Page 24 of The Lyon and the Lamb

The younger woman’s shoulders drooped, and she looked more like a lost child than ever.

Araminta flushed guiltily. “But I’m sure Lord Aylsham will forgive you,” she amended. “Won’t you, sir?”

He nodded but continued gazing at her, his carefully-prepared speech all but forgotten.

“He does not seem too concerned about the social niceties, either,” Araminta continued. “He is more than happy to invade someone else’s home in their absence, and deal summarily with their relations, regardless of what the consequences might be.”

That brought him back down to earth. So much for assuming he could please her by ejecting Mr. Bilson. She must understand, surely, that he’d felt obliged to remove the man. And that he wouldn’t dream of leaving her alone to face the consequences—if, indeed, there were any?

If she didn’t trust him, then he must make her.

“Miss Bellamy, you must be in need of refreshment. Why don’t you call for some tea and see about getting your luggage brought indoors? No need to hurry—your sister and I have much to discuss.”

Araminta shot him an inimical look as Miss Bellamy trotted out of the room.

He hastened to Araminta’s side. “I thought it best that we speak in private,” he explained, lowering his voice. “You left me so precipitously—you didn’t even wait to hear my feelings about giving up a child into foster care. I beg you not to make assumptions about me when you know me so little.”

The angry look faded. Araminta busied herself removing her bonnet whilst avoiding his gaze. He took the bonnet from her, set it down, and closed the door.

“I was concerned when I arrived so far in advance of you. Truly, I never meant to ambush you—I had fully expected you to be here already. Did you meet some misadventure upon the road?”

Why was he making small talk when they had far more significant matters to discuss?

“I don’t know why you had to close the door to ask me about my journey, my lord.”

“Call me Leo, please. There are things we need to talk over in private.”

“Perhaps I don’t wish to talk to you.”

Her cheeks had pinked again—it made her even more devastatingly appealing. He gazed in mute admiration.

“Tell me what happened, at least,” he managed.

“Very well, since I can see I won’t be easily rid of you. Our carriage wheel got stuck in a rut and it took an age to free it. It turns out that if you dig a hole in the King’s highway in order to release a vehicle, you’re obliged to fill it back in again, and make it better than it was before.”

“You got stuck in a rut?” It was fortunate that they’d not been hurt—he was justified in worrying.

“There was a big jolt, and the carriage creaked in protest, but it wasn’t damaged. The horses were rather upset at being pulled up so short, but Coachman is very skilled—he calmed them immediately. It was the digging that took the time.”

“I am glad neither you nor Miss Bellamy suffered any harm.” He was more relieved than she could possibly imagine. He took a deep breath. “Now, to the matter in hand—that of our marriage. I thought you’d agreed to it until the issue of the child came up. I cannot, I will not allow that barrier to stand between us—there must be a solution. I have the germ of an idea already, but I need to examine the practicalities. I have, at least, bought us some time, by disposing of Mr. Bilson. Should he decide to contest your occupation of this house, he’ll fail. I know the best lawyers in the land.” It was convenient, on occasion, to be well-connected.

“You make free with the word ‘us’, sir. You lied to Thomas about being my fiancé—he’ll find out the truth soon enough, and then there’ll be trouble. You don’t know him as I do.”

He moved closer, silently begging her to have some faith in him. “If the only reason for avoiding wedlock is the issue of the child, then I’m grateful. It is an obstacle that can be surmounted.” Hopefully, there was nothing else that had turned her against him. He couldn’t bear to lose her now.

She glanced away. “A son of ours would be heir to your earldom. How can I ask you to give him up so soon? You’ve already lost one child—a loss that must have hurt you deeply.”

“It did. It still does. I’m glad that you think me human, at the very least.” Indeed—she knew exactly how human he was. He had spent an entire night proving it to her.

The room turned unaccountably warm. He moved across to the window and gazed out at the darkening sky.

“You’ll like Brampton Hall. I’ll give you carte blanche to decorate it however you wish. It’s bigger than this house, and the rooms are arranged differently—they are pleasantly light and airy. You must visit the place with me as soon as possible. You can re-decorate the townhouse too, although you may have to battle my reprobate brother, who uses it more than I do.”

“Is he truly a reprobate?” She sounded anxious.

“Indeed. But I still care for him—I’m human, as I said, and am perfectly capable of family feeling. My sibling is the Honorable Roland Chetwynd, Master of No-Useful-Skills-at-All. Except those of being charming and persuasive. You’ll like him.” Women usually did.

He heard the soft rustle of taffeta and knew Araminta had come to stand close behind him. His body rippled with excitement, but he repressed the urge to spin around and embrace her.