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P
lease make it stop.
“You go back into that drawing room this instant,” Lynette’s mother hissed. “Even now you could be making a match for yourself. Did you see that crush?”
They’d made it as far as a few corridors after Lynette stormed from the room. Her hand still stung from when she’d slapped Lord Hollingsworth’s face. Oh, dear heavens, she’d accosted a soon-to-be duke! “I can’t return now,” she whispered as mortification heated her face. Where she’d thought she’d been completely over what had happened between her and Stephen all those years ago had obviously been wrong, for the moment she saw his twin who’d come over on his brother’s behalf, emotions had taken control.
“You can and you will.” Her mother tightened a hand on Lynette’s arm. “The duchess has given us a unique opportunity this holiday season, and I won’t have you squander it due to old embarrassments.” Her mother gave her a tiny shove toward the opposite direction that they’d come. “Had you acted with decorum ten years ago, you wouldn’t feel so bad now. Return to the party and take the lay of the land, so to speak.”
In her head, Lynette knew her mother was right. It was silly to run away—again—due to confusing emotions, but her heart couldn’t come to terms so easily. Finally, she nodded. “I can’t promise how long I’ll stay.” She met her mother’s gaze. “Will you come as well?”
“I won’t. It’s late and I’m exhausted, so I’ll retire. But if you can, bring me a few dainties from the food offerings. I might wish for a snack later.”
“All right.” Lynette smoothed a gloved hand over the front of her royal blue gown. Only a few years out of style, she’d kept it meticulously wrapped and tucked away. It barely showed any wear, for she rarely went out into society anymore. “I’ll try to come up early.”
“Stay for as long as needed. If you should catch the eye of a gentleman, do the pretty with him and try to charm him.” Her mother edged away. “And remember, a title is better. The future of Birch House is relying on you.” Then she turned and made her way down the corridor.
Lynette pressed her hands to her cheeks. Oh, this whole situation was embarrassing and confusing! For years she’d assumed she’d wanted nothing else to do with Stephen or any of the Ivy family, yet when she’d glimpsed him in the gorgeous drawing room a handful of minutes ago, her fickle heart had leapt.
Swallowing the ball of emotion lodged in her throat, she slowly retraced her steps. The closer she drew to the drawing room, the louder laughter and conversation grew. Her heartbeat accelerated when she heard what she thought was a guffaw from Stephen, but the timbre was a tiny bit off; no doubt it was his brother Griffin, the man to whom she needed to apologize. As knots bedeviled her belly, she slipped into the drawing room and breathed a quick sigh of relief when no one made discourse regarding her return.
Moments later, she happened to catch the Duchess of Whittington’s eye. One of the older lady’s eyebrows raised in question, to which Lynette merely shrugged. What was there to say? At nine and twenty she still acted the widgeon? I thought I was more mature than that. Thankfully, the duchess didn’t push the issue and neither did she break from her conversation to join her. Lynette breathed a quick sigh of relief. She kept to the edge of the room, not particularly wishing to speak to anyone, and all the while she searched the gathering for one man in particular.
Her breath caught when she found him, talking within a cluster of people. One of them was his sister and another his younger brother, but she didn’t recognize anyone else. Who was the pretty blonde lady who seemed to have a familiar knowledge with him that made him nearly grin at whatever she said? Cold pangs of regret assailed her. Perhaps he was married.
Lynette moved farther away, edging toward the doors that led to a large terrace, but kept her gaze on him. Oh, it was insanity how handsome he was after all these years! Tall with a proud bearing, his dark brown hair parted just so and encouraged into a popular style. The classic features of his face spoke of regal ancestry, and it seemed he hadn’t lost his taste for impeccably tailored clothing. The jaunty gold waistcoat he wore spoke of his exuberance for life while his brother leaned toward a more understated look.
But his form and figure aside, she had every right to remain incensed with him even after all these years. What he’d said about her had caused malicious gossip to become attached to her name. She and her parents had no choice but to retreat from London to Birch House until the worst of the rumors had died. However, she wouldn’t deny that she’d deserved much of that backlash, for she’d left Stephen without an explanation. She’d willfully broken their engagement without a word.
Why? It was so easy to see now with time and distance between them. She’d felt smothered. To marry the second son of a duke, to become a viscountess had seemed daunting to her nineteen-year-old self. His family was large and close; she hadn’t that, wouldn’t even know how to navigate such a tight-knit group. How could she ever hope to measure up?
Though she’d fully thought to marry him anyway, at the last second, she couldn’t go through it, couldn’t let him pull her out of the country, which was the only life she’d known with the exception of her one London Season. Fear had overruled her mind. How could she live up to his expectations within the glittering world of the London ton, to say nothing of bearing the handful of children he’d said he’d wanted. Not to mention the fact he was much more suited to London life than she, and she suspected that, if given half the chance, he would play the rogue to the hilt. Would his eye wander after they wed? How long would it be before he tired of her and sent her to an estate in the country, forgotten? It had all been too stressful, and when he’d disagreed with her regarding family size, she’d used it as a natural break.
And her world had plunged into the darkest sorrow for a time... until she’d met a dashing military officer who she married without a qualm.
Then he met her gaze, and her heart jumped and subsequently dropped into her slippers. After an initial light of welcome, confusion took hold of his expression and his eyes grew hooded. The urge to retch remained strong. Lynette frantically swallowed a few times to keep it at bay. He deserved an explanation after all these years, and she deserved peace. It had always haunted her what she’d done to him, and since he’d never married—she assumed—she couldn’t help but wonder if her actions had wounded him so deeply that he could never trust another woman.
He murmured something to the people he talked with and then he broke away from them and moved in her direction.
Oh, merciful heavens, he’s coming over!
“Good evening, Lord Tilbury,” she began while confusion and embarrassment crashed with her chest in a perfect storm. What should she say to him after all this time, after what she’d done?
“Good evening, Mrs. Hodgins.” He took one of her hands and delivered a kiss to its back, the gesture without nuance or emotion.
“December has been rather chilly, has it not?” she asked while her mind screamed at her to stop the inane small talk.
Annoyance flickered over his face, gone at his next blink. “Is that really what you want to say to me, Lynette?”
The sound of her name in his voice sent skitters of delight sailing over her skin. Once more, he was correct. “No. It’s not, Lord Tilbury.” How could this one man manage to cow her into silly chatter but also make her tongue-tied from his commanding presence at the same time?
He released her hand. “My name is Stephen, as you know.” A hint of a growl lingered in his tone to match the intensity of his being. “Please make use of it. You and I are well past any sort of formality, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” She could barely utter the words from her tight throat. Then a bit of her natural spirit rallied. “You needn’t come the crab with me. What happened between us is in the past.”
“Is it?” When he met her gaze once more, she gave into a shiver. “Because from my perspective, those wounds are still as fresh as the day you made them.”
Well, that was outside of enough. “You were hardly blameless,” she hissed, more than conscious of the crowd in the room as well as the looks of concern the Duchess of Whittington kept shooting their way.
“On that I fully agree, but those cuts remain deep, regardless if I regret what happened now.” He shook his head. “Perhaps we should move to a more private location. There are many prying eyes out tonight, especially after your spectacular exit not a quarter of an hour past.”
Heat sank into her cheeks. “Remind me to apologize to Lord Hollingsworth. That wasn’t well done of me.”
Remarkably, the corners of his lips twitched upward with the beginnings of a smile. “I enjoyed it, but yes, he does perhaps warrant an apology.”
“I shouldn’t have acted on emotion.” What would the gossips say about her this time?
“Don’t change now, for that’s how you’ve always been.”
Was that an insult? She couldn’t tell, for he’d turned away and opened one of the French-paned doors that led to the terrace. The slight draft of chilly air cooled her overheated skin, and she followed when he moved outside. Before she could add to the conversation, he spoke again.
“I don’t wish to argue with you. The anger that precipitated our broken engagement has run its course long ago.”
She gawked at him in a most unladylike fashion. “That’s what I wanted to say as well.” Could it be he’d matured over the years the same as she?
“Good.” He pulled away only to stop at the stone wall. As he gazed out into the winter-bare gardens, he asked. “Where are you at in your life, Lynette? Why are you here?”
“At Ivy Castle?” That was an easy answer.
“No, in Warwickshire.”
And that was a more difficult one. “My mother wrote and asked that I come for a visit for Christmastide.” She trailed behind him, dared to stand beside him but couldn’t look at him. “Apparently, she’s in financial trouble. I’d hoped to do something that might help.”
“Selling pastries.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. How did you know?” It both surprised and pleased her that he was apparently well-versed about her life.
“My niece, Lucy, has befriended your son. Neither one of them have learned the art of guarding their tongues as yet.” A hint of amusement rang in his voice.
“I see.” She’d need to talk with John regarding discretion. “But yes. Baking is a talent. I often do it in Surrey to pay for expenses in keeping the cottage running.” Where there might have been shame in the admission years ago, that had passed. Her life might not be as remarkable as his, but it was hers.
“I’m impressed. Once upon a time, I remember when you said you had no idea what happened within the kitchens.” A fair amount of teasing lingered in his tones, and as he turned his head, the same reflected in his dark eyes thanks to the golden illumination spilling from the drawing room behind them.
Heat infused her cheeks. “I was naïve then. On many things,” she added in a whisper. Perhaps breaking her engagement with Stephen had been sheer folly, for had she married him, there wouldn’t be the struggles she faced currently. “As for life, it’s what you make it. Good or bad, you must own everything that happens, for it weaves the fabric of one’s soul.”
“An interesting explanation.”
For long moments they stood in silence as the cold seeped into her person. “What about you, Stephen? Are you happy?”
His expression drooped. “If I’m honest, no I’m not, and I haven’t been in some time.”
The words pricked at her heart like a thousand tiny knives. “Because of me?”
“Your rejection was but one reason.” He waved a hand as if it didn’t matter. “My father is ailing and will probably expire soon.” A tiny note of desolation had crept into his voice, probably not noticeable by someone who didn’t know him as well as she did. “My twin will be the next duke, a responsibility he doesn’t want and might fail miserably at.”
Daring much, she laid a gloved hand on his arm. When the muscles beneath her fingertips flexed, she dropped her hand. “You’re jealous of Lord Hollingsworth?”
“Perhaps a tad, but I’m mostly concerned for him.” His gaze flitted from her hand on the railing to her face, confusion in his eyes. “The title is nothing to sneeze at and Griffin isn’t exactly taking society by storm.”
“Give him time. He might surprise everyone.” She paused, wondering if she should go as far as to offer advice. “Give yourself time as well.”
When he frowned, she couldn’t help staring at his mouth. Oh, how well she remembered what being kissed by this man felt like! “To do what?”
“Find out what it is you truly want from life.”
“As you did, apparently.” The trace of bitterness in the words further stabbed at her heart.
“Perhaps a bit.” She paused, thinking over her next words carefully. “It goes by so quickly.” A wave of unexpected sadness hit her, whether from her failed engagement with Stephen or the loss of her husband, she couldn’t say. “When you assume that you’ll be happy and content forever, fate yanks at the threads beneath your feet. She hands you a different path entirely, and you’re expected to weather that change with dignity.” Lynette shrugged. “I have my son, and at times he’s been the one thing I live for. The constant that never changes, though I know it will sometime in the future.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Stephen’s expression softened, and in the dim light, he resembled the young man she would have married all those years ago.
“Thank you. Grief sneaks up on a person when they’re unaware.”
“You loved your husband very much?”
“I did. It was a whirlwind affair, and something I needed after I broke it off with you.” Wry grin that felt tinged with sorrow. “Stephen, you must know that I’m sorry we didn’t work as a couple, but you wouldn’t have been happy with me, I think.”
“Yet you made that decision for me.” From the stubborn set of his chin, he’d obviously not moved on from her actions.
Lynette sighed. “Perhaps, but at the time it was the right thing to do.” There was so much she wished to say to him in explanation, but in the end, she was a coward. “I adored life with my husband, but then the war took him and left me with a two-year-old. Eventually his pension gave out and Mother is in dire straits with unpaid taxes on Birch House.” She shook her head. “At times it becomes too much of a burden and threatens to suck me under.” Why in the world was she revealing all of this to him, the man she’d once hoped to share a life with?
There was no other explanation than it felt all too good to be in his company again. Each time the gentle winter breeze blew, his scent teased her nose, and she reveled in that Alpine aroma, the smell the air took on just before it snowed.
“I’m sorry to hear of your extenuating circumstances. That’s rather a string of rotten luck.” When he could have been cold toward her or even horrid, none of that showed in his eyes. Instead, the care and concern there tugged at her chest. Had he forgiven her? “Perhaps you and your mother will find peace during the Christmastide house party as well as solutions.”
“Thank you for the kindness, but life isn’t as simple as that.” Not even at this time of the year, but oh, how nice it was to think about! “At least at Ivy Castle, some of my worries can wait in the background.”
“True. I’m finding the same to a certain extent.” He nodded but didn’t drop his gaze. “In any event, I’m glad you and I aren’t the enemies we once were. At least I’m hopeful.” A hint of vulnerability showed in his face, gone at his next blink.
“No, we’re not. I have not the strength to hold grudges.” She touched his arm, struck again how nice it was to be in his company. “I hope you’ve forgiven me, Stephen. I never meant to hurt you.”
“It’s in the past.” He rested a hand on hers, engulfing hers in his larger one for one fleeting moment. “Perhaps I’ll see you during some of the entertainments planned.”
Some of the anxiety slipped from her shoulders. “Indeed you will, for where else would I be?” Gently, she removed her hand from his arm and made ready to return to the drawing room. “I hope you find what you’re looking for this Christmastide season. You deserve happiness, and no one should feel alone during this time.”
“Agreed.” Puzzlement entered his expression, but for what, she couldn’t say.
“Well, goodnight.”
“Enjoy the rout. It was good to see you again, better still to talk.”
“Thank you.” He’d made no overture toward resuming a romantic relationship, or even a temporary friendship. Were they destined to be cold strangers to each other, with a sad history between them? Somehow, that broke her heart more than losing him in the first place.
“Lynette?”
She caught her breath as her pulse accelerated while she turned her head and looked at him. “Yes?”
“Bring your son along during some of the outdoor activities. I’d like to meet him, and he might enjoy playing with my niece. Getting out of the nursery will do him good.” The unnamed longing in his dark eyes spoke to the same that had lingered in her soul ever since she’d broken their engagement.
“I will, thank you.” It would be good for John to be around the Ivy men. Since her husband died, he’d had precious little male role models in his life, and there were none better than Stephen and his brothers.
Plus, it would give her the opportunity to remain in Stephen’s company, if only on the sidelines. To dream of what might have been.
Things could have been far worse this Christmastide.