The Wedding Runaway (27 page)

Square in the middle of the room stood a bed with rumpled sheets and twisted pillows. The covers dragged on the floor to one side. The bed had been slept in
,
or at least thrashed around within. A nightshirt lay crumpled on the floor as if it had been flung down in haste.

Lydia stepped into the room.

Victor sat sideways to a desk on the far side of the room before the window. His legs, sprawled akimbo, were encased in habitual black
,
but his feet were bare
,
making her smile. His untucked white shirt was open at the neck and the sleeves rolled back
,
and as she studied him
,
her heart beat faster.

She could not tell if he was asleep or awake. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair
,
but his head had fallen forward into his hands
,
blocking his face from her view.

On the writing desk
,
near the burning lamp sat an open pot of ink and a paper with sand scattered across it. To whom was he writing? Had he learned her identity? Was he contacting her father? A bolt of alarm struck her chest.

She inched toward the desk
,
squinting to read the words through the blotting sand. It looked like one line
,
scrawled in an expansive angular script.

She leaned over to blow the sand away. Victor moved. She jumped.

"
What are you about?
"
he asked.

Lydia pulled the shawl tight across her chest
,
trying to still her trembling.
"
Are you writing to my father?
"

Victor glanced at the sheet of paper. He lifted it
,
dumped the blotting sand into its box
,
then folded the sheet.
"
This has nothing to do with you. Besides, I suspect a letter directed to Mr. Hall of Boston would be returned to me
,
forthwith.
"

He opened a slim drawer and pulled out a wax sealing stick and held it over the lamp. When the end was gooey
,
he applied it to the flap
,
and then turned his hand backward and pressed his pinkie ring into the red wax.
"
Do you need more laudanum?
"

"
No.
"
She did not want to sleep any longer.

He glanced at her.
"
How is the pain?
"

He quickly returned his attention to his letter as if he could not bear to look at her.

"
Not so bad.
"
Actually the pain made her jaw clench
,
but she tried to relax and not fight it. A dull ache
,
which she assumed was due to the repeated doses of laudanum
,
thrummed in her head.

"
You should return to bed.
"

"
I
'
m not tired. I have slept too much.
"

He turned the folded and sealed letter over and scrawled a name on it. George Keeting
,
Esquire. Not her father
,
not anyone she knew
,
and an address in England.

Was she an afterthought? He steadily ignored her
,
a far cry from the pointed attention she had received earlier. She drifted over to the nightshirt on the floor and leaned over to pick it up.

"
Leave that.
"

"
I was just going to fold it and put it on the bed.
"

"
I have servants to clean up after me.
"
He stood. The lamplight behind him left him in silhouette to her. Just a menacing shadow
,
which made her step back.

"
Yes
,
well, I am used to helping the servants. My brothers...
"
her voice trailed off as she scooped the garment from the floor. Her brothers often left their clothes lying about and getting everything picked up became a daunting task for the maids. In America, the mistress of the house who did not labor alongside her staff was thought lazy.

He yanked his nightshirt out of her hands and tossed it across the room.
"
You should not be in here.
"

A pain not due to her wound or her headache scorched her heart.
"
I know. You do not want me here.
"

"
On the contrary
,
pet. I want you here overmuch.
"
He raked one hand through his dark hair. One curving strand sprang free and settled across his forehead.

She wanted to touch the stray lock
,
to push it back into place. She wanted to trail her fingers over the dark shadows that had grown on his cheeks and chin. She wanted a repeat of their earlier embrace.

"
Bloody hell! Do not look at me like that.
"

She ducked her chin, staring at her toes peeping out under her hem. How was she looking at him? Could he read her unnatural desire in her expression?
"
I
'
m sorry
,"
she mumbled.

"
Hell
,
Lenny
,
have I not done enough damage already?
"

She jerked her head up. What lure drew her even though he had shot her? But he had said right after that if she had not moved he would have missed. She put her hand to her shoulder.
"
You did not mean to shoot me
,
did you?
"

"
I never mean to cause damage
,
but I always do.
"
He planted his hands on his lean hips.

The bed showed evidence of tossing and turning
,
rather than peaceful slumber.
"
I do not think you are my enemy.
"

"
Not your enemy
,
but not good for you either.
"

She shrugged.
"
No worse for me than those who are held out to be for my best interests.
"

The moment teemed with energy
,
yet it was quiet and intimate in the soft lamplight
,
with a disordered bed so very near them. What would it be like to share a bed with him? But this was his wife
'
s bedroom. Would he think of her?

Restless
,
Lydia pattered toward the window. Her instinct was to straighten the bedcovers
,
but Victor had reacted so strongly to picking up his sleeping clothes that she felt she trespassed upon his privacy.

She realized now why the quiet sounded so complete. The rain had stopped.

"
Is it not time for you to tell me what you are running from?
"
he asked.

She pulled back the drape to look outside. No visible stars or moon
,
the darkness a cavern. Was there any point in keeping it secret?
"
My wedding.
"

"
Mmm.
"

Silence settled over the room
,
like a comfortable blanket. She tensed, waiting for the next question
,
for the belittling of her reasons
,
which did not sound so important
,
even to her. But he did not ask.

Lydia let the drapery slide from her clasp.
"
Do you miss her?
"

"
Who?
"

"
Your wife. This was her room
,
was it not?
"

He did not answer for a long time
,
and she suspected she had offended him. She turned around. He stared at the bed.

"
At times I miss her
,
other times I don
'
t. I hope she is at peace now.
"

That answer told her so little. Did sleeping in his wife
'
s bed disturb his rest? Were those the times he missed? She leaned back against the window
,
feeling the coolness of the glass through the heavy curtains.

"
Would you be more comfortable sleeping in your own bed? I could make use of another room
,
or this one.
"
She gestured toward the rumpled bed.
"
It does not look as if you sleep well in here.
"

He turned and stared at her.
"
Possibly because I have never slept in here before.
"

He had never slept in his wife
'
s bedchamber? Had she joined him in his bed
,
or did he just never stay to sleep? Heat rose in Lydia
'
s face. Her curiosity about his marital relations was far too indelicate.
"
I only thought if you should be more comfortable in familiar surroundings. I have no memories to disturb my rest.
"

"
And plenty of laudanum to ensure sleep. I have no memories of this room to haunt me. My wife was seldom here.
"

He had described his marriage as worse than hell. Was that why he did not question her decision to run away from her wedding? She could not stem her curiosity.
"
Was your marriage so horrid then?
"

"
I asked you not to speak of it
,
when I said so before.
"

"
I did not realize it was important
,
your characterization was so offhand.
"
Lydia bit her lip. A strong desire to ask him about her own situation welled up in her. She had not spoken to anyone about what Oscar said.

"
I am like that. I speak my mind to those I trust to know when to repeat things or keep their own council.
"

"
I am sorry to have failed you.
"
She had not thought that he had taken a boy he was mentoring into his confidence.
"
I think I would have done better if I fully understood the situation.
"

He gave a quick snort and shook his head.
"
Even I do not fully understand and no one of my friends knows everything.
"

A lump formed in Lydia's throat. She was not likely to still be considered his friend.
"
I hardly thought that we had reached such a level of intimacy that you were telling me your secrets.
"

"
Especially since you will not even tell me your name. And I was not aware that you were deceiving me.
"
He pivoted and paced away from her.
"
I married my wife for her money. She married me for my title. Although I did my best to make my marriage work
,
it was inevitable that I would wound her.
"

Had he been cruel to his wife? Lydia could not see it. Had he been an adulterer? She could hear the pain in his voice. Whatever he had done, he had been hurt by it. She pushed away from the window
,
following him to the dark side of the room.
"
In what way did you wound her?
"

He glanced over his shoulder and took a step away from her
,
until he reached the washstand. He leaned his palms down against the marble surface.
"
I made demands of her she could not fulfill. She was not well.
"

Fearing his reaction
,
but needing to touch him
,
Lydia reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. She wanted to soothe him
,
to calm the stormy waters she sensed in him.
"
She was ill?
"

He winced
,
but did not pull away from her touch.
"
Not physically unsound
,
but she had demons. She could not be a real wife to me
,
yet I pressed her again and again.
"

Lydia flattened her palm
,
relishing the firm flesh and bone under the silk of his shirt. She wanted to reassure him
,
that no matter his guilt
,
she did not think him an ogre.
"
She could not be a real wife in what way?
"

He spun, catching her wrist and pulling it away from him.
"
I have not fully made love to a woman for many years. You are playing with fire. I am fair near starved for a good bob.
"

His expression intense
,
his dark eyes bored into her. His chest rose and fell with a heavy cadence. Had he picked a crass term to shock and repel her? Instead, she was drawn to the flame.

Her thoughts spun around what he had said. As a husband
,
he had every right to force his wife to his bed
,
yet he had not. Nor
,
if he told the truth
,
had he sought solace outside his marriage. She suspected he always told the truth
,
even when it was not the best course of action for him.

She glanced at the disordered bed.
"
If it would give you comfort
,
I would...
"

She hesitated at his scowl
,
and her courage deserted her
,
but she stumbled on.
"
I would...
"
be willing to make love with you
,
would gladly become your lover.
Her mind supplied fitting phrases
,
but she could not get them out.
"
I would do
,
wouldn
'
t I?
"

His expression flickered
,
softened.
"
You would more than do. I daresay knowing you are so near is why I cannot sleep. As much as I should wish it
,
I cannot bear the thought of hurting you any more.
"
He folded his arms across his chest.