Page 8 of Broken

“I believe the carriage is ready, milord,” Dithers informed Giles unnecessarily.

“Yes, it appears so.”

“I’m certain the baron will be back before you’ve realized he’s gone.”

“Hmph, I will remember you said that, Dithers. I wish he wasn’t doing this to me.”

“You sound frightened, milord.” Dithers sighed. “She’s just a woman.”

Giles scowled. He’d used his best arguments last night to try to dissuade the baron, short of threatening to ruin the chit, from going. Lord Winter had not shared Giles’ reservations. “Shut up, Dithers.”

Giles wasn’t truly irritated with the butler, but he had to take his annoyance out on someone. There was no female here he could take to bed to redirect his frustrations. Servants, despite their giggling suggestions, were off limits. Maybe the butler had a point. How much trouble could one ill woman be?

He turned from his perusal of the servants, climbed the steps toward Lilly’s bedchamber, and struggled not to hurry. He told himself quite firmly that he was keen to have Lord Winter on his way quickly so he might return with similar speed. It had absolutely nothing to do with his curious need to catch a glimpse of the woman who might have been his wife.

A virgin. Giles shuddered. What on earth was wrong with him?

He was in the country to rest until the next round of amorous diversions. He did not allow complications or virgins, to dominate his thoughts at Cottingstone. He was here to replenish his enthusiasm and relax.

He turned toward Lilly’s bedchamber and saw a flash of dark skirts hurrying away. The nurse, he supposed. What a timid, scurrying creature.

“Do you have to leave, Papa?” Lilly’s voice reached his ears and he paused outside the open door, unwilling to interrupt their farewells. He leaned against the wall, waiting and conveniently able to eavesdrop.

“I am sure you will be comfortable here, daughter.”

“Yes, Papa, I’m sure Giles will look after me very well.” Her voice sounded different, stronger, but Giles was surprised she referred to him by his first name. What exactly did Lillian Winter think she was to him? He hoped she knew her father had ended their betrothal.

Giles eased closer to the door, but he could see nothing except darkness within. He had no right to eavesdrop, but he had learned a great many things by that very poor habit.

“You must take particular care while I am gone, Lillian. Do not allow yourself to give in too frequently. We do not want to impose on Lord Daventry too greatly. He has been very good about you being here.”

Sheets rustled and when Lilly answered, her voice sounded muffled. “I know, Papa. I will do my best and rest a great deal. I am sure everything will be just fine. Do not worry. Have a good trip, but hurry back. I’ll miss you.”

There was a lengthy pause before he heard sheets rustle again and then the heavy tread of Lord Winter approaching the door. Giles moved back with every stealthy skill that he possessed to hide the fact he’d been listening, but Lord Winter seemed unsurprised by his presence.

“Your carriage is ready, sir,” Giles informed him.

Did Lilly know of her father’s plans for her future? Judging by Lord Winter’s face when he raised his chin, she did not. The man was as distraught as he had been the first night of his arrival.

Tears streamed down the older man’s face and he mopped them up hurriedly with a square of clean linen. Lord Winter obviously loved his daughter. Leaving her behind for this errand must be tearing him in two.

Atticus chose that moment to return to the house. He moved purposefully to Lord Winter, nuzzling into the older man’s hand for affection. The baron scratched behind the hound’s ears, earned a contented whine for his efforts, and then Winter leaned down to whisper into them. Atticus’ ears flattened, and then he turned, ignoring Giles to reenter Lilly’s room.

“You have a good hound there, Daventry. I did not credit that he would remember Lillian as he does. I am sorry if my daughter has deprived you of your companion, but I am grateful for the dog’s devotion. Atticus distracts her from her pain. I feel happier knowing he stands guard over her.”

Giles stopped the baron with a hand on his arm, holding him back when he would have left. Hints and innuendo be damned. “Stands guard over her? Is there something you are not telling me?”

Lord Winter glanced around to judge the position of his daughter’s bedchamber, then encouraged Giles farther along the hall. “I did not want to trouble you, but strange things happen around Lillian. Odd accidents. I do my best to always be nearby. You have seen Atticus’ behavior. He will stand in for me as best he can. You need not worry yourself over her.”

Giles was not satisfied with that response, but it appeared all he would get. Lord Winter shrugged from his grip and headed out of the manor at a sprightly pace. Giles jogged to keep up.

“The faster I am away, the faster I can return. You will be here until I get back, won’t you?”

Giles groaned. He would be lucky if he made the next Huntley ball to see his ghost again. After such vague hints, Giles doubted he possessed enough resolve to leave Lilly here alone.

Lord Winter vaulted into the conveyance and, together with the more usual level of noise, the carriage departed.

Giles watched the drifting dust settle with quiet resignation. Years spent building a sterling reputation as a rake and reduced to a nursemaid by a few well-chosen words. At least he could expect Lord Carrington’s company soon.