I took his arm and stared at Lord Wycliff, the man who’d just defied Horatio Croome…and lived. “Mama, the baron is very busy. A walk will suffice.”
“Very well,” she said. “Do take care of my girl. Her eyesight sometimes makes her nervous.”
“I’ll protect her, ma’am. She’s all I have left of my dear cousin, her poor husband.” His face sobered, ridding his countenance of the smile he’d borne when he’d entered the room. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“Good. She’s a good girl. She’s had too many troubles.” Mama put down my yarn. “Mr. Wilky’s son, my grandson, is upstairs. He had a fever last night. Too much outdoor play. You will have to meet him later this week.”
“Yes, Adam’s son. Soon. I cannot wait to meet the lad.”
His face remained blank, but his raspy voice sounded confident.
I tugged on the baron’s sleeve to quicken our exodus from the room. I didn’t want anyone imposing upon Wycliff or having him make promises without having met Christopher. He hadn’t seen my boy’s beautiful spirit. I didn’t want my baby rejected.
I tried not to push my cousin out of the parlor, but I did.
He started laughing.
The low chuckles prickled my skin. “Filled with mirth, Cousin? But do you think you were a little heavy in your praise of Adam?”
He wove his fingers with mine, blocking me from slipping on gloves. “I take nothing for granted. Nothing.”
I enjoyed the respect Wycliff’s appearance had brought to my life and the thoughtfulness of a man who brought me daisies. But I wondered what other things he had on his mind.
…
Wycliff tugged on his cape and waited for Ruth to slip on her bonnet.
Her graceful fingers made a slipknot of the shiny celestial-blue ribbon and tightened it under her chin. Elegant, but her gown was so simple, so plain, a washed-out gray that did nothing to draw out the spirited woman he remembered.
He’d have to fix that when she was his again. Was it bigamy to marry one’s wife twice?
Swiping at his brow, pushing foolish thoughts from his head, he focused on the first steps. He was very far from winning Ruth. The barrister might be a contender for her heart. His life was less complicated and had none of the baggage of the Wilkinsons.
Ruth had to want Wycliff, had to marry him again. The squeaky-clean barrister needed to go away. Pity, Lawden had found no vice or scandal on Marks.
Unfortunately or fortunately, the barrister was a good man.
“Wycliff, are you well? You look as if your thoughts are heavy. Are you plotting something? Something nosy?”
“Nothing nosy or deadly today, I can assure you.”
Her head tilted to the side, but she took his extended arm. “A simple no would suffice. If you are busy, we could postpone this outing. I’m in no rush to be out of the house.”
“There’s no other place I wish to be.”
A slight smile graced her mouth. It still needed exploration, deep exploration. To merely gain a light touch of her kiss at the party and then have to wait five days to be near those lips again—torture.
“So how was your morning, Mrs. Wilky?”
Ruth didn’t look at him. She seemed very focused on the brass door latch.
No peep from her when Clancy opened the door.
A loud breath swept through her lips when they took the first step onto the high stone entry.
Together, they took one more, then Ruth stopped.
He tried to nudge her to take one more, but she was frozen.
