Page 25 of Pining for Lord Lockhart
At the time, he’d thought her the most beautiful person in the word and his best friend besides.
“I could never forget you. When I come back, I will prove just how much I…” He’d stammered a moment but when she stepped nearer, and her eyes shimmered with happiness, he continued, “I love you.”
“Oh, I love you too. We shall make the best of things apart until we can be together again and never be parted.” Her arms flung around him, and he hugged her back and at the moment, their plans had seemed perfectly reasonable to him.
But she’d not been as interested when he’d returned. Her response had been friendly but aloof, and he had drifted away from amorous feelings. His exit to London had been somewhat of a relief. He had assumed for her as well as for him.
Until she’d begun writing.
He couldn’t make sense of it.
Was she mercenary? She’d never seemed to care one whit about his title or wealth before. But without their father all these years, perhaps things had fallen apart?
He made a note to ask his solicitor to investigate their financial dealings as much as could be known.
He continued with the letter, no longer reveling in the memories, more feeling entrapped by them.
Mrs.Westchester closed her portion of the letter, “You are as dear as any son to me. I long for the day you become my son, truly.”
He groaned.
Penny’s letter was full of descriptions of the local balls and events. She was looking forward to the Maypole. She asked every few lines when he would return to experience it all with her. She mentioned a new family in the neighborhood, one with many brothers. It seemed to pop up out of nowhere, and he wondered about her intentions there. But then she moved on to the trees and toward the end, she said,“The willow continues to grow. I long for the day we will once again meet there and you can make good on our promises. I’ve missed you. This time apart has allowed us to grow and become prepared for each other. But now all I want is for you to be back in my life. Come home when you can.”
He let the letter drop to his desk. How could she have returned to these old feelings? And her mother as well. And the intensity expressed just did not make sense. They’d not been that intense even when testing out a new direction between them. He’d made no promises. Surely she knew that. And she should not be writing him. Obviously she was trying to establish a level of intimacy that merited a union between them. It all felt very forced.
He ran a hand through his hair again and again, but no solutions came to mind.
Then a knock, followed by the abrupt entrance of Charity.
He jumped to his feet, sliding all sheets of the correspondence off his desk. “Miss Charity!”
His exasperated servant arrived behind her. “A Miss Charity to see you, my lord.”
“Thank you, Hansen.”
When the door had shut, Andrew shook his head. “You cannot simply come over to my house.” He burned with embarrassment at what she might think of his bare home. He was certainly not making any great strides in impressing the woman.
“And why can’t I? I’m here to visit your aunt, if you must know, and I thought I’d see how you were, locked in your study, while I was at it.” She sat without being asked. “Besides, no one is going to think two bits of anything untoward about you and me. They’ll all assume the obvious.”
“Which is?”
“That I am here with some outlandish idea, and you are the only man fool enough to join me in my bluestocking ways.”
“That’s a sorry state for you and I.” He rubbed his face.
“Are you well?”
With one eye, he peered at her from between his fingers.
“You are not well.” She stood like she might approach. He shuffled the papers beneath his desk further.
“I am well, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “I have received troubling news. And you are here in my home. Even if you refuse to see it, we’re open to some bit of scandal.” He moved around the desk. “But now that you’re here…”
“Are you really that troubled that I have come?”
He thought of all the reasons he should be troubled, all the unfinished mess that the letters required, but when he opened his mouth to answer her, he could only respond to her radiant hope with something mild. “You are exactly correct. You could be here to visit my aunt. You are in the right of it. I needn’t worry so much for your reputation.” He strained against his cravat.
“No, you needn’t. It has survived many a faux pas.”
