Page 46 of Charity

Oscar drew her close. “No dreams. It seems you are exactly what I need in my life. I’ll speak to your grandfather as soon as I can, and then we can be on our way.”

Agatha sat up and hugged the sheet to her breasts. “On our way where?”

“To Gretna Green, of course. Lord Thorpe will be vexed about it all, but I’ll deal with him when we return.”

Agatha chewed her lip. “He’ll sue for breach of promise, won’t he?”

“More than likely, but we’ll manage somehow. I want to marry you and only you. Mother will be able to smooth things over with the ton eventually.”

“Oh, dear. Not a very good beginning.” Agatha chewed her lip again and slipped out of the bed. There was no telling how her grandfather would view the scandal. Would he still pay her dowry to Oscar under such scandalous circumstances? “Will Thorpe ruin you?”

“I have no idea.” Oscar smiled wickedly. “Now, enough of the Thorpes and the future. Come here. A very wise woman I know suggested I live in the past no more and hold on to the present. Right now, I’d like to hold on to you.”

As Agatha crawled across the bed to perch on his lap again, she noted the absence of dark circles beneath his eyes and the ready smile that lightened them. He was content again. Had her presence caused that?

Oscar drew her down upon him and she did her best to kiss his remaining cares away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Home, sweet home,” Estella murmured as she looked about her entrance hall with complete satisfaction, admiring all the things she loved best in her life. Her possessions gave her comfort as they winked back at her in the sunlight streaming in from a high window. Every time she went away, she was always glad to return home.

“Good to have you back, milady,” her butler said as he saw to the dispersal of her possessions into the upper reaches of the house.

Hellishly good to be home, in fact. Estella tugged her gloves from her fingers with relief. Her brief interlude with Thomas hadn’t been the calm affair she’d anticipated. Thomas had been difficult. He had not liked her mothering one bit. Oh, she hadn’t really attempted to mother him in truth, but he’d been tired and Estella had attempted to encourage him to slower pursuits.

They hadn’t even made love—the first time they had traveled together and not done so.

Estella took her bonnet from her head. What had changed to set his hackles up so strongly? Had he tired of their affair?

Estella brushed the thought aside. If Thomas was done, he would certainly tell her so. He was a direct man in all his dealings and would not lead her on without a full explanation if he had withdrawn his affections. Perhaps the fault lay within him. He had struggled from bed most mornings and by their journey’s end, dark circles had graced his eyes.

Perhaps he was frustrated by getting old. Heaven knew Estella sometimes peered into her looking glass, lamenting over the arrival of one more line to her face.

“Would you care for tea, milady?”

“Yes, I think I would. Send it upstairs to my chambers, along with some butter biscuits, too.”

Estella climbed the stairs. She looked forward to the solitude of the afternoon before Lord Daventry’s dinner party tonight. She quite thought she might lie down and rest for a good hour. Her maid could wake her when she needed to get up and dressed. Yes, a bit of solitude would be wonderful, indeed.

Yet as Estella crossed her bedchamber threshold, a loud knock sounded on the front door. Not the knocker, either, because it had not been put up. A man’s heavy fist. She turned around and peered over the railing to spy on whom it might be.

“Lord Lynton to see Lady Carrington.”

Estella drew back for two reasons. One, shock that Lynton had come to call on her the minute she’d returned home, and two, that he used his title in an attempt to intimidate her staff.

“Her ladyship is not receiving visitors, milord,” Graves intoned.

“She’ll see me.”

“How dare you!” Graves growled as Lynton pounded up the staircase ahead of the butler.

Estella stepped closer to the rail and looked down. “It is all right, Graves. I was expecting Lord Lynton.”

Although the butler frowned at the news, he went away. Estella fixed her gaze on her unexpected visitor. Lynton was better dressed than his usual sober self. He reminded her of the young lord he used to be, except he moved without a self-assured swagger to his step. Right now, he seemed uneasy. “How may I help you?”

“We need to talk, Essy, in private.”

Although she didn’t particularly care for the idea, she retreated to her bedchamber, leaving Lynton to follow if he dared. He’d likely caused enough gossip already by demanding to see her this way. What was one scandal more to cap off the day?