“No, my lady. The steward has left. He was only here for six minutes.”
She frowned. “Do you know why the door to the study is locked?”
“My guess would be that my lord locked it.”
“Yes, I surmised that as well, but do you know why he would?”
Beacham pulled himself even straighter, if that were possible. “I would not presume to understand my lord’s thoughts.”
Of course he wouldn’t. She tried a different tack. “Has he locked it before, or is this the first time?”
“Since I have served here, that room, as well as the parlor, ballrooms, a few bedrooms, the billiard room, and the larder have been locked on occasion. But I cannot say why, except for the larder, which the cook often locks.”
Beacham’s answer made her feel that perhaps it wasn’t such an unusual occurrence. “Do you know if my husband is in his study, then?”
This time Beacham blinked. “I do not know for certain. Last he called me he was in there.”
Something told her Beacham was hiding something and knew a bit more about the locked door. “I suppose I could knock and find out myself.”
She’d started to turn to do just that when Beacham spoke. “Usually, a locked door means that one should not enter.”
She studied the butler. He definitely knew something. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to go in the study for some reason. But why wouldn’t Darius want her in—
Oh.Could it be he had a gift just delivered for her and didn’t wish her to see it?
She grinned. That must be it. Why else would Beacham not want her to see if Darius was in there? After all, it was the seasonfor surprises. “You’re right, Beacham. I promised Peter to check on him as soon as I was able, so I will head to the nursery. Did Mrs. Clark make the baked apples for him?”
“She did.”
“Very good. He shall have them with his dinner. Thank you, Beacham.” With that, she headed up the stairs smiling.
Chapter Sixteen
Darius stood outsidein the cold and mist, the bright moon of just a few nights ago obscured thoroughly. Instead of the darkest black, the evening was charcoal, the clouds and moisture droplets reflecting the slightest light.
He stood well beyond the light shining from the dining room windows, where he could clearly see his wife talking animatedly with her friends. Was she upset with him? No, not Ellie. She would support his need to take care of his people and estate. Did she miss him? He fervently hoped so. Even now he missed being in her warm presence, so much so that he’d debated leaving—but as usual, his logical side had won. For that he was thankful, even as he yearned to return to the house.
He’d known even as he rode up from meeting with the Gereys that his black mood was taking over. He’d barely held himself in check while discussing Mr. Gerey’s concerns, and as he rode for home, his irritation worsened. He had nothing to be irritated about, which was so bloody frustrating. When he’d entered the house and heard the female chatter, he’d started toward his study, but even before Beacham raised his brows, he knew he must greet Ellie’s friends…for her sake.
He’d barely made it through without revealing his unreasonable anger. Luckily, Beacham reminded him his steward was waiting before he entered his study, and he’d kept the meeting very brief, locking the door after the man. Whenthe doorknob had been tried, he’d frozen in fear as if the lock wouldn’t hold. But it did, keeping the warmth of Ellie from reaching him, or rather the coldness of his mood from touching her.
His heart skipped a beat as he watched Ellie through the window while she threw back her head and laughed at something one of her friends said. Her bright-red hair caught the light and her vibrancy mesmerized him. He could stand in the cold all night and watch her from a safe distance. He’d never expected to fall in love with his wife. He hadn’t loved Dinah, but felt they rubbed along fairly well. That had been his gravest misjudgment. To discover she’d treated their children like she treated him made him want to hurt her, but she was far from his grasp now.
He’d thought having Dinah at Hawthorne Park, instead of letting her live elsewhere, as she’d asked, would be better for Maggie and Peter. How wrong he’d been. He’d failed his children, first by telling Dinah about his black moods and then by forcing her to stay. Why hadn’t he asked his children? If he’d been a worthy father, he would have asked and not taken Dinah’s assurances that she and the children enjoyed spending time together. She’d obviously done it to punish him.
He didn’t deserve a second chance, and yet he’d found one in Ellie. His children deserved her, even if he didn’t. But falling in love was the worst possible scenario. Hopefully, she didn’t feel so about him. He was hardly worthy of her. He couldn’t even tell her the truth. He was a coward, afraid he’d lose her.
Ellie rose from the table, and he watched as she herded her friends from the dining room into the parlor. Her smiles were constant as she hooked her arm with one lady and spoke to another. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her as she played hostess to the others, instructing the footman, talking with her friends,and, if he didn’t miss his guess, setting up a game of charades. It looked as if Lady Georgina was to go first.
Movement in the dining room caught his attention, and he glanced that way to see the servants closing the curtains against the cold night. He yanked his gaze back to Ellie. He didn’t want to stop watching her. She half stood as she made a guess, only to fall back into her seat laughing. He could hear her inside his head, his angst dulling as he listened.
The servants came into the parlor and began to close the curtains. “No.” He stood helpless as his view of Ellie was impeded by the thick peach curtains. He remained absolutely still, staring at the window, willing her to get up and open them. He waited, wanting to see her more than he wanted to live. He was her husband. He could simply walk into the parlor and take her in his arms. All he had to do was—
“Didn’t your mother teach you that standing out in the cold isn’t good for your wellbeing?”
Darius stiffened before growling, “Archer.”
“Who else would be such a fool as to be out here when it’s colder than the top of Ben Nevis?”
