Page 61 of The Earl’s Hoyden

But even as he opened his mouth, Lord Westwich’s rage melted away to sorrow, his large blue eyes so bright with hurt that it slammed Lucien in the chest.

“Please,” Lord Westwich said softly in a pleading tone. “You’ve done enough hurt to my little girl.”

And it was in that beseeching request Lucien saw exactly how deeply he had wounded Hannah this time. It was that stark understanding in the end that ultimately made him give up the fight.

14

Hannah was content to let the season pass her by. A fortnight faded away on the wings of time since the incident with Lord Brightstone. He had not returned to the house since her father met with him on her behalf.

She attended several soirees, of course, and a ball or two, but they lacked the brilliance and color and joy they once held. All she wanted now was a departure from the coldness of London for the embrace of nature and wilderness in their country estate. She longed for the balm of solitude and the stretch of freedom, far away from prying eyes and waspish tongues.

There had been only one time she’d seen Lord Brightstone at a soiree, and while his gaze fell on her and lingered, she ensured she did not once acknowledge his presence in the room. Her heart knew better, however, and beat in great, heavy thuds that remained with her not only through the night but for several interminable days after.

It was on an afternoon not long after that when Hannah lay listless in her bed, her hand resting atop a novel she could not bring herself to finish, a knock came at the door.

Curious, she sat up.

Mary usually had a much louder knock to ensure she wasn’t being ignored, as that had been a habit of Hannah’s as a girl when she’d been too preoccupied with play to pay proper attention. The quiet knock sounded again, and then, without her answer, the knob turned.

Who would enter her room without permission?

A woman with dark hair and a sarcastic smirk on her lips peeked in, saw Hannah and grinned.

“Lucy?”

She laughed quietly and glided into the room. “I knew you’d be in here. The others are downstairs asking your poor butler for various odds and ends in an attempt to occupy him from seeing me come up here.” Her mirth faded. “Why won’t you see us?”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m so very unhappy,” she confessed. “I know you all love me for my laughter and jests and how joyful I always am. To be so melancholy is too unappealing to make others endure. I could not subject you to that, not when I love you all so dearly.”

“Oh, Hannah.” Lucy sank onto the bed beside her and pushed a lank red curl back behind Hannah’s ear. “We love you in all the ways we can get you, whether it’s a smile we are sharing or a hurt we want to help soothe. Especially Amy—you do know that is what she lives for, to heal us all.”

Hannah chuckled lightly. “She truly is so nurturing.”

“It’s one of the many reasons why we cherish her. And if she were suddenly unable to help us, would that make us care for her any less?” Lucy raised her eyebrows.

“No,” Hannah immediately replied, almost offended by the notion. “Of course not.”

Lucy held out her hands, palm up in demonstration. “And nor would we want to shun your company if you weren’t happy. Come now, would I have dodged your butler to sneak up here if we weren’t truly worried about you?”

Hannah threw her a skeptical look.

“Very well.” Lucy sighed. “Perhaps, depending on the situation. But would Elizabeth have supported it? Or Amy, for that matter?”

“Fair point,” Hannah grudgingly admitted.

Lucy took Hannah’s arm and pulled gently. “Now, please join us downstairs before I have to add abduction to my list of crimes.”

With that, Hannah allowed herself to be encouraged from the bed and led down to the drawing room, where poor Jones shook his head before the other women. “But we don’t have blue silk umbrellas.”

He started as Hannah and Lucy entered.

“Thank you, Jones,” Hannah said to her frazzled butler. “I’m here now and can handle these hellions.”

He cast a severe look at Lucy, who merely smiled sweetly at him in a quiet reply.

When he left, Hannah’s friends rushed toward her, capturing her in the warmth of their embrace.

“Now, tell us what is amiss.” Amy’s soft brown eyes locked on Hannah’s.