The Seduction of Lady X (15 page)

“Good afternoon, Rue,” he said, and discarded his gloves. “Where might I find Miss Hastings?” he asked as he unfastened his cloak.

Rue stopped rubbing. She squared her shoulders. “Miss Hastings has retired. She was in need of rest after all the chatter.” She spoke as if reciting her letters.

Harrison tossed aside his cloak. “What chatter would that be?”

Rue blinked. She cast her gaze thoughtfully at the fresco on the ceiling for a moment as if trying to recall it. “Why, mine, I suppose,” she said, as if she’d just arrived at the truth. She shrugged and went back to her polishing. “Aye, she went up to rest, and then Lady Carey said I was not to disturb her if she was resting—”

Harrison turned. “Did Lady Carey come to the dowager house?”

“Aye.” Rue smiled proudly, as if she’d arranged it herself.

Lady Carey never came to the dowager house.

“Lady Carey was here . . . in search of her sister?” he suggested to Rue, hoping to speed her recollection along.

Rue nodded. “But Miss Hastings had gone up to rest, and her ladyship said I should not disturb her, and she said that she might have a word with you when you’d returned from your pint—”

“My
pint
?” Harrison said sharply. “For God’s sake, Rue, what did you say to her that would cause her to believe I was off having a pint?”

Rue’s fat bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes.

It took a supreme act of self control for Harrison to remain calm. “Why in heaven would you tell Lady Carey such a thing? I didn’t tell you where I was going. For all you know, I was on my knees in church praying for everyone here.”

Rue gasped; her little eyes widened and looked like a pair of pennies. “Thank you, milord! I ain’t never had no one to pray over me!”

Harrison sighed. “Rue—”

“I didn’t know where you’d gone! And Mrs. Lampley said if you wasn’t here, and you wasn’t with her ladyship, then perhaps you’d gone to the village for a pint, for sometimes you are wanting a pint of ale!”

“For goodness sake, Rue,” he said. “Hear me now—in the future, you are not to guess where I have gone. Say I am not within, and leave it at that. Do you understand?”

“Aye, my lord,” she said timidly.

“Sir,”
he said, and strode to the door, catching up his cloak on the way.

“Thank you kindly for your prayers, Mr. Tolly!” Rue called after him.

“God in heaven,” Harrison muttered as he went out.

A
t the main house Brock directed Harrison to the gardens and he spotted Lady Carey by the hedges. She wore a wide straw hat that had slipped off her head and hung down her back. Sunshine glinted in her hair. She was dressed in a white dotted swiss gown with pink and green ribbons, and a green spencer coat. She looked like spring.

She carried a basket of clippings on her arm. A ribbon had been threaded around the handle but had come undone and trailed behind her.

She was studying some newly planted rose bushes, and he admired the elegant curve of her chin and her long slender neck as he approached. For some reason, her profile reminded him of her wedding day. He’d never forget how she looked standing next to the marquis, dressed in a silk the color of morning clouds. A shy smile of pleasure had graced her lips, and she’d peeked up at the marquis, her eyes shining, her expression full of radiant happiness and hope.

Harrison had thought her the most beautiful of brides, and even then, he’d felt a small ache in his heart that he could not have her as his, that she was sealing her fate to Carey’s forevermore.

Lady Carey heard his footfall on the gravel; she suddenly turned her head and her face lit as she spotted him striding down the garden path. “Mr. Tolly!” she said, as if he’d been gone a month instead of hours. “You’ve returned rather quickly from your pint, haven’t you?” Her smile was impish.

He would not disappoint her—he was entirely abashed. “I beg your pardon, madam, but my maid was guessing at my whereabouts.”

Lady Carey laughed, and the sound of it, so light and airy, startled him. It seemed out of place among the events of the last few days, and as he rarely heard her laugh, it rattled old memories in him—of those days and weeks after she was first married, when her laughter had filled the long corridors of Everdon Court.

“I hope you at least finished the pint before you hurried back to your post. Honestly, I will be disappointed if you do not tell me you’ve drunk an entire barrel of ale after the interview with my sister.” She grinned at him.

Harrison smiled. That heartwarming grin was a welcome change after the unpleasantness with Alexa in the study. “Every last drop,” he said. The sun glinted off the braid that hung below her hat. He imagined unbraiding that length of hair, of feeling the silken strands brush against his skin. He wondered how the marquis could look at this woman every day, at her crystalline blue eyes, at her plump ruby lips and feathery brows, and not fall to his knees in gratitude that she was his.

“I hope you will forgive Alexa, Mr. Tolly. She is not usually so . . .”

Arrogant? Thoughtless?

“Childish,” she said, with a sheepish wince.

Childish. A good word for Miss Alexa Hastings.

“The poor thing is truly at sixes and sevens, for I’ve never known her to be so obstinate.”

Harrison was not reassured.

She clearly saw that he was not. She sighed as she turned to a leggy rose to trim it. “I should not have come to the dowager house without first sending a messenger,” she added. “Your girl was a bit unsettled by it, I think.”

“My girl is perpetually unsettled,” Harrison dryly assured her. “And you, madam, are most welcome at the dowager house at any time of your choosing.”

“Thank you,” she said with a pert little smile. “I promise I shall not make a habit of it.”

Disappointing, but expected.

“I had come to see after Alexa and have a stern word with her, but she was resting.” Lady Carey paused and absently brushed a small leaf from her sleeve. She sighed again and lifted her gaze to Harrison. “Will you walk with me, Mr. Tolly? It is such a glorious early spring day, and in spite of our troubles, I cannot help but rejoice in it after such a long and miserable winter.”

“I’d be delighted,” he said. “May I carry your basket?”

“Thank you,” she said, and he reached for it, his fingers brushing hers as he took the basket from her.

They strolled through the garden, Lady Carey pointing out some of Mr. Gortman’s new additions. They came to an old wooden gate that separated the manicured gardens from the park. Lady Carey unlatched the gate, stepped onto the bottom rung, and swung out with the gate before hopping down again.

Harrison’s heart smiled at her playfulness.

“Shall I tell you a secret, Mr. Tolly?” she asked, using her hand to shade her eyes as she looked up at him. “I came to speak to you.”

“Pardon?”

“Today, at the dowager house. I told Brock I’d gone for a walk and then I walked up the servant’s path to the dowager house to speak to you.”

Harrison was imprudently pleased by that admission. “Did you?”

“I did. I know I keep saying it, but you are so very good to us, sir. I am forever in your debt.”

He couldn’t help a slight smile. He was not the least bit good—he coveted another man’s wife. That was the stuff of reprobates, of adulterers. “Surely you did not come to tell me that. And by the bye, I am not good. It is my du—”

“No,” she said, throwing up a hand. “I implore you, do not say it. Do not dare tell me duty compels you to kindness.” She smiled. “I know better than most that duty will only compel one so far.”

He did not want to think about the meaning behind that statement.

Lady Carey cocked a brow. “Am I wrong? Does your kindness not stem from something else entirely?”

Harrison’s heart lurched a little, and he felt the flush of warmth at his nape. He fully expected her to say out loud for God and all of England to hear that she knew he loved her, had loved her, had coveted her for more than six agonizing years. “I am afraid I do not understand your meaning.”

“It is quite obvious,” she said sympathetically. “Perhaps you are not aware that while others may not see your true nature, I know that you are tenderhearted and cannot bear to see suffering in anyone. There is no one who would have taken little Rue in, but you did. You would give up your own happy future to keep someone from suffering.”

Harrison’s gaze fell to the bruise on her lip. He was not tenderhearted; he was bloody besotted. He looked at her waiting for him to speak, to confirm that he was tenderhearted.

I love you.
It was what he wanted to say, it was the pressure he could feel in his chest. He loved her so much that he wouldn’t have known how to say it even if he’d had the courage. It seemed there ought to be words to describe such a feeling as his, and yet he could think of only three simple words.
I love you
.

When he did not say anything, Lady Carey bit her lip and looked away. “Oh dear,” she said. “Mr. Gortman ought to come and tidy up a bit. Edward will be displeased to see so many leaves about.”

“I will tell Mr. Gortman,” Harrison said, relieved for the diversion.

They walked on, Lady Carey’s fingers trailing along the hedges again, and Harrison feeling that old desperation to touch her. They came upon a maze, and strolled inside to the middle. “Will you sit with me a moment?” she asked.

Sit. Yes. Harrison needed a moment to collect himself and reinforce the wall he’d built up in bits and pieces around his heart.

They sat together on a bench that faced an elaborate fountain built around three horses rearing up on hind legs, their forelegs entwined in some strange horse dance. Below the horses, a flock of birds bathed in the shallow pool.

Lady Carey settled onto the bench, her graceful hands in her lap, revealing the tiny white scar across the back of her knuckle that he’d noticed countless times before. She looked skyward. “I adore the spring, with its promise of new beginnings. What is your favorite season, Mr. Tolly?”

His favorite season, of all things. “Spring,” he said instantly. “I like new beginnings as well.” He wished for a new beginning to this day. He wished for a new beginning to his life seven years ago, one that might have involved her. He even allowed himself a moment of imagining his arm around her now, her head on his shoulder, perhaps even a child or two trying to catch the birds bathing in the fountain.

Lady Carey began to fidget absently with the end of her braid. “I am being callous, I know. I am speaking of new beginnings when my sister faces an uncertain one and you have offered to sacrifice your future for her.”

Harrison’s happy little fantasy vaporized.

“You must be allowed to pursue your own path to happiness, Mr. Tolly, no matter what else. I am quite determined on that. And I am equally determined to find a solution for Alexa’s predicament. I hope you will help me, as I have thought on it until I can think no more.”

“As have I,” he admitted. He wanted to reassure her somehow, but he could not.

“We have very few options, don’t we?” she asked.

Harrison had always found her to appreciate a straightforward approach, and decided he had to be frank now. “Very few. I cannot think of anyone close by who might take her in during her confinement. But I could go to London and perhaps find something there.”

“Heavens, no,” Lady Carey said. “If my husband were to discover you there, I cannot imagine his ire. And I think there is no one in London who may be trusted with such a delicate secret.”

“Nor do I, in truth.”

“I know it all seems impossible. But my mother once told me that we Hastings had a way of landing on our feet. She likened us to cats.” Lady Carey smiled suddenly. “When I was a girl, she would use coal to draw a kitten’s nose and whiskers on my face.” She laughed at the memory. “She always cautioned us to never forget that we Hastings girls are lucky, and will always find another chance. Some may believe our luck has run out since her passing, but I am optimistic.” She smiled hopefully.

“I am fully prepared to do as I said I would,” Harrison said.