Lucy had come to plead for Kent’s freedom from the new deal, but already she knew Lord Maltsby would not relent, so she had asked for something smaller. Something she thought would be insignificant.
Lord Maltsby’s nostrils flared. “There are powers at work that you don’t understand.”
Lucy stood. She could not stand to be in the man’s presence anymore. She wanted him dead. After the way he’d locked George away, prison was clearly far too good for him. “Goodbye, Lord Maltsby.”
“Wait.” he called at her back.
She turned to look at him.
“I want the book. You may borrow the painting just long enough to replicate it, but I want it returned to me within the month. Am I understood?” he asked.
She nodded and turned to leave again.
“Does Ganden love you?” Maltsby asked when she was at the door.
She looked at him once more. “Why?”
Lord Maltsby held her eyes. “You’d be surprised how much a man can change when he’s lost the one he loves. I hear Lord Ganden is a vicious man, yet here you stand unharmed. You must have tamed him somehow, but I wonder what would happen if something happened to you.”
Was that a threat? She didn’t think so. In fact, he seemed to honestly be asking her a question.
If he thought it an excuse for his behavior with George, then the excuse fell on deaf ears. However, if he’d been leaving her food for thought then he’d failed on that account as well.
For Kent didn’t love and her and never would.
∫ ∫ ∫
3 5
* * *
When Lucy returned to the house, she found George and Kent in the drawing room. Kent read a newspaper while George played on the floor with his toys.
The home’s repairs were finally complete and new furniture would be arriving soon. Lucy had already dressed up the drawing room, choosing calming blue shades that reminded her of portraits of the sea.
Kent, upon seeing her, put down his paper and crossed to her.
“Aunt Lucy!” George beat Kent to her side and wrapped his arms around her.
He was speaking, but yet again, Lucy found herself distracted by Kent’s cool expression.
“George.” Kent touched his head. “Give your aunt and me some time alone.”
George nodded and moved away. “Shall I close the door?”
Kent chuckled. “Yes, George. Thank you. Oh, and tell Mr. Charles he is free to leave.”
George closed them in.
Kent’s expression became hard as he looked at her.
Lucy opened her mouth, but his hand came up and silenced her.
“I’m going to try not to shout at you.” he said. “I will also try and not break anything in this room, but in order for that to be accomplished, you are going to let me speak, you are going to answer my questions the first time I ask you, and you are not going to give me any trouble. Is that understood?”
Her heart was skipping every other beat as she nodded. Already she was feeling light headed with worry.
Kent placed his hands on his hips. “Never again do I want to wake up and find that no one in this house knows where you are. This city is dangerous and with everything that is going on with Mr. Maltsby, disappearing is the last thing I need you to be doing. Is that understood?”
Immediately, she understood the root of his anger. He worried about her being taken, which was a possibility.
“I’m sorry.” she whispered. “I—”
He grabbed her face and leaned close. Fear was reflected in his gaze. “Is that understood?”
Her belly flipped. He may never love her, but he clearly cared. “Yes.”
He brushed back one of her curls. His touch was soft. He sighed. “Where were you?”
She hesitated.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Newgate.” she whispered.
A look of surprise crossed his face before he grimaced. “You went to see Lord Maltsby.”
“Yes.”
“To ask him to tell his son to leave us alone.” he went on.
“Yes, but I didn’t.” she said. “I asked him for something else.”
Kent paused again and then asked, “What did you ask for?”
“A painting of Jessica. He’s agreed to loan it to me in exchange for Jessica’s journal.”
“He’s going to loan you the painting?” he asked in confusion.
She nodded. “So that I may have it replicated.”
“So, you’ll need a painter.” Kent said.
She shook her head as best she could, considering the hold Kent had on her. “No, I was thinking to do it myself.”
Kent blinked. “You paint?”
She stared at him, nearly surprised he didn’t know since she’d painted at Mr. Goody’s house. Then she remembered why he wouldn’t know. She’d kept her entire life a secret from him, including those things she loved most. “Yes, I love to paint.”
Emotions passed over his face. “I know nothing about you, Lucy. That is my fault. I didn’t ask. I will fix that this evening. You and I are going to have dinner alone. You’ll tell me everything then.”
“All right.”
He cupped the back of her head and pressed his mouth to hers. She opened underneath him, and his tongue swept in before he pulled away.
He stared at her. “I can’t remember if there is anything else I should say.”
She pressed her hands into his chest and waited, but her mind was already elsewhere.
“Oh, yes, no more visits to Newgate. I will handle the exchange.”
“All right.”
He sighed. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me? Anything you want to discuss?”
She wondered if she should mention everything she’d learned from Lord Maltsby. The private investors, the fact that Maltsby might be living in a little paradise inside of Newgate.
Then she thought better of it. “No. Nothing.” In time, the courts would find Maltsby guilty of his crime and he’d either hang or be sent to Australia. There was no reason to get Kent enraged for nothing.
* * *
“Are you enjoying the wine?” Kent asked Lucy as he poured what had to be her third glass.
She stared at her cup and sighed. “I’ve never drank like this before. I never wanted to do so in front of George and before that it was never safe.”
She felt safe now was what she’d just told Kent in so many words and he was glad.
“Do you mind?” she asked. “I know it’s terribly unladylike.”
He shrugged. He had no clue what was unladylike. “I don’t believe I’m the best judge of what the ton deems right and wrong. Did you grow up in the city?”
She seemed nervous and was sipping with slight greed. “Yes. I’m almost surprised we never ran into one another. Our fathers were both earls.”
“I was not allowed to participate in…anything,” Kent said. “But I’m glad we hadn’t met before Mr. Goody’s house. You’d have despised me if you hadn’t been forced to endure my company.”
Her gold gaze flickered up to him over the rim of her glass. “I was never forced to endure your company. I chose to be with you at Mr. Goody’s house. Never think otherwise.”
He supposed she was right. She could have chosen Astlen. He was far more charming than Kent ever would be.
The other lords likely all had more appeal than him. Even Coalwater, with his eyes that could speak volumes even if his mouth never said a word, could likely catch more women than Kent could. But Lucy had chosen to share his bed and then she’d chosen to share her body with him.
“Why did you choose me?” Kent asked.
She put her glass down and turned to her chicken. Her eyes were now focused on her meal. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Was it pity?” Kent asked. A week ago, he’d not been above accepting her pity, but now…He wanted more from Lucy.
“It wasn’t pity.” She looked up. “There was just something about you that c
alled to me.”
“You like fixing broken things.” he said.
“Perhaps, I did notice you needed something more from me.” She smiled. “And apparently, I’ve some fixation with dangerous things as well.”
He grinned and fought to hide a blush. “I could never hurt you. I’d tear the world around you apart, but you and George are safe.”
She reached out and took his hand.
They stayed that way until Kent said, “The house is starting to fill, and I’ve seen the orders, yet my pockets aren’t empty.”
She laughed. “I may have learned how to bargain someone down on a price while working for Lord Maltsby. The world has a different view as a servant.”
“You’ll never have that view again.” he told her.
“I know. My world is completely safe.” she teased.
His smile fell as he wrapped his fingers around hers. “So long as there is darkness in the world, it will never be safe.” Men like Lord Maltsby…men like his own father…crushed the very blooms of happiness underneath their mighty feet.
Lucy’s expression became somber. “I suppose you are right. The world has very ugly people in it.”
“Did Lord Maltsby threaten you?” Kent asked.
She shook her head. “I think…the only reason he never hurt me physically was because he knew how much Jessica loved me. Many times, I tried to sacrifice myself for George, but he never allowed it. I think I’m only beginning to understand him now. He blames George for my sister’s death.”
Kent knew that some men could become severely weakened by the death of their wives. Kent himself had gone mad when he couldn’t find Lucy and they’d not even been wed. Still, it was no excuse to hurt a child.
He gathered that she and Lord Maltby must have spoken at length while they’d been together. Then he thought of the painting and the book. Lord Maltsby was in prison. Kent could understand how a prisoner could get a book but a painting? “How big is this portrait of your sister?”
Lucy shrugged and then turned to look at the large portrait of his grandfather that hung over the fireplace. It was half the height of Kent. “About that big.”
“And it’s at Lord Maltsby’s home?” Kent asked.
Lucy shook her head. “He…has it with him.”
“At Newgate?” he asked incredulously.
∫ ∫ ∫
3 6
* * *
Kent hoped Lucy was mistaken on the location of the painting of her sister. It made no sense for a prisoner to have such a prized object with him in Newgate. The place was known as one the worst places in the world. Lord Maltsby was suppose to be suffering. “Was he not at all suffering?”
Lucy stared at him. “I thought this conversation was supposed to be about me.”
She was right, but now Kent was distracted. Just what other finery had Lord Maltsby been allowed to keep in his cell? Was the man even sleeping in a cell? Newgate had chambers for the wardens. It made sense if that was the reason none of the men could manage to get close to him.
Yet Lucy had been allowed to see him.
“How did he look?” Kent asked.
“That is another question that has nothing to do with me.” She sighed. “Here, let me help you. Would you like to hear about my first kiss?”
“Definitely not.” Kent snapped.
“Then perhaps my second.” She gave him a teasing grin.
But Kent was not amused. “Who are these men? Are they still alive?”
She laughed almost like a madwoman. “Of course, they’re still alive, Kent. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Are they still…friends of yours?” he asked.
She shook her head. “One of them was never my friend. The other…I was supposed to marry the other, but he’s married now. You’ve nothing to worry about. Besides…” She looked away and continued to move her food around her plate.
“Besides?” he pressed.
“I’ve been little more than a servant these last few years.” she said. “I hardly qualify to be a countess, much less a duchess.”
“Duchess?” He lifted a brow. “You were to marry a duke? Your mother stopped you from wedding a duke?” Was she mad? Were they both mad?
He recalled her story from all those many years ago. “I thought you’d been speaking of a minor lord, not a titled gentleman, surely not a duke.”
“Why?” She held his eyes. “You don’t think a duke would want me?”
“I know for a fact Astlen wanted you at Mr. Goody’s home.” Then Kent stilled. “Was it...?” He didn’t care how much time had passed. He’d kill Astlen if he’d touched Lucy.
“No.” she rushed in. “It was someone else.”
He moved them to another topic, because this one was bound to drive him to drink. “Tell me about your childhood. About Jessica.”
She smiled wistfully. “Jessica was sunshine.” She closed her eyes. “She was the very best person in the whole world.”
Kent took in the sincerity of her features in the soft dinner light. “I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”
She opened her eyes. “She would have liked you.”
Kent leaned away. “I doubt it.”
Lucy leaned forward. “No, I’m sure of it. I’m more like her than I realized at first. She liked danger and so do I, but I chose better. You’re nothing like Lord Maltsby.”
He was glad to hear it. “What was her reaction to carrying George?”
Lucy looked up. “At first, she was happy. She thought finally Lord Maltsby would propose, but when he didn’t, she was devastated. She could have easily died of a broken heart as much as from childbirth.” She turned back to her food. “I hate that Jessica died believing Lord Maltsby didn’t wish to marry her. The decision hadn’t been his to make, or so he claims. Though, I don’t understand what sort of investor can stop a man from marrying who he loves.”
“Maltsby didn’t marry your sister because of an investor?” Kent asked.
Lucy looked up and her lips parted in shock. Then she closed her mouth before it gaped again. She reminded him of a freshly-caught fish. Then she straightened and smiled. “That’s what he said. Likely someone’s daughter wanted him for herself.”
“Likely.” Kent agreed. “Though, he’d have remarried if that were the case, wouldn’t he?”
Lucy shrugged. “Plans have been known to change. I was to be a duchess.”
“But you settled for being a countess.” he murmured.
She smiled. “Lucky me.”
* * *
Was she lucky? Kent considered, but his thoughts were cut off by a distant scream, the sound so gut wrenching that it held the ability to sever his heart from his chest. It slowed his blood and forced his muscles to lock in on themselves. There was pain and true terror, and it was coming from George.
Kent was out of his chair and had Lucy’s hand in his as they rushed from the room.
They reached George’s room just as Lady Nora did. The woman was in her night rail and a robe, and her expression was a mixture of surprise and exhaustion.
“Return to bed.” Lucy told the woman over George’s screaming. “We’ll handle this.” She turned to Kent. “Unless you rather I go alone?” She looked worried.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You had it right the first time. We’ll go together.” To Lady Nora, he said, “Goodnight.”
The governess turned to leave, but neither Kent nor Lucy stopped to watch.
They were in George’s room in seconds and found the boy in the middle of his bed, but he was only a mixture of shadows, which made it impossible to see what was going on. Kent lit a lamp and lifted it just as Lucy climbed onto the bed and took the boy in her arms. George’s eyes were closed, but at the feel of Lucy’s arms, he burrowed his face in her neck. Yet the sobbing did not cease.
Kent’s heart seemed to be thumping just as loudly as George’s screams. He couldn’t even hear what Lucy was saying to the boy. He moved closer, though he was uncertain if his pr
esence was needed at the moment. He sank onto the other side of the bed and George popped his head up in fear. Their eyes caught and Kent nearly retreated, but then George’s arms were out, and Kent’s entire body was jerked toward the boy’s.
“He tried to take me away!” George cried. The words seemed to have been crafted of refined torture. It cut like a blade.
“He can’t take you, George.” Lucy whispered through her tears. “You are ours.” She rubbed the boy’s back, but it didn’t seem to help.
“He’ll come back and take me away.” George cried. “And I’ll be locked in the closet forever. I’ll die in the dark!”
Lucy covered her mouth, but a gasp slipped. “Oh, G-George. That’s not true.”
“It is!” George shouted. His fingers gripped Kent’s jacket. “He hates me. Why does he hate me?”
And Kent, for the first time in a long time, felt his eyes burn with the pain of the past. But also, there was George’s pain, a living thing that beat upon him. It slipped into his bones and locked there, becoming just as much his as it was George’s.
Kent wrapped his arms around George but didn’t dare try to speak. He wasn’t sure this new emotion in his chest would allow it. Besides, what could he say that Lucy hadn’t already?
Kent had come in here ready to destroy whatever had caused George’s fear. He’d have strangled or maimed anything and anyone that had gotten in the way of him and the boy. Yet, he quickly found himself without a battle. There was nothing he could do about the things that went on in George’s head. His fists were useless. Kent felt helpless.
George leaned away and looked at his aunt. “Why does he hate me?”
Lucy was trembling. Her face was red. “He…doesn’t hate you.”
“Not Mr. Maltsby. My father hates me.” George said. “He’s told me so himself.” He was no longer weeping now. Instead, his gaze had become distant, and Kent knew the lack of emotion was worse.
Kent was supposed to meet the other lords tonight, but he would not leave with George the way that he was. He’d not fail George as so many had failed him.
Lucy was breathing hard with rage, her face a bright red and her eyes burned with violence.
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 17
