While he tried the lock, I caught Kendrick’s grimace. He was worried about our friend and lover. There wasn’t much we could do but give him our blessing. Colt could always return to London and live with us if things were bad. I prayed he would reconsider staying in Liverpool indefinitely, but I couldn’t ask him to change his mind. He needed to come to that conclusion on his own.
A click of the deadbolt and the door swung open. The nutty aroma of coffee greeted us. It smelled freshly brewed. Voices spilled out from somewhere in the back of the elongated space. Colt held the door open to let me pass, amber eyes skimming my face. I forced a smile for his benefit and stepped into the room. Kendrick, followed by Colt, entered behind me.
The windows on the back wall were free of grime. Diffuse light spilled into a room with desks lined up in a row. An office door was partially open, and two figures could be seen in deep discussion. It was a dismal place that lacked joy. It pained me to think of Colt in such a setting when he should be writing. With me.
“It is much nicer inside,” I said, reaching out and clasping Kendrick’s hand. Since we were in public, I dared not touch Colt. I was glad I could lean on my husband. His sturdy frame and quiet confidence bolstered my own.
He didn’t hesitate but looped my hand into the crook of his arm. The three of us fell into step together. Colt was apprehensive, and by the lift of his chin, he was trying not to show it. It wouldn’t be obvious to most. I could read him like a book.
“Excuse me,” Colt said, interrupting the two men. “I’m Sir Colt Lawrence. Do you work here?”
The elder of the men glanced up, a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. In his shirtsleeves, he wore a bowler hat. He started at the sight of me and grabbed his jacket to put on. “Beg pardon, Mrs. Sir Colt, we expected you a few weeks back. I’m Jones. This is Terrance.”
“I was unavoidably detained. Might I introduce my friends, Lord Kendrick, the Duke of Alton, and his duchess, Lady Lillian?” Colt took the portmanteau from Kendrick and placed it next to his carpet bag, an old remnant that had seen better days.
Jones’s mouth fell open at the introductions, and the air's tension increased. It was still hard for me to reconcile my elevated status, and I was unsure if I could ever get used to the staring. “Your Graces,” Jones said.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jones. May I ask where everyone is? It was my understanding that the business was running at capacity.” Colt angled his head and waited for themto answer. After years of running Kendrick’s life, he was adept at wrangling people. He presented a formidable figure with his hair carefully combed and the fine quality of his attire. If possible, my appreciation for him grew.
Jones stared at him for a long moment, his brown eyes calculating. “It is Saturday. The workers work until noon on Saturdays.”
Hysterical laughter burst forth, and I slapped my hand to my mouth.
Colt turned to glance at me and rolled his eyes. It was such a typical reaction from him; it cut through my mania.
The entire situation was bordering on the ridiculous. I wanted to drag Colt back to London with me. I couldn’t do that. He was his own man.
He squinted at the clock and checked the time on his watch. “I never considered which day of the week it is.”
“We have thirty minutes until our train leaves,” Kendrick said with a grim nod, his mouth pinched. We all knew this day would come, but it didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.
“You can go about your business,” Colt said to Jones. “I have to see my friends off, and then we can talk.”
Colt turned on his heels, his footfalls echoing on the planked floors.
With a reluctant stride, I followed, tears blurring my vision. I was glad for Kendrick now more than ever as we went to stand in the doorway.
“I guess this is goodbye,” I said.
“For now, Lillian, yes.” Colt looked over his shoulder before turning his head to gaze at me. The gentleness in his eyes tightened my throat. Warm lips settled on my cheek, and I fought the urge to turn my head and kiss him properly.
“Let me know what you learn from Mr. Moran. I’m most eager to read it,” he said, his voice husky and raw.
“I will.” I lifted shaking fingers to my tear-stained cheeks and wiped away the dampness.
“Lord Kendrick.” Colt held out his hand, and the men exchanged a handshake. Last night, he had been buggering my husband in erotic bliss. Today, he was leaving with an impersonal show of comradery befitting an acquaintance more than a lover.
“Don’t be a stranger. My house is always open to you. Always.” Kendrick wrapped his arm around my waist, his head down as he guided me outside. Coward that I was, I couldn’t look back at Colt. If I did, I would break down in agony. Life had taken yet another turn.
I had gained a husband but lost a friend, which tore me up inside.
The earlier rain had turned into a mist that mingled with my tears. Biting back a sob, I tore my arm from Kendrick’s, lifted my skirts, and ran in the train’s direction. Heavy footsteps followed, keeping pace with me until the air left my lungs in gulping pants. I threw myself into his arms and buried my face in his jacket.
“We are not saying goodbye forever, Lillian. We will see him again.” He tried to sound confident, but it fell flat. Kendrick couldn’t guess the future any more than I did.
“Then why does it feel as if it is.”
