“Idon’t. And obviously, neither did Mr. Thurlowe.”
“He made his point.”
“Now I’m going to make mine. I accept that you thought yourself in love with my brother’s wife. She never encouraged you, Christopher. You were the only one who believed she had. I had hoped your going away to London would give you some Town bronze and help focus you on your duties and responsibilities. Instead, you learned how to whore, to use your position for hedonistic reasons.”
“A man is a man.”
That statement infuriated her. “No, a man is someone who stands for something. Your father was a statesman. Not a drunkard. Not a prankster. Not asore loser. Kate chose someone else. Instead of proving her right for not choosing you,why don’t you behave in a way to make her question her decision?”
“She is obviously happy with my uncle.” Oh, he spoke so stiffly, so full of misplaced pride.
“Yes, because he truly loves her. He cares about her and doesn’t give two snaps for what other people think about their love. That is the sort of man a woman wants.”
“I could have been that man.”
“If she had returned your feelings. She didn’t. And now, here you are busy pleasing Sarah Belks, who is on her way to catching the pox if she hasn’t caught it already.” Lucy came around to the end of the bed. “You chose to return to Maidenshop. And for what? Christopher, your future does not lie here. Go on, out into the world. Become the man that I know you are.”
“I don’t wish to leave. I like Maidenshop.”
Lucy sighed, confronted with her own culpability. Her poor son. In her grief over her husband’s death, she had kept Christopher too close. “We will always be here. This is your family seat, your home. And I am not ordering you to leave because I don’t respect you. I love you more than my own soul. However, this”—her hand came out to encompass the room, the bottles, the soiled sheets—“isn’t who you are. You are Winderton... and that must stand for something.”
Then the thought struck her—what if it was too late? Had she spoiled him to the point that he might never become what she and her dear husband had envisioned? Had she ruined him?
She blinked back her tears. Now was not the time for him to see her falter. Not if he was to succeed. “You must go.”
Lucy left the room.
Ned knew it was a risk to see Gemma.
Still, he could not stay away.
He waited until most people were gathered around their dinner table. This was the loneliest hour of the day for him.
Except now there was a deeper twist to what he was feeling.
He followed the bank of the Three Thieves until he reached the back of The Garland. One thing the Logical Men’s Society understood was how to avoid detection by the matrons. Coming up onto the lawn, he had to admire what Gemma had accomplished. She was well on her way to having her bowling green back here. He was also impressed with the size and the arrangement of herb and flower beds. Some things were already planted; such was the blessing of English weather.
And then he stopped, his gaze on the closed back door. He had to see her, but now, what should he say? Well, other than he wanted to kiss her again. Heneededto kiss her. To hold her, to be close to her...
There was light in the kitchen, a sign she was home. All he had to do was knock on the door and yet, his feet didn’t move—
The door opened. Gemma came out the back carrying a heavy bucket.
Without hesitation, Ned moved to her. She started as if she didn’t expect anyone to be out there in the night. Of course, after the experiences she’d had, no wonder she was nervous.
She recognized him and went very still. He wrapped a hand around the bucket handle, taking it from her. She watched, her expression wary in the kitchen light.
“I had to see you.” No flowery phrases. No excuses. Just truth. “Perhaps I can come in—?”
“No.” She took a step back.
He sensed something was wrong. “We need to talk.”
“And say what?”
“That is the part I’ve been trying to reason out. So many words flood my mind—”
“Then don’t say anything,” she answered woodenly and would have turned away—
