She laughed and rushed up to him. Paxton threw his hat onto the table and took hold of her upper arms. He quickly pressed a cold kiss to first one of her cheeks and then the other.
“How is my favorite sister?” he asked in his usual jovial tone.
“Youronlysister is delighted, now that you’re home. You’ve never been gone so long,” she said, trying not to sound as if she were complaining or issuing a reprimand. “I was beginning to worry about you.”
“I feared as much,” he said, keeping a smile on his lips. “I should have been more considerate of you. Heath and I decided to spend a few days with Morris Hubbard. You remember him, don’t you?”
“How could I forget him?” she said, helping Paxton swing his cloak off his shoulders. “He always squeezed my fingers too tightly when he kissed my hand.”
“The big brute does forget his gentlemanly manners from time to time. I should speak to him about that.”
“Please don’t on my account. I doubt I shall ever see him again, but it might save other young ladies’ fingers if you do.” Paxton allowed her to take his cloak, and she laid it on the table beside his hat.
“I know I was gone far too long, but while we were at the Hubbards’ house we had a fierce ice-and-snow storm. And this late in the winter? Did it come this way, too?”
“Yes,” she answered, feeling a flush come to her cheeks at remembrance of that night. She would never forget the chill of the icy wind on her face or the consuming warmth of being in the duke’s arms.
“Anyway,” Paxton continued, “we stayed a few more nights as we were invited to a house party at one of their neighbors’. There was the most beautiful young lady there. Miss Anabelle Pritchard.” He laid a hand over his heart and sighed contentedly. “So lovely and such a sweet disposition. I must tell you all about her later. I hope it won’t be the last time I see her. And I think she is hoping I will call on her in the spring, which I’m happy to say is not far away now.” He stopped and his big blue eyes blinked slowly. “But what am I doing going on about ladies, parties,and such?” He reached down and kissed her cheek again. “I’m sorry I was gone long. I know how lonely it gets here for you.”
“No, no,” Loretta said, brushing off his concern. She certainly hadn’t felt lonely when the duke was with her. And with having Farley to care for now, too, she was busy. For the first time since coming to Mammoth House, she hadn’t felt lonely. “I think it’s splendid that a young lady has caught your fancy. I was just worried about you.”
“I can see that. You look tired.”
“Do I? Perhaps I am a little. Come into the drawing room where it’s warm. Shall I pour you a drink?”
He rubbed his hands together. “I do believe a spot of brandy will take the chill off my bones.”
“Good,” she offered, feeling such relief that he was home. “I want to hear all about the house party and Miss Pritchard for sure. And I have some things I need to tell you as well.”
Paxton followed her into the drawing room and warmed by the fire while she poured a measure of brandy into a glass. Watching the amber liquid flow, her thoughts returned to the duke. She remembered him standing where her brother stood now. There was the same crackling sound of a fire, though this time no ice hitting the windowpanes. There was remembrance of the duke sometimes glowering at her and at other times looking at her as if he thought she was the most beautiful lady he’d ever seen. She remembered taking sips from the duke’s glass, feeling the strength of his tight embrace, and tasting the passion in his eager kisses.
Loretta managed a hard swallow when she realized her brother had been talking to her. Replacing the top on the decanter she asked, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said what is it that has you looking as if you haven’t slept a wink while I’ve been gone?”
She joined Paxton in front of the fire. “Oh, please tell me I don’t look that tired?”
“You don’t look that tired.” He repeated her words, laughed, and took the glass. “More worried, actually, which is most unusual for you. I can see that something has disturbed you more than my prolonged absence. Now tell me what it is.”
What should she divulge to him first? The story about the duke or about the boy? Farley, she decided quickly. It was much simpler and better to get it out of the way.
“Do you want to sit down?” she asked.
Paxton shook his head. “I’ve been in the saddle for most of the day. I think I want to stand for a while, but you go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”
“I’ve been sitting most of the day, too.” And without further delay she said, “The night of the storm, we had a frightened boy come to our kitchen door asking for food. I knew at once by the look of him that he’d been on his own for some time. I had to take him in because it was clear he was quite ill and still is.”
Paxton’s smile faded. “An ill child. Good Lord. Lost? Have you notified his family?”
“No. I don’t know who they are. He’s been too ill to say much more than his name. Farley. The fever has stayed with him. I think he must have been on his own for quite some time because of the condition of his clothing and how thin he is.”
“That’s dreadful. We must try to find out who he is. His parents must be worried sick.”
Loretta hoped he had parents or someone looking for him, but each day that passed with no one showing up toask about him she became more doubtful. He’d seemed very much alone to her that first night when she’d looked into his scared eyes. She’d wondered if he’d run away from someone, or if he’d been thrown away.
“Right now he just needs to get better so we can talk to him.”
“So it’s that bad?”
