Page 81 of Their Brazen Countess
Ros quietly slipped from the room, leaving the two of them alone.
“What can I do for you?” Arthur asked in a low murmur.
“Just hold me and tell me this nightmare is over.” She sounded so small and fragile at that moment.
He gently pulled her even closer to his body. “It’s over now, love. You and Matthew are safe.”
Jo melted against him, clearly exhausted. As he held her, it was an almost perfect moment. Almost because one person was missing—their husband, Linc.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Later That Night
Theyhadreturnedhometo find their guests gone and the staff well on their way to clearing the worst of the mess away. Linc carried a sleeping Matthew upstairs to the nursery while Arthur helped an exhausted Jo to bed. He settled the boy into a bed of his own and stared at the child’s arm, back again in a sling.
Guilt punched him in the gut. Linc had been so busy chasing after him, rescuing him, caring for him he’d avoided the knot that had been in his stomach all night since they discovered the boy was missing. But here, alone in the darkened room, looking at Matthew’s rounded face and long lashes laying against chubby cheeks, there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Linc knew he hadn’t done enough to protect the boy. There was no way around it. He had been responsible for seeing to his safety; he and Arthur had discussed it, and since Arthur was officially married to Jo and needed to play the host to her hostess, Linc was to see to Matthew’s care throughout that night. He had thought it was working well…until it wasn’t.
He was fond of Matthew, loved him as if he were his own son, which made it even more important that he not risk the boy’s life with his carelessness. He needed to step away; remove himself so Arthur could find someone who would be more effective. Linc would never risk Matthew’s life again.
He left the nursery, moved down the hall, and found Arthur still shuffling around the dimly lit bedchamber, getting ready for bed as Jo slept. Linc watched as the muscles rippled over his lover’s chest and wished he could caress him once more, but he knew if he did that—if he touched him—he wouldn’t have the strength to do what was needed.
What he’d come here to do.
“There you are. I had begun to wonder if you were going to sleep in the nursery with Matthew,” Arthur chuckled softly. “Come to bed, Linc.”
“I can’t.” Linc stood there lurking in the dark shadows where the hall melted into the doorway and the light from the lamp didn’t quite reach.
Arthur looked up, surprised. “Why ever not?”
Linc’s chest felt tight, almost painfully so, but he forced the words out. “I just…” Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and stared at him in confusion. “I just can’t. I can’t take care of him, of our Wood Sprite. I’m sorry.” He melted into the shadows, let the darkness swallow him as he pulled the door closed and left Arthur and Jo alone. As they should be.
The pain of walking away from everything he’d ever wanted was soul crushing, but Linc couldn’t see another way. Jo and Arthur were good for each other. Jo was an excellent mother. Arthur was good for Matthew. But him? He was just the fun one, the one everyone liked to have around to entertain them. He certainly was no protector. Not a husband. Not a support.
Linc neared the door that separated their homes and hesitated as he heard footsteps coming behind him. Picking up his speed to evade the person he was sure would be Arthur, he approached the door and went through it one last time. On the other side—his side—he locked it.
It was late, so he supposed bed was the best choice. Linc walked into his cold, dark bedchamber. He hadn’t slept there in years, though the room was kept up on the off chance appearances had to be upheld. Perhaps maintaining the space showed how separate he really felt from Arthur and now Jo.
Had this distance always been there? Linc wondered as he walked around the bedchamber, looking at the things he’d left in the room. A portrait of his mother and one of his father. A vase of fresh flowers and a brush for his hair. He looked over at the enormous bed and shuddered. The sheets would be cold and the bed so very empty if he crawled into it right now.
No, that was not something he could face.
Linc walked out of the room and headed downstairs to his study. This was a room he still occupied once in a while when he needed to take care of business or other correspondence. This room at least was laid ready for a fire.
He knelt down, got one started, and rose with a sigh as his gaze took in the decanter of whisky, quickly deciding a drink was in order. After pouring one, he sat down and sipped it as he stared into the fire.
Yes, this hurt, but not as bad as it would have had Matthew been killed or otherwise lost to them tonight. He was doing this for them.
Arthur rushed over to the door where Linc had just been, pulling it open and looking out into the hallway. Linc was just closing the door between their homes and he rushed after him, determined to figure out what the hell was going on—but when he got to the door, it was locked.
Locked! The bastard had bloody well locked him out!
Standing there, cold, hurt, and confused, Arthur banged on the door a bit in hopes Linc would come back but to no avail.
He returned to their bedchamber and found Jo awake and sitting up.
“Where’s Linc?”
