“Tomorrow, we hope. Perhaps the afternoon or evening.”
That answer seemed to bring him relief. “Good. Miss her something fierce, I do.”
Lucy lifted her hand, allowing him to close the door behind him.
“Are you all right?” James asked, his voice filled with concern.
“Yes.” She wasn’t. That kiss had set her body humming with a need, an ache, she’d never felt before. And the way her aunt had described her to Mr. Blackwood somehow made that ache worse.
James reached for her hand, led her further down the hall, out of view of the foyer downstairs, and wrapped her in his arms. He knew. Somehow he knew without her saying a word that she needed the simple comfort of his warmth, his scent, his strong arms sheltering her.
Tucking her cheek against his chest, she closed her eyes and listened to the steady, solid beat of his heart.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her hair.
Lucy swiped at dampness on her cheek and realized a tear had fallen, unbidden, unexpected. Suddenly feeling foolish, she couldn’t face him and just wanted to return to the privacy of her room.
James seemed to sense this too. When she lifted her head, he cupped her face, swiped at the tear with the pad of his thumb. Then he bent to kiss her forehead.
“You do burn bright. Don’t doubt that.” With that, he let her go and turned to head down the hall to his room.
Lucy watched until he slipped inside, wishing she could go with him. Wishing for his lips on hers again. The day before she’d vowed not to let the man affect her holiday, and now she wasn’t looking forward to outings and sightseeing so much as waking up to see him again.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, James poured himself a cup of coffee and settled into a chair in the drawing room with a view of the stairwell. He heard staff moving about, preparing the house for the day and their mistress’s arrival, but he’d seen none of them and that suited him. From the minute he’d awoken, he’d hoped Lucy would be the first person he’d see.
He’d hated leaving her alone the previous night. She’d needed comfort, and he’d given what he could, but he needed to know what had brought her to tears.
And he needed to tell her that he planned to make a quick trip into the city before her aunt’s arrival. The surveyor Abercrombie promised to send had yet to arrive, and nothing could move forward without a fair valuation of the house and property.
“Drummond thinks I should call you out.” Angus Blackwood’s deep, rumbling voice sounded from atop the stairwell. “Pistols at dawn.”
James stepped into the hall to face the man.
“Unfortunately, it’s past dawn, so you’ve missed your chance.” James wanted to dislike Blackwoodfor derailing his moment with Lucy, but there was an affability about the man that even his drunken foolishness of the previous night couldn’t conceal.
“So it is. Not the early riser I once was.” Blackwood moved slowly down the stairs like a man afraid to make any sudden moves. When he reached the bottom, he arched one bushy white brow. “Swords in the afternoon?” The older man gestured at the fireplace at James’s back.
A collection of blades hung above it. James guessed Cassandra’s first husband, the sea captain, had collected them from various places.
“Cassandra likes swords, so we have plenty to choose from.”
“Swords aren’t my forte, I’m afraid. Is there a third option?”
The man’s lined face creased into a smile. “Will ye settle for an unfriendly inquisition?”
“Do your worst, Blackwood. Though if you want coffee first, it’s on the dining room sideboard.”
“Drummond already plied me with the dark brew and my belly cannae take more.” He took a spot on the settee, resting his bulk against the cushions with a sigh. When he closed his eyes, James wondered if he might nod off. But a moment later, he straightened his shoulders and focused clear eyes his way. “He tells me you’ve come to take my lady’s home.”
“Unfortunately, I have come to take possession of the property.”
“Not unfortunate for yerself though. Inherited the whole lot, have ye?”
James saw no point in dissembling. There was something about Blackwood that made him suspect the man would see through such attempts anyway.
“In all honesty, the lot consists of a title and this manor house and very little else. But, yes, it has all fallen to me.”
