She stood, clasped her hands together, and walked toward the doorway. As she passed him, she looked up. A muscle in hisjaw clenched. She almost raised her hand and cupped her palm around his jaw.
He looked as if he would flinch if she touched him, but that wasn’t what she was feeling from him. He was angry and disturbed, but something else was there, something dark and powerful, an emotion she’d never felt.
Perhaps this moment was not unlike the night at the Society of the Mercaii. She felt as if she were drugged, subdued and silent, her surroundings swirling around her.
“Good night, Veronica,” he said, his accent coating the words with honey.
The look in his eyes, measuring, and a little dangerous, didn’t make her afraid. Instead, she felt warmth spread through her body.
“Will you come to me tonight?” she asked, congratulating herself for her courage in asking.
The seconds ticked by, and he said nothing. Evidently, the absence of an answer was an answer.
“You won’t forget to extinguish the lamp?”
He frowned but still didn’t speak. After a moment, he nodded.
She walked down the hall, only too conscious of his gaze. At the base of the stairs, she stopped and looked back at him. How handsome he was and how mysterious.
Montgomery grieved with such ferocity that the emotion was almost a living thing, hunkered down on all fours between them like a creature from a nightmare. He stood silent and alone, embraced by shadows.
She wanted to draw his head down so it could rest on her shoulder, enfold him in her arms and hold him, and tell him that grief had a way of becoming more bearable each day. She’d never forgotten her parents. They were always with her, their loss likea wound leaving an ugly scar. She would never be without the scar, but the wound was beginning to heal.
Montgomery, however, would not allow her to comfort him. She knew because he turned and entered the study, closing the door softly behind him, a repudiation without words.
Very well, he wouldn’t come to her tonight.
What a fool she was to be disappointed.
She was an innocent yesterday; she would be an innocent tomorrow. For how long? The length of Montgomery’s grief?
How long would that last?
Chapter 9
Edmund Kerr sat at the desk and withdrew a sheaf of papers from his leather folder. He’d been empowered to discuss something with Lady Fairfax, a task he found objectionable. That duty should have been performed by Lord Fairfax. Instead, it had been delegated to him. Edmund picked up the bell, rang it twice, then placed it back on the top of the desk, inwardly counting how many seconds passed before his summons was obeyed.
Not only had it been something of a shock to realize that the 11thLord Fairfax was an American, but Edmund had had to travel to that country to tell the man of his good fortune. He’d also been forced to use the power of his persuasion to convince Montgomery Fairfax to take up the title.
He’d found Montgomery without too much difficulty. The man had been a decorated war hero, and the government of the United States, however much in disarray they might have been after their civil war, was diligent about keeping track of their war heroes.
All in all, it hadn’t been that distressing a journey. He’d seen the devastation, of course, but since he knew no one in America, the ruins he’d passed had been more like viewing a daguerreotype than witnessing something personally affecting.
In the first few weeks, he’d thought Montgomery Fairfax would turn his back on his inheritance, refuse it, and go about his business in America. He’d had to cajole the man to England and through the process of being recognized as the 11thLord Fairfax. Now the man was married, another shock. With marriage came heirs, and it was inevitable that the Fairfax clan would increase in numbers soon.
A depressing thought, but then, he hadn’t been appreciably cheerful since discovering that an American would take up the title.
A maid came to the door, finally, a great many minutes after she should have arrived, looking surprised to see him sitting there instead of Montgomery.
“Will you summon your mistress?” he asked.
At her look of confusion, he added. “Lady Fairfax.”
She nodded and disappeared, all without a word spoken.
He shook his head and arranged the papers Lady Fairfax would need to sign in front of him. Sitting back, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the confrontation.
Veronica’s breakfast was eaten in solitude, an odd event after living for two years in the cacophony of her uncle’s home. Not having to make a concerted attempt to ignore her cousins made for a better mood to start the day.
