Page 92 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Forty-Five

Away! away! for I will fly to thee.

—Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale”

By the timehe’d mounted and was on his way, the clouds had parted and the moon easily lit his way. He was thankful to be able to keep a steady pace. It felt good to put some distance between him and the events of the night, and he was glad for his friend to have some time alone with his brother-in-law. It was going to be a burden for Walford to keep Laurence’s secret, but Richard did not doubt he’d manage. Walford would do anything for his family, and knowing it was for their safety would ease the guilt of not sharing the good news with his wife.

He paused at the entrance to the drive, the trees, on both sides of the road, standing somberly in the dark, sentinels for Thornwood Manor. Richard knew he, too, would do anything for his family. How had his thinking become so skewed that he’d believed his absence would be a benefit to anyone, never mind Elizabeth? He’d been so worried Elizabeth would see him as less of a man for not being willing to perform his duty, so sure she would dismiss his dread and he’d surrender and put her in an unpardonable situation. He could have lost his life tonight. Surely if he could face Death, he could tell her everything and face down his own fears. Then together they would find a way to move forward. He nudged the horse, and it trotted along the drive. At the end of the lane lay his world, and he vowed never to neglect it again.

There would be no one in the main courtyard at this time, so he guided the horse to the left and into the stable yard before dismounting and hooking the reins to a post. His own horse would not move, but Walford’s was not familiar with Thornwood Manor, and Richard did not want it to bolt. He stepped into the dark stables. The smell of hay and dung hovered warmly in the air.

“Simon!” he shouted as he walked between the stalls, the path to Simon’s room as familiar as the halls of the manor house. A light flickered, and Simon stepped out at the far end of the stable.

“My lord?” His hair disheveled, standing in his nightshirt, Simon held the lamp higher to better see Richard.

“My apologies for pulling you from your bed. I have Walford’s stallion in need of care.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll see to it.”

“And have someone ride it to Woodfield. Later in the day, when it is rested.” Richard turned and walked through the side yard and in through the servants’ door. Warmth spilled from the kitchen fire, and he could hear movement in the scullery, but he didn’t stop to see who was already up and about. He took the hallway leading to the main house, pausing at Hastings’s rooms. A light shone under his door. Richard tapped lightly.

“My lord!” Hastings said, pulling at his waistcoat and touching his bare neck as though embarrassed to be caught without his jacket and neck cloth.

“Have you not gone to bed?” Richard asked, surprised by the man’s state of dress. It was a stark contrast to Simon’s nightshirt.

“Yes, my lord. I went to bed after Lady Thornwood retired. I was reviewing accounts before heading out into a new day.” Hastings stopped fidgeting and stood straighter, and Richard admired the pride in his voice.

“Well, my apologies for interrupting at such an hour. I ask you that not disturb myself or Lady Thornwood this morning. We will ring when we are in need of anything.”

“Yes, my lord. Shall I send up a bath?”

“It’s far too late. Or too early?” Richard had no idea what time it was, only that he was growing tired. “I’ve disturbed enough people for now.”

“It would be my pleasure, my lord. The footmen will be happy you are home. Everyone will be,” Hastings added, uncharacteristically forthcoming with his opinion.

“A hot jug of water will be fine, thank you.”

Richard left Hastings and entered the main house. He’d not missed Hastings’s point that the entire staff was aware of his absence. Well, they were all about to see changes around here.

The moon provided enough light to navigate the hall and take the stairs. He stopped at the top and glanced to the left. She was so close, but he could not go to her as he was. He smelled of dirt and horse—and Sophia. Nowtherewas a mystery woman if he’d ever met one. He wondered if she was simply one of those people who had a nose for adventure. Or trouble.

Richard turned to the front of the house and entered his room, shedding the cloak and walking to the window. It had been far too long since he’d stood here without planning how to quickly leave again. Now all he could think of was how to manage it so he could stay. What if Elizabeth did not want him?

He bade the person enter when there was a tap at the door. Gordon came in and knelt before the fireplace. In minutes, the flames roared to life. Hastings arrived with a jug of water and set it on the stand. He dismissed Gordon and turned to Richard.

“Can I be of assistance?” Hastings asked.

“I’m fine,” Richard said. “I believe I’m more than fine, Hastings. That will be all.”

Hastings bowed and exited the room. Richard had left Marcus in London. He’d had no intention of coming to Thornwood Manor, and he’d not been able to bring his valet along to the coaching house. He could not risk their plans being overheard. He’d send for him in the morning. He looked outside at the gray fraying the edges of darkness. Or in the afternoon. He ran a hand through his hair.Devil it, he was tired.

He stripped off his clothing and grabbed a piece of linen and a cake of lightly scented soap. His head dense with fog, he soaped and rinsed and dried himself off. He walked into his dressing room, grabbed a silk banyan, and slipped it on. He stepped back into the hall and headed to the rear of the house.

Richard tapped lightly on Elizabeth’s door and pressed his ear against it. There was no sound. When she slept, she slept deeply, something he’d always envied. He tended to rest on the verge of wakening, the least sound pulling him from slumber. He eased open the door.

Between the moon and the dying embers, there was enough light to see she was snug and fast asleep, both hands tucked under her cheek like an innocent. His heartbeat slowed, and his mind mellowed, the building fatigue finally overwhelming him. He would not disturb her sleep. There was nothing that could not wait for a few more hours.

He turned to leave but changed his mind. He was tired of an empty bed. Tired of the distance between them. Richard wanted to be near her, to hold her. He walked to the bed and stood staring at her. Her beautiful blonde hair, braided, swirled in a halo above her head. Elizabeth. His angel.

Richard carefully pulled back the coverlet. The bed dipped with his weight as he eased in behind her and snugged into her warmth. He inhaled slowly, deeply, smiling in memory of trying to find her scent through that damned beaked mask. Well, he could smell her now, a luxury he had missed.

He gently put his arm around her waist, resting one hand on her breast. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the short breathy exhales across his knuckles, and the slight pulsating of her heart against the palm of his hand combined to create a sweet lullaby. Richard drifted quickly toward sleep.

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