Chapter Six
Sir Colt Lawrence
I stood next to the garden gate and checked my pocket watch. Although it was a little past noon, it was early for the duke’s household. He kept odd hours, and everyone was hired on with the knowledge of his eccentricities. I lived at the house, which allowed me to be available if Lord Kendrick needed me.
Even when he didn’t, I often sought him out. He was open to me sitting in his studio with him under the pretext of working. In reality, I’d been plotting my novel, hoping I might one day be an author. Inheriting the shipping company would halt that ambition, at least for the near future.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” a soft voice said, barely audible in the quiet air.
The watch clicked shut as I raised my head to look at her. I wanted to put a face to the name. Since his meeting with her, Lord Kendrick had talked about her non-stop. I hated to admit, I felt a stab of jealousy, but there it was. The brim of her hat covered her face, and she clutched a briefcase close to her chest.
“Lady Lillian. I’m Colt,” I said.
She tilted her head and offered me an uncomfortable smile, her cheeks rosy. Lord Kendrick had said she was twenty-five, a spinster by society standards. “Sir Colt.”
“You can call me Colt. Everyone does. Come this way, please.” I opened the gate and held it while she walked through.
The duke had filled me in on his conversation with her and the reasons for her visit. I had expected to see a jezebel, not a meek woman with a shy and restrained manner. She wouldn’t be the first woman intent on gaining an introduction to Lord Kendrick using underhanded means.
Lord Kendrick might think she was innocent, but I would withhold judgment. She was blackmailing him, never a promising start to any relationship. I brought her through a side door leading to the main floor via a staircase, our footsteps echoing on the planked floors.
“The library’s in here.” I led her inside the room where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves dominated the space. Two chairs sat next to the fireplace, a warm coal fire burning in preparation for her visit. The connecting door to my office was open, and I pointed in the general direction. “That’s my office.”
“Thank, um, thank you.” Briefcase tucked under her arm, she moved to the closest row of books and ran a gloved hand over the bindings. The meekness she exhibited fled, and delight took its place. “This is very impressive. I would like to start here and end over there.” She swept the room with her hand.
“You are an avid reader, besides being a writer?” The transformation of her person was remarkable. Her shy demeanor had disappeared. Lord Kendrick was right. She had large, luminous eyes which looked right into a man’s soul.
I smiled without realizing it, her enthusiasm contagious. “In that, we are kindred spirits.”
She turned to look at me, her mouth slightly parted as she removed her gloves. “Do you write as well?”
Why had I disclosed that bit of information? It was on the tip of my tongue to lie, but I nodded. I had kept it to myself lest I never complete the project. Lord Kendrick never inquired whatI was working on when I sat with him. I had a suspicion he was afraid it was related to his duties as duke and therefore didn’t wish to know. His reluctance was to my benefit.
“Yes and no. I have a work in progress, but I have yet to complete my novel.”
“Then we are kindred spirits. I write, well, I wrote, no, Istillwrite gothic novels,” she said with a giggle before slapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear, how much did the duke tell you?”
“Everything.” My face flamed, and I was unsure why. I didn’t want to like her, except I found it challenging to maintain my distrust.
“Oh dear, you must hate me.” It was her turn to blush, and she dropped her head, all the animation leaving her thin frame.
Confusion muddied my thoughts. It was as if the marionette dropped his strings. My heart went out to her. “My like or dislike of you is irrelevant. Would you like tea? I can ring for some.”
“Tea, yes, tea would be nice.” She had picked up her briefcase again and held it close, both arms wrapped tightly around it.
The quiet that followed her statement rested heavily between us. I understood Lord Kendrick’s concession to her whims. She was fragile in a way I hadn’t expected.
She chewed on the tip of her nail before she caught herself. Tucking her fingers into her fist, she rocked back and forth. “Will Lord Kendrick be joining me? He promised to show me some books that Moran published.”
My softness toward her tapered off. Lord Kendrick had been very specific about showing her the library, but he mentioned no desire to speak with her. In the past, I had fielded his callers. She was here by his invitation to read books in his library, not socialize. “No, he asked me to get you what you needed.”
Fisting the briefcase handle, she set it down on one of the chair seats and removed her hat to expose a mass of honeybrown curls. She lifted her chin and licked her lips. With a noticeable inhale, she nodded. “Please point out the books in question. I told my mother I was seeing a sick friend. I do not have a sick friend, of course. Nor do I truly have any friends, but that is neither here nor there.”
What a pathetic creature she was, and it broke my heart. I had a soft spot for the awkward people in this world because I was one of them. Most would say my desire for Lord Kendrick was an aberration. It wasn’t until I worked for him that I discovered I wasn’t alone. His household was full of people like me. “Your friends are your characters.”
