Page 70 of Mending the Baron's Sins
“I quite understand if you do not want to do this, Orla,” he said, his voice low. “The choice is yours, completely. I just want you to know this.” He lifted her hand to his lips and turned it over, kissing the back as he maintained the connection of their gazes. “I would do whatever you ask of me, give you whatever life you want.”
She blinked a few times, so rapidly that he realized she was holding back tears.
“I…” he stalled. He was about to tell her that he loved her. The words had come naturally to his mind, and the moment he was about to utter them, he knew how true they were. Yet he feared saying them and not hearing it back. It would be too painful to bear.
“I need time to think,” she said hurriedly. “You would be asking me to give up much to be with you.”
“I know,” he added, speaking just as fast. “Take all the time you need in the world. Just know this, Orla. The choice is yours. Whatever you want for the future.”
She smiled, that sad sort of look creasing her features again. She reached up on her toes and he instinctively moved toward her. They kissed, the lightest and most fleeting of kisses, her soft lips like petals against his own.
He had a wild imagining of what they had shared in his bed. He thought of returning there now with her, of pleasuring her again, only this time, he would make love to her. He would enter her and show through every touch he gave her just how passionately in love with her he was.
Abruptly, she stepped back. Her lips were gone from his, her hands parted from his touch. She sniffed and backed up to the door, waving in parting, then she was gone. The moment the door closed behind her, Horace sighed and sat down on the edge of the desk again.
He was still certain. Now he had found a way forward. He knew leaving had to be the one way to go. Not only could he help Lavinia, but he could create a business that someday he would be proud of, but there would be compromises to make.
He would not be able to see Adam much anymore, and he would be very reliant on Adam’s care of the tenants.
Yet the greatest sacrifice he could end up making, and the one that worried him the most, was that he might not see Orla again if she chose not to come with him.
***
“You will come to me soon? You promise?” Lavinia asked, with no hidden desperation this time.
Horace stood with her in the entrance of the hall. Beyond the door, the rain came down hard.
The ice around Ingelby Hall had cracked and showed signs of defrosting at last. In its place, new green shoots could be seen poking their heads through the soil, and the heavy rains came down every morning, greeting the new days.
“I promise,” Horace promised to her, smiling at her with reassurance. “You get yourself seen by a physician now. A doctor should check on you when a child is due, yes?” he urged.
Lavinia nodded. He had even offered to have Orla looked at Lavinia, but to his surprise, Lavinia had taken this suggestion very poorly indeed. She had instead promised to get seen when she returned to London.
“Do not be alone. Keep your friends with you, and soon enough, I’ll come to you.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Horace.” Lavinia stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. With a watery smile, she replaced one of her impressive headdresses to her temple and hurried out into the rain.
George ran ahead of her, opening the door for her and helping her inside. The driver jumped up to the front of the carriage, and soon the coach was lurching forward down the path.
Lavinia pressed her face to the window and waved at Horace. He waved back, his stomach tightening in fear.
I will come, Lavinia. Just as soon as I have sorted out the mess here.
He glanced back through the house, hoping for some sign of Orla, but it was plain she had been avoiding him the last couple of days. She needed to think about his offer, but the more time she took over making a decision was beginning to make him wonder if she intended to turn him down.
He went to close the door with a sigh when the sound of wheels in the puddles drew his intention. He opened the door wider again, just as the smaller and faster-moving coach came to a halt.
The gentleman inside stepped down without the help of someone opening his door. He needed his thanks to the driver, his face half hidden beneath his top hat, then hastened through the rain toward the door.
“Lord De Rees?” the man called as he stepped inside and bowed.
“Mr. Patterson, thank you for coming.” Horace bowed to him, too.
“I must say how delighted I am to see you up and about.” Mr. Patterson smiled warmly. “You look much healthier than the last time I saw you.”
“Yes, I seem to be improving.” Horace thanked him for his kindness. “I’m even well enough to discuss business, so I am glad indeed you could come to see me. Come, this way.” He beckoned Mr. Patterson to follow him. They traipsed toward the library and sat down inside. A roaring fire kept them warm, fighting the chill caused by the rain beyond the windows, and tea was soon brought for them to share.
They sat there with the first cup as Mr. Patterson evidently waited politely for Horace to begin their discussions.
