Hint of Desire (28 page)

But, maybe if he’d stayed he could have brought her with him into that fire
. No, he had been right to leave. It was necessary to give her time to adjust to her change in circumstance, to adjust to . . . him.

Arthur’s
smile faded. He’d been startled to learn that St. Aubin also had come to London, apparently seeking to inquire his standing in regards to rearing Simon. He was determined to be the formally named guardian. It increased Arthur’s suspicions that St. Aubin was behind all the attacks. Could he have killed his own brother? There had been no evidence that Worthington had more debts than usual, despite the sad repair of his estates, and no sign that he’d had enemies. He’d been thought unpleasant, but not worth the trouble of extreme emotion.

Still, there was no evidence that St. Aubin had acted in any way unusual before his brother’s death, by all accounts he’d been shocked by the news
. None of it made sense.

Arthur stopped beneath the portra
it of his father that hung at the top of the stair. The old duke stood without emotion, his powdered face and wig obscuring any trace of his humanity.

Two hours later Arthur strode into another club, acting for all the world as if there was no place he would rather be than here, surrounded by the stench of smoke and soured whiskey. He shrugged his shoulders and glanced around, seeking St. Aubin. His prey was still not to be found.

He turned and was just
about to move on when he spotted an exceptionally large, broad-shouldered form slumped at a table across the room. There was no fat on the man, but rather the heavy musculature of a fighter. He paused, considered, and then walked over. His hunt could wait awhile.

“
My dear Wulf, I heard you’d mustered out after Waterloo, but didn’t know you’d come back to town.”

Wulf raised his head, his blood
shot gaze meeting Arthur’s without formality.

“Yes, I am back.”

“May I join you?”

Wulf looked for a moment as if he’d like to refuse, but then with a shrug gestured to the chair.

Arthur gestured for another glass and then poured himself a liberal splash of Wulf’s whiskey. He waited for his old friend to speak, but when Wulf remained silent Arthur spoke instead.

“This is almost like old times
. If only Tris were here, the three of us could paint the town together.”

“I am afraid Tris is to
o busy for the likes of us. Me, I should say.”

“I’d heard he’d inherited, but
thought he’d always have time for you.”

Wulf lifted his own glass and downed it.

“Had you heard my uncle, the earl, died?”

Ah, this was getting to the core of the matter
. Wulf had not reacted well when his uncle’s second wife, Clarissa, produced an heir, leaving Wulf without expectations.

“Yes, I am sorry
. I know you were in many ways closer to him than to your own father.”

“It is true that in many ways I had more in common with Epping than with my own father, but we had not been close for years
. Not since –”

“
Clarissa produced a son.” Arthur filled in the words he sensed his friend struggled to say.

“Yes, not since then
. This fall, after Boney’s abdication, I returned.”

Arthur longed to ask his friend why he’d left the army, but he sensed the subject was closed.

“I went to see Clarissa, deceitful witch,” Wulf continued. “She had me refused at the door. Didn’t even bother to give the usual excuse that she wasn’t home. I was refused admittance, outright, to the home where I’d spent so much of my childhood. And she sent word that I would be refused admittance on any of the estates, that if I attempted any form of contact, she’d have me removed as a trespasser.”

Arthur reached out to grasp his friend’s arm
. “Most unsuitable. I’d have thought she’d show more decency.”

“Doesn’t matter.
” Wulf refilled his glass, and sloshed it all down again.

Arthur did not reply, but watched his friend with
growing concern. This inebriated hulk bore little resemblance to the man he’d known. Wulf never showed the effects of drink, and they’d downed enough together.

“
What help can I provide?”

Wulf looked up and Arthur caught a glimmer of his old self, then Wulf’s mouth twisted
. “No, I think Lady Luck is all I need tonight. I am off to the tables. You?”

Despite his friend’s grim tone, Arthur almost chuckled at that
. Wulf had always been known for two things, never losing at battle and never winning a hand of cards. You could stack the deck in his favor and he’d still lose.

“I think I’ll leave you alone to dance with that lady
. I’ve my own to worry about.” Arthur stood. “However, if during your entertainment you should happen across a gentleman named St. Aubin, I’d appreciate your sending me word.”

“I’ll let him know you
’re looking for him.”

“Ah, no
. I’d rather surprise him.”

“He’s a friend
, then?”

“Better to say the friend of a friend.”

Wulf lifted his cane. In his grip it rather resembled a saber. “Very well, then. Now, I must be off.”

Arthur pursed
his lips as his friend departed. He hoped Wulf could come to grips with whatever held him by the short hairs. He should pursue the issue further, but that would have to wait. He had other fish to catch and fry.

Chapter Fifteen

Lily stood at the top of the long stairway and looked down the sleek baluster. It was much longer than she remembered. This had seemed a small rebellion, trifling even, but now as she stood here poised – it had grown as large as the balustrade.

“Well,
your grace, are you going to do it?” Gertrude asked, the excitement growing in her voice. “Are you?”

Lily ran one hand over the smooth
, cool wood. The stress of the last weeks had worn her. The uncertainty of her situation left her sleepless and unable to concentrate. On one occasion, she’d even left Simon alone by an unlocked door, where anybody could have snatched him. She’d been sure Sally was watching him, but later Sally denied all knowledge, saying she’d been in the nursery the entire afternoon. Even Lady Smythe-Burke’s solid presence brought no reliable comfort. If the anxiety didn’t break soon, if Arthur didn’t return or write, she would crumble to pieces.

Her fingers tightened on the ba
luster. The temptation to escape it all, if only for an instant, grew. She slid her hand up and down the wood.

“I shouldn’t
. It goes against everything I’ve been taught.”

“Nobody will know
,” Gertrude replied. “You’ve told me so many times how you always wanted to do it as a girl. I really think you should.”

Lily chewed nervously on her lip and glance
d around the hall. There was nobody about. She’d sent Jeffers on an errand and Lady Smythe-Burke was again at the vicarage. She looked back at Gertrude’s glowing face. Over the past weeks the two of them had become more confidantes than mistress and maid. She hadn’t brought herself to share the details of her marriage with Gertrude. But Gertrude’s rosy outlook brought some of the few glimmers of light, apart from Simon, into her uncertain life.

It was Gertrude who’d su
pported this escapade when Lily had confided her childhood longings. At first Lily refused to entertain the thought, but it crept upon her slowly. Propriety had gained her nothing but this purgatory. Her husband had been away for weeks without a word and, for all she knew, could be trying to procure an annulment. And yet.

With a sudden burst of decisi
on, Lily lifted her skirts and swung one leg over the railing. It was time to let go and be free. She gave Gertrude a half smile and pushed off, gathering speed quickly as she moved down the balustrade. She’d never dreamed just how fast it would be. She felt like the young boys on sleds she’d watched flying down hills in her childhood. Her mind released all worries in the sheer delight of the moment. The smooth silk of her skirts met little resistance as she sailed down the perfectly polished wood. Her gay laugh filled the stairwell.

She tried to grab hold as she felt herself losing control, but it was too late
. With one last cry she bounced against the newel post and went flying over the end.

After a long day spent riding hard to make it back before the holidays, Arthur longed for a steaming bath, a good cigar, a smooth glass of brandy, and a smile from a certain blue-eyed someone. As he threw his reins to the stable lad and headed into the house he started to dream. He could almost feel the warm water soaking the travel aches out of his body. Maybe Lily would even consent to sit with him, and he could let her gentle presence ease the aches of his soul.

Arthur’
s weeks in London had produced the desired results. St. Aubin would find little support if he attempted to assert his guardianship of Simon. Moreover, Arthur had gathered more information about St. Aubin and his often questionable activities and lean pockets. As an added measure of caution he had even purchased a pile of St. Aubin’s gambling debts. He would give Lily, as an unexpected Christmas present, not only the diamond bracelet sitting heavy in his pocket, but her son’s safety, as well.

An unusual level of anxiety gripped him as he reached the door
. He was not altogether sure of his welcome, and the edge of his emotion ate at him. He could not bring himself to his usual state of measured calm.

Odd
. The servants didn’t seem to be waiting to greet him. There was no porter here as there was at the ducal seat, but he’d left Jeffers to attend to such matters. Arthur couldn’t remember being stranded outside his own door before, without having it swing open soundlessly at his approach. He raised his hand to pound on the heavy oak before, with a twinge of impatience, he pushed the door open. It swung open with great force. He turned to call for Jeffers.

B
ut before the first syllable left his lips, his eyes caught the streak of blue sailing down the baluster, and terror shot through him. Without stopping to think, he moved to the foot of rail, his eyes filled with the memory of a young cousin, bruised and bloody, who had once been spread unconscious across the hard marble at the foot of the great stair.

He made it just as the blue flash lifted off the bottom of the ba
luster and came hurtling towards him. The weight hit him almost square in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards onto the marble floor.

“You foolish child!
What on earth are you thinking, and where is Jeffers to be allowing such a thing?? The sooner I find him the sooner I’ll–”

The soft lushness of lavender
-scented curls were his first hint. The second was the sweet sound of a feminine gasp.

“I
’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I’ve distracted him. I had to make sure the way was clear and, well, I . . .”

Arthur stared with amazement at the
glowing face of his wife, her up-tilted chin and wide blue eyes dancing as she lay across his chest where they lay sprawled together.

“I
needed to try it, just once. I needed to show I could live a dream. It’s silly, I know. I’m so glad you're back.”

For the briefest moment
, joy rose within him at her warmth. She looked genuinely pleased to see him, far from the mournful Madonna who had huddled in his bed that last night.

Yet
the terrifying picture of his broken young cousin – his leg bent up, the bone showing through, the great bleeding gash across his temple – returned with chastening clarity and brutality. Arthur himself had goaded that cousin on, unaware of the costs of such youthful folly. His cousin had paid a heavy price. Richard had spent almost a full year as an invalid, and hobbled with a stick to this day. The elder Dr. Smithson had acted as if the boy were lucky to be alive.

His anxiety at seeing her met with fierce worry
, untested emotion. His tone grew frozen.

“You foolish chit
. Do you have any idea what might have happened? How dangerous this is? What right do you think you have to do something so stupid and thoughtless?”

Lily looked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“I am sorry. I remember seeing your cousin do it. I remember you laughing with him.”

“And did you ever think to inquire what happened to him?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean. Nothing happened to him.”

“Maybe not that
time, but if you’d asked . . .”

She tried once to defend herself.

“I heard you used to . . . to do it as a boy.” Her small voice quavered with each word.

“
You could have been killed. You could have been killed. How could you do such a thing? You’re a duchess, not a school girl.”