Luke pivoted at her voice and then bowed formally. Dark circles were etched beneath eyes that closely resembled the colors of the very storm clouds hovering on the horizon. She looked unusually pale standing in the partially opened door.
Even tired and drawn, she was just as beautiful as he’d remembered. He tamped down his awareness of her.
“I—” She dropped her gaze. “I apologize for yesterday. I am not normally…” She brushed back a strand of hair, and he noticed that her bottom lip trembled.
Clenching his fists at his side, Luke itched to comfort her again. “It was perfectly normal. No apology is necessary. I am only sorry…” He remembered how those words had not brought her any comfort the day before. How many times would they be uttered to her in the near future? “May I come in?”
She paused but then nodded and stepped back. “Have you broken your fast yet? It wasn’t necessary for you to return.” She gestured for him to enter a tidy—if sparsely furnished—parlor. “I can manage—"
“But it was.” Luke insisted and waited for her to be seated before lowering himself onto a chair across from hers. Rather than attempt to make small talk, Luke spoke to the heart of why he’d come back.
“I wondered if you had decided on a course of action.” The moment he uttered the words, he realized how ridiculous it was to expect that she’d begun to make any plans for the future already.
But she didn’t seem to take offense. “I’ll remain here.” Her right hand rested on her belly, and she circled her palm over it protectively. “Arthur and I…” She blinked and shifted her gaze away.
“Quite understandable,” Luke conceded. “But Gil’s family, of course, is going to want you with them. And I imagine your own parents will be concerned as well. You will send for your mother?” She was the eldest daughter of a prominent family. She ought not to be alone. Especially with a baby coming. He glanced around again. Something about her circumstances seemed… off.
She didn’t meet his eyes but was staring at the floor. He didn’t want to notice that her lashes were thick and a darker gold than her hair or that when they dropped to cover her eyes, the contrast lent her skin an alabaster appearance.
“I am not acquainted with Arthur’s mother. We planned to visit Galewick Manor after he’d returned. He’d said she would be more accepting of the circumstances surrounding our marriage if she could meet her grandchild at the same time.”
Luke pulled in a deep breath.
This precarious state of affairs must be what Gil had avoided discussing with him that last night. Although Gil had probably had the right of it regarding his mother’s reaction, he’d simply had his time cut short. It was no secret that the Countess of Tempest had always been a high stickler. Luke ought to have considered that this might be the case.
But since the insurgents’ attack, he’d had other problems on his mind.
Luke drew his thoughts back to his current problem. Surely, Baroness Barrington would want to be with her daughter at such a time?
“And your parents?” She was already shaking her head. A hurried elopement had left her more alone than he’d imagined, and yet she was not a shattered soul. He couldn’t help but admire her independence even while his mind searched for solutions.
“I’ll be fine here.” Her voice wobbled but then she lifted her delicately squared chin. He would have smiled at her stubborn expression under any other circumstances. She was fair and had the features of a pixie but he imagined she was often underestimated for it.
As she brushed her hair away from her face, her hand shook and he wondered if she’d eaten anything at all since he’d left the day before.
“Breakfast at the inn left a good deal to be desired.” He spoke deliberately.
“Oh.” She glanced up. Ah, yes. A little of the life that had flowed out of her yesterday returned as she concerned herself with his wellbeing. “Let me tell Ester.”
“Only if you will eat something as well,” Luke added. “I refuse to eat alone.”
She turned, seemed to consider what he was saying, and then nodded slowly before dropping into a curtsey and drifting out of the room.
Waiting in the parlor alone, Luke made a mental note to send word to the War Office, ensuring that Gil’s pension didn’t get held up. Until Luke was able to speak with Lord Tempest, he couldn’t be certain she had any resources beyond Milton Cottage itself. His gaze flicked over the floorboards. From what he’d seen of it so far, it very well might prove to be more of a liability than an asset.
No, staying here alone couldn’t possibly be a viable option for her.
She was reluctant to turn to her parents. Had they disowned her indefinitely? She and Gil had stirred up a considerable scandal last spring. And before that, Gil hadn’t exactly cultivated a reputation any father would want for his daughter’s husband.
In an unexpected surge of sorrow, Luke’s lungs tightened. He and Gil had sowed their fair share of wild oats together. It seemed impossible that he was gone. They’d had a few disagreements in the more recent past but all friends were at odds with one another from time to time.
If only Luke had done a second recon. Or taken the longer route around. Why hadn’t Gil simply sold off his commission after he married?
He had a wife. And a baby on the way.
A woman who’d loved him.
By the time she and her maid returned, each carrying a tray, Lucas had decided he would remain in the area until he’d ensured her situation to be stable. This afternoon, he could send off a few letters of inquiry. He’d request that Blackheart meet with Gil’s older brother, Tempest, personally. If anyone could convince him to take responsibility for his newly widowed sister-in-law and future grandchild, Blackheart could.
