“I want you by my side for life. And I will not grace your bed until you can give me that promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lucas had along night of patrol to think about his decision. He relieved every moment of their time together. Not just this night, but every shared look, every word, every touch since they’d first met twelve years ago. And after all that, his decision remained the same.
She was the woman he wanted for his wife. She was smart, resilient, and she fought hard for what she wanted in life. He just hadn’t expected that what she wanted would be so different than what he did. She seemed consumed by her desire for independence. As a man who had spent the last twelve years learning he had to rely on others, he knew exactly how lonely it was to go it alone.
He finished his circuit and decided to go to the kitchen for a moment. He slipped inside the dark to see the bright tip of a cheroot burning. He didn’t have to say a word before his friend was speaking.
“All quiet, sir. Not even a wolf is howling tonight.”
Lucas smiled. “Do I hear a little boredom in your voice, Caleb? Don’t like Ireland?”
“I was born here, sir. I left for a reason.”
Lucas shook off the wet before turning toward the fire. “I thought you left because your girl married someone else.”
Caleb grunted his agreement. “Ireland’s got plenty of pretty girls. I left because I wanted more than the moors.” He shrugged. “There’s lots more of everything in London.”
“Can’t argue that.”
Caleb tossed him an apple, which he caught. He was halfway through it before Caleb spoke again.
“Sir, if I could ask…?”
“Yes?”
“What’s to happen now that you’re back in the world?”
“I never left the world, Caleb.” It was the truth, but it also wasn’t what the man meant, and they both knew it.
“You’re Lord Chellam again, sir. That type can’t man the door at a gaming hell, no matter what his hand looks like.”
He thought about walking away from the whole conversation. He’d had enough thinking about his future while he wandered the grounds. But Caleb deserved better than that, so he finished his apple and turned back to his right-hand man.
“I haven’t come to any decision. I didn’t mean to reveal myself. It just happened, and now I’m caught without a good plan.”
“Women have a way of making things just happen, don’t they?”
“Ain’t that the truth—”
“But you can’t blame this one on her, sir.”
His brow lifted in challenge, but he didn’t say anything. His look was dark enough to warn Caleb to be quiet. It didn’t work, because the man kept speaking.
“You never shirked once from the hard work, sir. Not once in battle, not once before or after. You were in the mud and the fire right with us every minute.”
Good that they noticed that. And good that he’d done it because there had been plenty of times he’d wanted to run as far away as he could get. “You’re my brothers. Why would I leave you?”
“Nathan’s your brother, too, and you let him think you were dead. I know you had your reasons, but it still didn’t sit right.”
Lucas winced. Caleb wasn’t one to reprimand anyone, least of all his commanding officer. But this cut pretty close to censure, and damn it, Lucas knew he deserved it. He looked down at his clawed hand and was acutely aware of the scar that cut down the side of his face. It was a silly thing to worry about. He knew that looks meant nothing about the true value of a man. And yet, he recoiled at the idea of appearing in society with his injuries.
“My mother doesn’t like damaged things,” he said. “She’d throw out anything with the slightest flaw.” He paused as he remembered all the food she’d refused because of blemishes, the vase she destroyed when she found a mistake in the painting of it, and the times she’s sent him away because his hair wasn’t brushed or he sported dirt on his shoes. But a man didn’t use others as an excuse for failing in his responsibilities. “I should have told them.”
Caleb shrugged. “You were too sick at first. And then busy finding us.”
But that didn’t explain the last year, and they both knew it. “I just wanted to be me for a bit, doing what I do best.” Leading men not into battle but into protecting something of value. And though gaming hells were everywhere, he’d come to respect the people in the Lyon’s Den, most especially Mrs. Dove-Lyon, who was doing her small part to help the people in her employ advance to bigger and better lives.
