Page 17 of The Forgotten
“May I walk you home?” Lord Thomas asked, taking Petra utterly by surprise.
“Really, there’s no need, lord,” Petra replied, but Lord Thomas was already donning his own cloak.
“There’s every need,” he replied. Had Robert said that, Petra would have smiled and conceded, but Thomas looked so solemn that Petra felt irrationally nervous and eager to get away from him.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the fresh air. It smelled of coming snow and wood smoke. The sky was clear, strewn with bright stars that lit their way. All the windows were already shuttered, narrow shafts of light escaping through the cracks and striping the road. Petra could hear the sea, the waves swelling and rolling onto the beach as they’d done for eternity. The ships were nothing more than black smudges against the sky, bobbing gently and creaking like tired old men. Normally, she half ran, frightened of being out alone, but tonight she felt safe, if not completely at ease. Petra was groping for something to saywhen Lord Thomas finally spoke, surprising her with the softness of his voice.
“I intended to return sooner but stayed away once I found out my mother had given you a position in the household.”
“Why? Have I done something to offend you, lord?” Petra asked, wondering if he was about to dismiss her on his mother’s behalf. Now that he was back, he would be her companion, at least until the spring, when he would be off again, buying newly shorn fleeces and searching for new suppliers for his ever-expanding wool empire. Robert liked to remain close to home, but Thomas, no longer encumbered by a family, enjoyed his travels and went farther afield every time in search of new prospects. Or so Lady Blythe had said.
“No, not at all,” Lord Thomas rushed to reassure her. “It’s just that I was very fond of you when you were a girl,” he said. Petra couldn’t see his expression in the darkness, but he sounded as if he were blushing with embarrassment.As well he should be, Petra thought with indignation. When she worked for Lady Blythe twelve years ago, Thomas was newly married to Lady Mildred, God rest her soul, and had no business being “fond” of anyone, save his wife, no matter how uncomely or unpleasant she happened to be. Of course, Petra could hardly voice her thoughts or say anything to offend Lord Thomas, so she said the next best thing.
“And I was fond of you. And Lord Robert, of course,” she added hastily, so as not to give Thomas the wrong impression. That was pure poppycock, of course, since as a lowly servant she didn’t so much as speak to the sons of the house without being spoken to first, but what was she supposed to say? They had been kind to her, that was true, but that was just their nature, especially Robert’s. Petra never attributed their kindness to any personal feeling.
“Petra, I’ve fulfilled my duty to my family. I married a woman of their choosing and was a dutiful husband to her, despite the fact that I never grew to care for her. She’s gone now, and I’m free to follow my heart.”
Dear God, what is he talking about?Petra’s mind screamed. She moved away from him, ever so slightly, suddenly very uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading.
“I’m sure any woman would be lucky to have you,” she mumbled awkwardly.
“Would you think yourself lucky to have me?” Thomas asked.
“Lord Devon, I don’t think your mother would approve of this conversation,” Petra said, hoping he’d get the hint and be quiet, or better yet, return home and let her walk on in peace.
“I don’t much care if my mother approves. I’m a grown man, and I’ll be damned if I allow myself to be dictated to again. I will give my future wife a comfortable life and will look after her children, if she has any,” he added, implying that the future of her children might be uppermost in Petra’s mind. It was, but she couldn’t imagine that Thomas was seriously referring to her, making the whole point moot. Perhaps he was drunk and wouldn’t remember any of this come morning, which would be the most desirable outcome, since it would spare them both awkwardness.
“That’s very kind of you, lord. Your future wife is a lucky woman,” Petra replied, hoping he’d think her obtuse and change the subject.
Thomas turned to face Petra and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Petra, don’t pretend to misunderstand my meaning. I’m not making you an offer of marriage, not yet, butI would like permission to pay you court. My intentions are honorable, and I would like nothing more than to show you that I can make you happy, if you give me a chance.”
“Lord Devon,” Petra began, but Thomas interrupted her.
“Please, call me Thomas. I much prefer it. There’s no need for titles between us.”
Petra nodded. He was lowering himself to her level, so as not to make her feel intimidated or beholden to him, and she appreciated his sensitivity. It would be churlish to refuse.
“Thomas, I lost my husband less than three months ago. I’m still grieving,” Petra lied. “I am flattered by your interest, but I need time,” she pleaded, hoping that would put him off for a little while. She wasn’t against Thomas paying court to her, but she’d been taken completely by surprise and needed to think on his offer. Lady Blythe would not be pleased by her son’s interest in her companion. Thomas was wealthy and titled, and she was the poor widow of a shipbuilder. She wasn’t worthy of him, and he would see that, given time. She wished to spare him the embarrassment of having to withdraw his attentions and needed to retain her position in Lady Blythe’s household. She couldn’t afford to risk her livelihood; her family depended on her.
SIXTEEN
“Grieving?! Need time?!” Maude exclaimed, her eyebrows virtually disappearing beneath her headpiece. “Are you mad, girl? When a man like Lord Devon shows an interest, you let him know, without being too forward of course, that you are his for the taking. What do you think will happen to you once his mother dies? You will be back where you started, only older and less desirable. I wanted to insinuate you into Lady Blythe’s household in the hope that you might catch the eye of an eligible man. Well, you’ve caught the eye of the most eligible one of all, and he doesn’t even have children for you to raise. Just think what this could mean for you, Petra.”
“Mother, with all due respect, I’m simply not ready to marry again, especially to a man I hardly know. I’m sure Thomas is a good man, but he’s considerably above me in wealth and station. He will regret his choice and take his anger out on me,” Petra replied, fervently wishing that she hadn’t shared her conversation with Thomas with her mother. Of course, Maude was right to some degree, and Petra would have given her own daughter similar advice, but the thought of being owned by a man once again scared Petra into caution. She worried about the future, worked long hours to put food on the table, and barely saw her children, but at least no one beat her if the mood took them or if they had a difficult day, or rode her until she was sore and bleeding. Thomas was a big man, like Cyril, a man who had the power to hurt her badly if he chose to do so. She didn’t think him a brutal man, but no one really knew what went on between a husband and wife behind closed doors.
And then there was Avery. Petra had kept his return to Dunwich a secret from her mother. Avery had unintentionally ruined her life once, and he had the power to do so again, but the thought of seeing him made Petra smile foolishly. Her hands shook with nervousness as she smoothed down the fabric of her skirt as she stared into the dying flames of the fire but seeing only Avery’s face. He was the only man she’d ever loved, and the only man who’d ever been kind and loving to her in return. He would have married her had his father not sent him away, and he would have cherished her and their son. Perhaps Edwin would have turned out all right had Avery been there to raise him, rather than Cyril who frightened the child with his booming voice and quick temper. Avery would never have raised a hand to either of them, of that she was sure. He might not have desired to take the Holy Orders, but he did have a predisposition for the priesthood. He was kind and sympathetic, and eager to help when he could. But Avery was as far out of her reach as he ever was, Petra reminded herself as she tore her gaze away from the hearth. He was Father Avery now, a Roman Catholic priest.
Petra smothered the fire and bid her mother a good night before climbing up to her frigid loft and undressing for bed. She would not reject Thomas outright, she decided as she unpinned her hair, nor would she encourage him as her mother suggested. She would simply go about her daily business and see where that took her. She lay awake for some time, worrying about the future, but when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was Avery, not Thomas, who was in her thoughts.
SEVENTEEN
JANUARY 2014
Edinburgh, Scotland
“There are four missed calls from Rhys on your mobile. He just left a message on mine to inform me of that fact and to demand that you get back to him as soon as possible,” Gabe announced when Quinn came out of the shower. He was still lounging in bed, seeing as it was too early to call on the Lennoxes and collect Emma for her playdate at the nursery school. Gabe tossed Quinn her mobile and she stared at the call register. All the calls were from the previous evening.
“Oh no,” Quinn moaned. “I had a meeting scheduled at the BBC last night. I completely forgot, what with everything that happened. Rhys won’t be pleased with me.”
