupying the only chair near Arabella’s. Linus didn’t fully trust hims
elf to be civil to the interloping physician, so he’d kept something of a distance.
His attention, however, remained on Arabella. Her coloring had not entirely returned to a hale and hearty hue. She tucked her hands under her lap blanket as if to warm them. More worrying than the lingering hints of illness, she looked tired. Did Scorseby not see it? He was a man of medicine. How could he continue to tax her as he was? Did he not care at all for her well-being?
A couple approached Arabella and Scorseby, striking up a conversation Linus could not possibly overhear. Who were they? Arabella did not appear particularly pleased to see them.
Scorseby rose, offering a bow to the couple, then one to Arabella. Then he walked away, leaving her in the company of the as-yet-unidentified lady and gentleman. She did not look at all comfortable with the arrangement. Linus inched closer, attempting to sort out the situation.
Charlie happened past in that moment. Linus held him back. “Who is that talking with Miss Hampton?”
A quick look. “Her aunt and uncle.”
Hence the displeasure on Arabella’s face. She had mentioned before that her relatives were not always kind.
Something was said that left her paler than she was already. She shook her head vehemently. Her uncle pointed a finger. Her aunt leaned in and said something further. How could Linus intervene without drawing attention?
Perhaps the dowager might step in.
Arabella’s uncle snatched her arm and pulled her to a stand, her lap blanket slipping to the floor. She attempted to bend to pick it up, but her aunt propelled her forward, away from the chair she had occupied. Her gaze darted about the room, searching, he would guess, for an escape. Her look of discomfort had changed to one of worry.
Linus sprang into action. He would make absolutely certain Arabella was safe and free of her aunt and uncle. No one would be permitted to cause her misery while he was in a position to intervene.
Linus spotted Adam not far distant and crossed to him immediately. A man of the navy, he understood the importance of assembling the right fleet. Something of the urgent nature of the situation must have shown in his face because Adam was on his feet by the time Linus reached him.
“Miss Hampton’s been dragged from the room by her aunt and uncle,” Linus said. “Multiple sources have told me they’re not kind people.”
“Say no more.” Adam caught Harry’s eye and, with a flick of his hand, motioned for their brother-in-law to join the rescue mission.
Linus took charge. “She passed through this door.” He led them in that direction.
Lord Lampton crossed their path. “What’s happened?” He eyed them all in turn.
“I saw Miss Hampton forcibly removed from the drawing room,” Linus said. “She looked nearly panicked.”
Lampton glanced over the room. “Where are her aunt and uncle?”
“They did the removing,” Linus said through a tense jaw.
Lampton nodded firmly and joined their brigade.
A moment later, they were in the corridor outside the drawing room. A woman’s voice echoed from not far away. Her words were not clear. A sharpness edged her tone.
Linus moved with determined steps toward the sound. So help him, if the Hamptons had mistreated Arabella in any way, he’d likely not be able to maintain his civility.
A hand grasped his arm, holding back the charge he meant to lead.
“For Miss Hampton’s sake, I’d best take command on this,” Lord Lampton said. “We have a family connection, and this is my home. There will be fewer eyebrows raised.” He spoke without the ridiculousness one usually associated with the frivolous earl. “But”—Lord Lampton met Adam’s eye—“your ability to intimidate would, I am certain, help tremendously.”
“I have never abandoned a lady in distress.” Adam growled the words. “I won’t start now.”
Linus and his brothers-in-law flanked their host as they turned a corner and came upon the very people they sought out. Arabella’s aunt and uncle stood with their backs to the gentlemen. Arabella, however, was in full view.
Worry filled every inch of her face. Linus reminded himself that it was best for Lord Lampton to undertake the intervention. He would support the effort, but he needed to clamp down the urge to rush in. Strategy over might.
They’d moved close enough to overhear what Arabella’s aunt was saying. “I knew you would be a failure. I knew it. You still wander the neighborhood like a vagabond, earning the ridicule of everyone. You’ve done nothing at all useful this entire evening. And to have incurred the expense of a doctor after only a fortnight here”—Arabella’s expression crumbled as her aunt continued the tirade—“pushes the bounds of what little value you bring. They will send you back in disgrace.”
“I am certain they won’t.” Arabella spoke with an edge of panic.
“All is not lost,” her aunt said. “The duchess’s brother has shown something of an interest in you. Why, soon, everyone will be speaking of it.”
Adam shot Linus a curious look, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this either.
Mrs. Hampton pressed onward. “He simply must come up to scratch before you’ve pushed Lord Lampton beyond enduring.”
Lampton had reached Arabella’s uncle and slapped a hand on his shoulder with enough force for the sound to disrupt her aunt’s remarks. “I thought we appeared short two guests.” Though the words were innocuous, his tone was not. Beneath the jest was something far more threatening. Even Adam looked a little impressed.
“Lord Lampton,” Arabella’s uncle sputtered even as his gaze widened, sweeping over the group of gentlemen who had arrived. “Your Grace. Mr. Windover. Lieutenant Lancaster.”
Linus let the title stand uncorrected. Given half a chance, he would gladly summon every ounce of lieutenant he had beneath his veneer of decorum.
Mrs. Hampton dropped a hurried curtsey. “A pleasure, sirs.”
“Are these the guests you were looking for?” Adam’s impatience colored his question.
“They couldn’t possibly be,” Lord Lampton said. “Well-mannered guests would never question their host’s graciousness.”
The Hamptons eyed each other with growing concern. Arabella’s gaze fell on Linus and lingered there. He offered what silent reassurance he could.
“If we have given the impression of questioning your graciousness, Lord Lampton, it was unintentional,” Mr. Hampton said.
The earl was unmoved. “You accused me of begrudging your niece the doctor’s care she needed and further insisted that her only value in my household is as a laborer. You have called into question my adherence to the gentlemen’s code and cast aspersions on my mother’s ability as a hostess.”
Lampton did not mention the heavy hints at Arabella’s pursuit of an advantageous match.
Mrs. Hampton’s solicitous expression grew almost desperate. “We were simply having a family discussion. We hadn’t meant to insult you.”
“Perhaps it was I whom you meant to ‘insult,’” Adam said.
Mr. and Mrs. Hampton’s faces blanched.
“You have implied that I would allow my family to remain the guests of a host and hostess whose humanity cannot be relied upon. No one questions with impunity my devotion to my family’s well-being and happiness.”
Harry jumped in. “Personally, I’m excited. I’ve not served as a second in one of the Dangerous Duke’s duels in ages.”
“Being the well-mannered host I am, I will offer you an escape,” Lampton said. “Your carriage will be at the front portico in a few minutes.”
“I’ll see to it myself,” Harry offered, “though I would far rather have met for pistols at dawn.” He turned crisply and walked toward the front of the house with enough determination to erase any doubt that he meant to make certain the Hamptons’ conveyance was not delayed by even a second.
M
r. Hampton’s gaze slid slowly from his host to Adam. Linus heard him swallow.
“Take the escape Lampton has offered you,” Adam said. “I am not so generous as he.”
“Dear.” Mr. Hampton offered his arm to his wife. “Perhaps we had best return home.”
“Excellent,” the earl answered before she could. “I will accompany you to the entryway.”
He walked with the Hamptons, giving the impression of a guard overseeing the movement of prisoners rather than a host seeing off his guests. For his part, Adam appeared reluctantly impressed. Though Linus had no doubt Lampton and Adam would continue to grate on each other, he felt certain they’d gained a bit of mutual respect.
Adam turned his full attention to Arabella. “I am sorry we did not arrive sooner to spare you this ordeal, Miss Hampton. Linus rallied the troops as quickly as he could manage.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Linus met Adam’s eye. He received a quick nod before Adam turned and walked back in the direction of the drawing room.
Arabella took a shaky breath.
He eyed her more closely. “You are crying.”
She swiped at her cheek with her fingers. “These past weeks have spoiled me. I am no longer immune to their unkindness.”
He set his hands gently on her arms. “This vitriol is not new, then?”
She shook her head. “I’m not usually so overset by it. I’m simply so tired. I don’t feel well and—and I don’t have the strength just now to—to—” Tears choked her voice.
Linus’s heart broke at the sight of her suffering. He did not doubt that she had endured tirades worse than this one. But illness and worry and upheaval took a toll on a person. She was struggling under that weight.
There, in the quiet stillness of the corridor, he put his arms around Arabella and held her tenderly. She tucked herself into his embrace. A contentment he’d not felt in some time, perhaps ever, settled over him. She was a salve to his loneliness, to his aching uncertainty. Did she find solace in his embrace in particular? Or was she simply reaching out to the nearest person willing to offer her a respite? He wasn’t certain he was ready to face the answer to that question. Not yet.
Loving Lieutenant Lancaster Page 14
