Page 70 of The Earl and His Lady

Phillip held her hand, not something he had done a great deal of late, as his new grandmother and step-father disappeared down the lane. He squeezed her fingers, bringing her attention down to him.

“Do you think he’ll be back before our fortress is built?”

Lucas had kept his word and hired a carpenter from the village to begin construction on the little hideaway for the boys, at the trees by the lake. But the carpenter would likely be done in a matter of days, not the weeks that the earl would be away.

“I doubt he will return that soon,” Virginia answered with what she hoped was a cheerful tone. “But I am certain he will want to see it the moment he returns. He was quite taken with the crow’s nest.”

Phillip nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. Edward had been at the bottom of the steps when the carriage pulled away, then became distracted by the activity of a beetle crawling along on the ground. He spoke a trifle absently from where he was crouched, making his study.

“He really did like it. He took my drawing of the crow’s nest with him. I think he took all my drawings.”

Virginia raised her eyebrows. Lucas had told her he’d been keeping Edward’s artwork. But why take it all on his journey? “He must’ve wished to keep them close,” she said.

“Yes.” Edward stood, having finally lost interest in the beetle. “Can we go feed King Lud a treat?”

The boys had been delighted to see their father’s favorite horse again. How had Lucas known what it would mean to them? How did he always know what they needed?

Dismissing that thought, Virginia smiled at the two little hopeful faces turned up to her. “I suppose you may, but only a vegetable each this time. You’re going to spoil that horse and he won’t be fit company for anyone.”

Phillip grinned and turned to run through the house.

“Walk like gentlemen, if you please,” Virginia called after them. Both boys slowed only a few steps into the entry hall, but not by much. Entering the house, Virginia took one last look down the empty lane before shutting the door behind her.

¤

Three weeks, which felt more like three-hundred years, had gone by. Lucas had finished visiting his properties. It hadn’t taken as long as he’d hoped, due to the very efficient men he had hired to manage the estates in his stead. There wasn’t as much for him to do as he’d hoped. It didn’t help that every place he went, within hours he was longing for Annesbury Park. He missed Virginia’s company at breakfast and in the evenings. They didn’t speak of profound things, but their conversation on the household, the day’s events, and the boys had been something he looked forward to.

The boys. Had the carpenter completed his work? Were they even now up in the trees, spying on the world beneath them? He would wager his finest horse that Edward would have created a number of masterpieces for him in his absence. He would likely need to restock the nursery’s paper supply.

Which was as good a reason as any to return to London. He had sent Edward’s drawings to town with his mother, and the project he’d given her was likely completed. Lucas could pick up paper, Edward’s drawings, and find gifts for the boys. Of course, he didn’t know when he might see the children again. He’d believed a few weeks would be enough to gain mastery over his emotions, but every time he thought he had made progress, the simplest thing would fill his thoughts and heart with Virginia.

That day, before leaving for London, it had been a peacock. His neighbor kept the dreadfully loud creatures, but one had wandered onto the lawn beside Lucas’s carriage. It had fanned its tail and promenaded about, as if to dare Lucas’s staff to remove it. The feathers had glistened in a brief burst of sunlight, blues, browns, greens, creating a beautiful display of color. Lucas thought immediately of Virginia’s beautiful green eyes, a color so rich and dark he understood the comparison to precious stones. But her eyes were more alive than an emerald could be, and never as cold.

He wanted to be by her side to catch a glimpse of those eyes when she laughed.

Lucas shut his heart away again and again, determined to ignore its pining.

Perhaps being in London for a time would distract him sufficiently.

Did they miss him at all? He’d kept his word, sending a letter to Virginia every time he left one property for another. She hadn’t written back. That should indicate fairly well that she did not at all care for his company, as was right. She was a grieving widow. Even society expected her to continue her mourning.

When the carriage rolled into London, his mind was still miles away, along with his heart, at Annesbury Park.

Chapter Twenty-six

For the fifth time that day, Virginia closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.

Her mother had come to visit, arriving on August first. She had been present for a week. Lucas had been gone for four weeks. Counting the days after counting to ten was sometimes necessary as well.

“Really, you ought to change the whole house, especially since he’s gone, for he cannot object.” Lady Jacqueline Crawlton, Dowager Countess of Vinespar, had a decided opinion on everything. But Virginia had never witnessed her mother’s Machiavellian instincts manifest themselves this plainly. “Not a single stick of furniture that she chose ought to remain.”

The she, of course, was Lady Abigail Calvert, Lucas’s first wife.

“I see no reason for that, Mother,” Virginia said, calmly dipping her pen in ink as she wrote an invitation to Christine. Again. She’d begged her cousin to visit as often as possible during her mother’s stay. “I rather like most of the furnishings. I have thought of refreshing the rooms by moving a few things around, but nothing so extraordinary that would require a complete redecoration.”

“I like the rooms, too,” Rebecca Devon said from her place on the settee across the room. Rebecca was Christine’s younger sister and had been given into her Aunt Jacqueline’s care. The hope was that Rebecca would be molded into the young woman her father expected her to be. So far, Virginia doubted her mother was having much of an effect on the girl. “They’re bright and cheerful.”

Virginia could well imagine the frosty glance that comment earned from her mother.