She opened her mouth, but no words came out, so she nodded.
His hand moved to her cheek and he softly cupped it before kissing her. His warm lips brushed gently against hers, yet she felt the kiss all the way to her toes. Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly against him. She felt warm and safe and wonderful. Not even Stuyvesant’s kisses had made her feel this way. He deepened the kiss and Cordelia’s entire body tingled; she knew that she would never be the same.
Someone cleared their throat. Cordelia instinctively stepped back. Behind Thomas, Thayne stood waiting patiently.
Thomas’s jaw tightened and he looked annoyed, but he asked civilly, “Do you need anything, Thayne?”
“There’s a gentleman and two ladies at the door, my lord.”
“At this hour?” Thomas said. “Tell them to come back in the morning.”
“They’re American, my lord,” Thayne said, glancing at her when he added, “and the gentleman refuses to leave the premises until he sees Lady Farnham.”
“What name did he give?”
Thayne held up a card. “Mr. Stuyvesant Bradley, my lady.”
Cordelia touched her throat and felt a rush of adrenaline surge through her body at the very sound of his name.
Before she realized what she was doing, Cordelia walked forward and grabbed the card out of Thayne’s hands. Her breathing was fast and erratic as she read the words again:Mr. Stuyvesant Bradley. Her heart was beating wildly, and she could not wait another moment to see him. Picking up her skirts, she started quickly down the stairs to the main entrance. She heard Thomas’s footfalls behind her, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. She rounded the corner and there he was, hat in hand, standing by the first footman who was eyeing him askance. He was so handsome! The pounding in her chest doubled in speed.
“Cordy!” Stuyvesant called, and easily pushed past the smaller footman and grasped her by her arms, which was good, for she was strangely light-headed and would not have been able to stand much longer on her own. “Cordy, I’ve been so worried about you. Your mother’s servants always said that you weren’t home, and you never answered my letters.”
Her lips parted and she gasped in surprise. “You-you wrote to me?”
“Dozens of letters.”
“I never received even one letter from you,” Cordelia said, momentarily forgetting everyone else in the room. “My mother must have kept them from me.”
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked gruffly, his grip on her arms tightening. It pained her a little but helped to ground her as the room seem to be closing in on her. “I would have married you instantly if I’d known. I learned of your marriage through an old paper of theNew York TimesI came across in Gibraltar. Some such rot about an American fairytale wedding.”
She shook her head and moistened her lips. “My mother locked me in my room, and I sent a letter to you, begging for your help. I even bribed a maid with my diamond earrings to send it.”
“I never received it,” he said, looking her directly in the eye. Into her soul.
Cordelia believed his sincerity. Her best friend hadn’t abandoned her. Hedidlove her! Mabel, her maid, had lied to her. She’d taken the earrings and never delivered the letter. Mabel had always seemed resentful of her, and Cordelia had been a fool, a desperate fool, to have trusted her at all. Exhaling, she looked up and saw bright red hair under the most fashionable hat. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Stuyvesant and threw her arms around her dearest friend.
“Oh, Lucy, you came!” she said, squeezing her tightly. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“And I you,” Lucy said softly. “I should have written and given you warning that we arrived in England, but I ran into Mr. Bradley on the ship across the Atlantic and he kindly offered to escort me and my chaperone, Mrs. Stewart, to your home. We should have sent a telegram first. We didn’t mean to arrive so late or so unexpected. I am sure we can find some rooms at a local inn.”
Cordelia saw an older woman standing a few steps away, eyeing the reunion with interest. The footman Tim watched their scene stoically and Thayne incredulously—gossip would be rampant in the servants’ quarters tonight. Her smile wavered and her chest felt impossibly tight.
“You could never be unwelcome,” Cordelia said, wrapping her arms around herself, rubbing the place on her skin where Stuyvesant had touched her. “We have plenty of rooms, and I have missed you all so much.”
“Cordelia,” Thomas said from behind her, “would you be so kind as to introduce me to your friends?”
Thomas.
Her husband.
She tried to smile. To act naturally.
“Thomas,” she said in a strained voice, “allow me to introduce you to my dearest friend Miss Lucy Miller, her chaperone, Mrs. Stewart, and Mr. Stuyvesant Bradley; he was my next-door neighbor in New York. I am pleased to introduce you all to my husband, Lord Farnham.”
Thomas gave a tight smile and bent over Lucy’s outstretched hand and then Mrs. Stewart’s. He held out his hand to Stuyvesant. “Mr. Bradley.”
Her old love made no attempt to be pleasant but took Thomas’s hand and gripped it tightly. “Lord Farnham.”
