Part 23 (1/2)

”You must believe that. There is always room for hope.”

Hope. It was a word she had clung to for years. Where her husband was concerned, she wasn't sure how much longer she could believe in the possibility. Forcing away the painful thought, Kathryn returned her attention to Winnie and her upcoming marriage.

”My husband may not know what it means to fall in love, but he respects Nat Whitley and I know he would want you to be happy.”

Footsteps sounded behind them just then. ”Happy?” Lucien strode toward them with a smile. ”How could I possibly be happy when my favorite aunt is abandoning me for life in the city?” He'd been partridge hunting with the duke. He still wore his shooting jacket and high black riding boots. With his dark hair slightly wind-tossed, he looked unbearably handsome.

Winnie nervously toyed with a wisp of blond hair, fallen loose from the soft curls atop her head. ”I'm your favorite aunt because I'm your only aunt, and I am hoping you'll be happy for me because... because I am soon to be married.”

”Married!” His eyes swung to Kathryn and for an instant there was something intimate and disturbing in his gaze. ”Who is the lucky man-and it had better be Nat Whitley.”

Winnie sputtered in surprise, then leapt to her feet, her solemn expression disappearing in a brilliant smile. ”Then you don't disapprove?”

”Of course not. I can't think of a man who would make a finer husband than Nat, and I know how much he cares for you.”

Her arms went around him and Winnie hugged him hard. ”Thank you, Lucien. I love him so much and I was so worried.” Winnie's eyes misted with tears. ”Nat wanted to speak to you, but I couldn't bear the thought that you might not approve. My father turned him away from my door when he was a boy. I couldn't bear to think of him being hurt again.”

”I'm happy to welcome Nat into the family. I hope you will tell him I said so.”

”Yes. Oh, yes, I shall.” She drew a pretty lace handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. ”I can't remember when I've ever been so happy.”

Kathryn smiled. ”You deserve to be happy, Aunt Winnie.” For an instant, her gaze strayed to the dark eyes of her husband. Something unreadable moved in their depths, then it was gone. She wondered what he was thinking, wondered if there was the slightest chance that one day he would come to love her as Nat Whitley loved Winnie DeWitt.

Knowing him as she now did, Kathryn didn't believe there was. She continued to smile, but her heart ached unbearably.

Lucien dug his heels into the sides of his spirited black stallion, urging the horse to a faster gallop across the fields. He was restless today, oddly disturbed in some manner. He wasn't certain what it was. He only knew that Kathryn was the cause.

In the past few days since his aunt had left to return to London, something had s.h.i.+fted between them. Kathryn had been listless and strangely remote, keeping to herself and rarely spending time even with little Michael. Sensing her withdrawal but unsure of the cause, he had left her alone, staying away even from her bedchamber at night.

Though his body craved the release he was accustomed to seeking, he had forced himself not to go to her, hoping in time her usual high spirits would return. So far that hadn't occurred. At night, lying alone in his big four-poster bed, his body ached with frustrated desire for her, but it was more than that. He wanted simply to be with her, to lie beside her and hold her while she slept.

It terrified him to think he wanted more from his wife than occasional companions.h.i.+p and the use of her body, but he was beginning to think that he did. He found himself straining to hear her voice, the warm sound of her laughter, as she pa.s.sed down the hall. During the day, he stood at the window overlooking the garden just to get a glimpse of her, to watch the way the sunlight glinted off the auburn in her hair.

Two days ago, he bought her a small, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare's sonnets, hoping to distract her from the melancholy she had sunk into.

”You bought this for me?” She seemed incredulous he would do even such a small, simple thing, and he found the thought more than a little disturbing.

He cleared his throat. ”I thought... hoped you might like it. You have seemed a bit out of sorts of late.”

For an instant he could have sworn her eyes had misted with tears. ”Thank you, my lord. I shall treasure it always.” She had accepted the book and held it against her breast as if it were fas.h.i.+oned of gold instead of merely paper, smiling up at him with such sweetness something clenched hard in his chest.

Lucien reined the black toward the open fields and increased his speed, set the stallion into a steady pace toward the stone wall that loomed ahead. The stallion was an excellent jumper. He sailed over the wall with ease and Lucien turned him toward a tall hedge bordering the stream. The animal took the jump like the champion he was, and Lucien patted his neck in praise, then reined him back toward the house.

Two more jumps along the way. It felt good to be out in the warm spring air, to be free of his disturbing thoughts of Kathryn. The stallion approached the jump, a stone fence higher than the rest, a challenge another horse might have refused. Lucien knew Blade would not. As they approached the fence, the animal collected himself, Lucien lifted over the horse's neck at exactly the right instant, and together they flew over the fence. They had almost made it to the opposite side when he heard an ominous snap. The saddle s.h.i.+fted beneath him then dropped away and his weight lifted into the air.

The horse landed hard and slightly out of rhythm, nearly going down himself. Lucien's shoulder clipped the side of the high stone fence and he felt a jolt of pain, then his head hit the ground. He fought against the darkness closing in on him, then his vision grew dim, and the world spun into blackness.

He wasn't sure how long he lay unconscious, only a minute or two, no more. He staggered to his feet, shaking his head to clear it, leaning against the gray rock for support. His head pounded viciously. A bruise was forming on his shoulder, and his knuckles ached where they had been sc.r.a.ped, but otherwise he was unhurt. His white s.h.i.+rt hung open nearly to the waist, his jacket and breeches were covered with dirt and leaves. A soft nicker pulled his attention to Blade, who stood shaking a few feet away, his reins hanging down, his sides and nostrils flaring. The saddle lay in a heap near the animal's feet.

Ignoring the dizziness that a.s.saulted him, Lucien made his way to the horse. Speaking to him softly, he smoothed the stallion's sides and patted his neck as he checked him for injuries. Gratefully finding none, he reached down to examine the saddle and saw at a glance the reason for his spill-the cinch had simply broken. He went down on one knee to survey the equipment more closely.

At first it appeared there was merely a break in the leather, but the saddle wasn't old and it had always been well cared for. He checked the severed edges of the leather again and this time he noticed there were faint circular marks where the leather had been weakened. A good hard ride, a moment of strain as he took a series of jumps as he had done today, and the cinch would give way.

Lucien cursed beneath his breath. His fall was no accident. And it was the third time in a few short months that he had nearly been killed. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! Fighting the anger shooting through him, he gathered the horse's reins and started walking back to the house.

The servants were gossiping. Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, Kathryn could hear a group of them gathered behind the door. Then the door burst open and f.a.n.n.y rushed out, running so fast she nearly collided with Kathryn.

”Milady! Beg pardon! I didn't see you standin' there.”

”What is it, f.a.n.n.y? What's going on?”

She glanced around a bit furtively, then pulled Kathryn down the hall and around the corner where no one could hear. ” 'Tis his lords.h.i.+p, milady. The cinch broke on his saddle and he took a pretty bad spill. He told the lads in the stable not to worry you, but we all thought you should know.”

Kathryn's pulse began to race. ”Where is he? How badly is he injured?”

”Joey says he's fine, just shook up a bit. As to where he is, I couldn't say for sure. He might still be out in the stables.”

Kathryn didn't wait to hear more, just hoisted her skirts and took off like a shot out the back door. When she reached the stable, she found Bennie working over Blade, rubbing the sweat from his lathered black coat, but Lucien was nowhere near.

”Do you know where his lords.h.i.+p went, Bennie? I heard he had a riding accident.”

”He went up to the house, milady. He were all right, though, just a b.u.mp on the head, nothin' serious.”

Nothing serious. Those words, she had learned, were the standard reply all men made, no matter how severe the injury. She turned and started back to the house, but just inside the stable door, she spotted Lucien's saddle, and an unpleasant suspicion began to form. Changing course, she bent to survey the equipment, saw that the cinch had broken.

At first it looked as though the break was simply that. The edges were ragged, not smooth as they would have been if the leather had been cut. She started to breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed an odd pattern in the way the edges were frayed. The cinch had not been cut, but it was possible small holes had been made in the leather to weaken it. When it broke, if no one examined it closely, the edge would look frayed, as if the break were truly accidental.

Fear sent a chill down Kathryn's spine. Her throat tightened against the feeling of panic that lodged there. Lifting her skirts up out of the way, she raced back to the house and up the rear stairs, ran down the hall, and jerked open the door to Lucien's suite without bothering to knock.

He was still dressed in his boots and breeches, standing in front of the small oval mirror on his dresser, his s.h.i.+rt missing and his chest bare. He splashed a handful of water onto his face and gleaming droplets ran down his throat and into the curly black hair on his chest. Muscles stretched and tightened with each of his movements, rippled down his flat belly.

For a moment, Kathryn just stood there, admiring all that hard male flesh and wis.h.i.+ng she could reach out and touch him. He hadn't come to her room in nearly two weeks and she had missed him.

Until she saw him standing there half-naked, she hadn't realized quite how much.

He blotted his face with a towel and his eyes swung to hers. ”Obviously you heard I took a fall. I a.s.sure you I am quite all right. I've survived any number of similar spills and this one is no more serious than the others. If you have come to badger me with your potions and remedies, I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint you.”

”Are you... are you certain that you are all right? Perhaps I should have a quick look.”

His hard look softened at the worry on her face. ”I'm fine. I bruised my shoulder and hit my head but I'm feeling much better now.”

Unconsciously, she moved toward him, thinking of the saddle she had examined and uncertain exactly what to say. ”I gather the cinch broke on your saddle.”

He stiffened a bit, laid the towel beside the pitcher and basin on the dresser. ”News travels fast.”

”You could have been badly injured.”