Page 85 of The Gentleman's Deception

Chapter 22

Lavinia splashed water on herface and blotted it dry with a towel, then studied her reflection in the oval mirror on her washstand. She had to look calm and steady when she spoke to Hannah and Artie, whom she’d left at Delia’s side when she’d been summoned to the drawing room by Lord Thurlby. The reflection that stared back at her from the mirror wasn’t very convincing, but it would have to do.

She patted a few loose strands of hair back into place and straightened her skirt, praying that no one would be in the corridor when she left her room so she could slip into Delia’s room unnoticed. She needed to let the others know about the Earl of Cosgrove’s arrival at Alderwood and the resulting confrontation before they learned about it from someone else—a member of the family or, heaven forbid, one of the staff. Hannah and Artie deserved to hear about it from her.

She quietly unlocked the door and turned the knob—and the door flew open, nearly knocking her over in the process. Lucas slipped in and shut it behind him.

“You cannot be in here,” Lavinia hissed. “Your family has been scandalized enough this evening. I will not add to their discomfort by having their son discovered alone with me here in a privatetête-à-tête.” She swung the door open wide and pointed. “Out. Now.” She was sorely hurt by his mistrust and inaction down in the drawing room, effectively leaving her on her own to face Lord Cosgrove and his insinuations.

“Fine,” he said, pointing as well. “We shall have this conversation in the corridor, then, but we shall have it. After you, Lavinia.”

She marched out of her room, relying on anger to get her past her grief, and then whirled about to face him. “Say what it is you have to say, Lucas, so I may get back to my packing.”

He shook his head at her, which only succeeded in fueling her anger further. “You are waiting for the rest of the list, no doubt. The men who sought my favor.Favors, to be more precise. Let me think”—she tapped her chin—“Sir John Ewell, Lord Bromley—”

He placed his fingers over her mouth, effectively silencing her. “Hush, Lavinia. Don’t do this to yourself. I confess I was shocked to discover there was one more ratherlargesecret you had kept from me,Miss Ruby Chadwick, but it had more to do with the fact that I thought I had gained your trust and yet you had kept an important part of yourself from me.”

She pushed his fingers aside. “You left me on my own to face that horrid man in front of your entire family. I felt so alone and exposed, Lucas, like I’d been stripped bare by his words.”

“I’m sorry for that,” he said. “It was rather difficult to get a word in edgewise. But you were absolutely brilliant, like a virtuous, fiery goddess. I got rather caught up in the performance. It took every fiber of my being to keep from dashing after you when you left, but I had to make sure Cosgrove left with certain understandings in place. I also wanted to explain what had been going on to my family—and to let them know that the deception surrounding our betrothal was of my doing. That it wasmyfault, not yours.”

He was so close, so close, and then his arms came about her. “I must tell you something,” he whispered in her ear, his cheek resting against her own. She shut her eyes. “A confession, I’m afraid. I am impetuous at times—perhaps you’ve noticed—and I said something to my family tonight I should have spoken with you about first.”

“What?” she whispered, caught up in the warmth of his body, fighting the enticing sense of security it gave. There was such power in intimacy, true intimacy. He had not even so much as kissed her, and yet the feeling of oneness with him nearly overwhelmed her with its sweetness.

“I told them I love you, for it is true. But I should have told you first. I love you, Lavinia Fernley, with all my heart. Please don’t leave.” He dropped to one knee, and Lavinia looked into his eyes and saw truth there. “Marry me. We shall work together to make Primrose Farm thrive, and we shall live as regular people—or we will return to London so you may be The Darling of Drury Lane if that is your choice. Only marry me—the sooner, the better.”

Oh, but it was tempting.

Could one learn to trust after so many years and so many poor examples warning her against it? Could she trust him? She dearly wanted to, but there was so much at stake.

She knew what she had to do.

He closed his eyes and brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss.

“Lucas,” she whispered. “I trust you more than I have ever trusted anyone, save Hannah. You said you spoke impetuously to your family. I cannot afford to be impetuous.”

“Lavinia, please—”

She cradled his face with her hands and made him look her in the eye. “I must have time to consider. I am not saying no; oh, please don’t think that, for I love you too. Oh, I do love you. But I need time. My father—”

“I understand, my love.” Lucas rested his forehead against hers. “Your father has much to account for with his Maker. I will be patient—and hopeful. I ask only that you remain here, where I can court you in earnest.”

She kissed him with her entire being, wrapping her arms around his neck as he held her tightly in his arms. “Lavinia,” he whispered, drawing back and looking at her with the eyes of a hungry lover, but this time Lavinia knew it was love that fueled the passion, not merely passion alone. “We muststop ourselves, my dearest love, or I will be riding off to obtain a speciallicense this very minute. I’m hopeful your enthusiasm means your answer will eventually be yes.” He kissed her one last time and then took a deep breath. “You were going somewhere when I arrived at your room, I believe.”

“Yes, I was going to tell Hannah to pack her things.” She kissed him and then kissed him again.

“But you won’t tell her that now, surely?” he murmured.

“No. But, I still must let Hannah and Artie know what happened. They need to know.”

“Then I will accompany you to Delia’s room, if I may. Poor fellow, Artie; it breaks my heart to see him this way. He barely leaves Delia’s side, even for a moment.”

“I feel so helpless. It’s been longer than twenty-four hours, and she’s barely made a flutter. What if she doesn’t wake up?”

He caressed her cheek. “Then we will do what has to be done, my love. We will stay by her side until the end, we will be there for Artie and for Hannah, and we will grieve together.”

They arrived at Delia’s room and saw the door had been left open a crack. Inside, Delia lay still as death in her bed. Hannah sat nearby, a single candle providing illumination while she did her sewing. Artie was slumped in a chair by Delia’s side, his head on his chest, quietly snoring.

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