Mr. Burke looked around, his expression going from playful to cautious. “So where is that devoted brother of mine?”
Anne had been dreading the question. “I’m afraid Lord Dravenwood is otherwise occupied at the moment.”
Burke exchanged a knowing glance with his wife. “That’s just about what I would have expected of dear old Max. So how does he occupy his time these days? Counting his gold? Conducting mock battles with his tin soldiers as he used to do with me when we were lads?” Burke wagged his eyebrows at Anne. “Flogging the peasants?”
Anne had even more difficulty hiding her smile this time. “I can assure you Cadgwyck Manor has no shortage of pursuits to keep your brother’s attentions engaged. Now, if you’ll allow me to show you to your rooms . . .”
She turned only to run smack-dab into the door. Bloody hell, she thought. Hodges must have locked it behind her as soon as she exited the house. She reached to her waist for her ring of keys only to discover she must have left them on the kitchen table.
Casting an apologetic look over her shoulder at their guests, she called out cheerfully, “Hodges! I seem to have accidentally locked the door. Would you mind unlocking it?” When her gracious request met with only silence, she leaned closer to the door and hissed, “Hodges! Open the door this minute!”
After a muffled “Very good, ma’am,” the door swung open to admit them.
Hodges stood there, beaming at them like a demented cherub, his hair nearly as wild as his eyes. Praying their guests wouldn’t notice his odd demeanor, or would at least be too polite to comment upon it, Anne ushered them through the entrance hall.
As she led them up the stairs and past Angelica’s portrait, she stole a glance at Mr. Burke, curious to see if his reaction would mirror his brother’s and that of every other man who had ever laid eyes on it.
Strangely enough, Mrs. Burke noticed the portrait first. “Oh my! What an enchanting creature she is!”
Her husband cast the portrait a brief, disinterested glance before slipping an arm around his wife’s waist and murmuring something in her ear. She laughed aloud and smacked him playfully on the arm. Apparently, the earl’s brother only had eyes for his wife, a realization that left Anne with a strangely wistful ache in her heart.
“MY LORD, MR. BURKE is here to see you.” Anne stood in the doorway of the study, fully prepared to duck should her employer hurl a ledger, an inkwell, or perhaps a globe of the world at her head.
She had done exactly as instructed—seen to it that the earl’s brother and his family were served a mediocre supper, sans bread—shown Mrs. Burke and her daughter to their rooms, and then informed Mr. Burke his brother would see him in the study.
“Very well. Show him in,” Dravenwood said without looking up, his tone clipped but civil. He was still seated behind the desk, surrounded by his moat of ledgers. Anne was beginning to suspect he used the desk as a barrier to keep everyone at arm’s length.
She ushered Mr. Burke into the room, then turned to go.
“Stay.”
Caught off guard by his command, Anne turned back to find Dravenwood glowering at her from beneath the raven wings of his eyebrows. She didn’t dare defy him, not with his looking at her as if she were a peasant who might just require a sound flogging as soon as they were left alone.
Fascinated against her will by his desire to keep her close, she moved to stand dutifully in the corner of the room. The earl’s brother gave her a curious look before sinking into the worn leather wing chair situated at an angle to the front of the desk with a negligent grace that had probably always escaped his more formal brother. With the two men facing each other across the desk, both their similarities and their differences stood out in stark relief.
Dravenwood surveyed Burke through eyes as cool as Anne had ever seen them. “So to what do I owe the dubious honor of this visit?”
To Mr. Burke’s credit, he didn’t waste time on pleasantries that would neither be appreciated nor returned. “We came to inform you that we’re leaving England. We decided early on that we didn’t belong at Dryden Hall, but were waiting for Charlotte to grow old enough to travel. It probably won’t surprise you to learn the life of a country lord and his lady doesn’t suit either one of us.”
Although the earl struggled to hide it, he appeared to be more surprised than his brother had anticipated. “But where will you go?”
“To Morocco first to visit Farouk and Poppy. Poppy is expecting their first child and would like Clarinda to remain with her until the babe is born. Then it’s on to Egypt. Now that I’ve somehow managed to convince Father I’m not a complete wastrel, he’s expressed interest in funding an archaeological expedition just outside of Giza.”
“And just what will Clarinda do while you’re out digging for buried treasure? Do you really believe that to be a suitable environment for a wife and child?”
“Clarinda wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m afraid she developed quite a taste for adventure and the exotic while a guest in Farouk’s harem. And besides, I don’t think she ever intends to let me out of her sight again.” Burke’s crooked smile freely admitted he wasn’t entirely displeased with that development.
Dravenwood leaned back in his chair, surveying his brother through hooded eyes. “Why did you really come here, Ash? To rub my nose in your wedded bliss? I know I deserve it—and far worse—but if you’re seeking to punish me for what I did to the two of you, I can promise you there’s no need. I’m quite capable of punishing myself.”
Anne frowned, wondering what transgression Dravenwood could possibly have committed against his brother and his brother’s wife.
All traces of humor fled Burke’s face, leaving it uncharacteristically somber. “We didn’t come here to gloat, Max. We came here to say good-bye. We have no way of knowing how long we’ll be gone from these shores. And Clarinda had some sentimental notion that you might want to meet your niece before we left. She could very well be a woman grown before you’ll have another chance to see her.” When his brother continued to survey him through dispassionate eyes, Burke sat up on the edge of his seat. “I have to confess that I also wanted to make my own good-byes. I realize things between us have been a little . . . um . . . strained in the past few years, but I can still remember a time when it was you and me doing battle with the rest of the world. Our swords may have been nothing but a pair of tree branches, but I always knew I could depend on you to protect my back. No matter what has transpired since then, you’re still my brother. You’ll always be my brother.” As Burke extended his hand across the desk, inviting Dravenwood to take it, Anne held her breath without realizing it.
Leaving his brother’s hand hanging in midair, Dravenwood asked, “When will you be leaving Cadgwyck?”
“Early tomorrow morning. Our ship departs from Falmouth on Thursday.”
“Very well, then. I wish you Godspeed.” With that, Dravenwood went back to jotting down figures in his ledger, rejecting his brother’s offer of reconciliation with no further fanfare.
Yanking back his hand, Burke surged to his feet, looking even more like his older brother now that he was angry. He stood there, glaring at the top of his brother’s head. “I had hoped time might have softened your heart, but I can see you’re still the same intractable ass that you always were.”
With that, Burke turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with satisfying force. Dravenwood lifted his head to stare at the door for a moment, his face curiously blank, then rose from the desk and moved to gaze into the leaping flames on the hearth, his broad back to Anne.
She crept out of her corner, beset by an almost overwhelming urge to ease the stiffness of his stance with a comforting word or a smile. After all, there must have been some reason he’d asked her to stay and witness such a painfully private exchange.
“My lord?” she said softly. “I may be speaking out of turn, but I hate to see you at such painful odds with your own brother.” She cleared her throat, c
hoosing her words with care. “I had a brother once, you see. He used to drive me mad with his bossiness and his teasing. But I always knew in my heart that if anyone dared to wrong me, he would knock them flat. I never thanked him for that or told him how much he meant to me. I just assumed that if I reached out, he would always be there.” She swallowed, a familiar heaviness weighting down her heart. “Until the day he wasn’t.”
Dravenwood continued to contemplate the flames, showing no sign that he was considering her words, or even that he had heard them.
“I’d give anything to have my brother back, to hear his laughter or be able to take his hand in mine.” Anne crept closer, addressing that unyielding back. “What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t let pride make you wait until it’s too late to reconcile with Mr. Burke. We can never know what the morrow might bring.”
Dravenwood was silent for a long moment before finally saying, “You’re right, Mrs. Spencer.” Anne’s heart surged with warmth. She was about to ask him if he wanted her to fetch his brother back when he continued, “You are speaking out of turn, and in the future I’d appreciate it if you would strive to remember your place. That will be all,” he added, making it clear he had no further need of her or anyone else.
ANNE WAS STANDING BENEATH the portico the next morning, watching Mr. Burke and his family prepare to climb into their waiting coach, when her employer emerged from the house and stalked right past her, his handsome face grim with determination. The shadows beneath his eyes bespoke of a sleepless night, much like Anne’s own had been.
“Where are you going?” she called after him, too startled to add my lord or to remember his affairs were none of her concern. He had made that abundantly clear last night in the study.
“To bid my brother and his family a proper farewell,” he growled, starting down the stairs at a rapid clip. “I would hardly be a gracious host if I didn’t.” He shot her a virulent look over one shoulder. “And as you were so kind to remind me, we never know what the morrow might bring.”
Anne picked up the hem of her skirts and hurried down the stairs after him, fearful it wasn’t reconciliation but murder that was about to be done. As the earl’s long strides carried him toward the coach, his brother froze while offering his wife a hand to assist her into the vehicle. Mr. and Mrs. Burke exchanged a cautious glance, but before either of them could react, their little girl wiggled her way out of her mother’s grip and slid to the ground.
“Charlotte!” her mother cried out.
It was too late. Charlotte was already barreling her way back up the drive on her fat, little legs, shrieking, “Unca Max! Unca Max!” at the top of her lungs.
Dravenwood stopped in his tracks, looking like a man about to be crushed beneath the hooves of a team of runaway horses. The little girl skidded to a halt and began to bounce up and down on her heels, holding her arms up to him. She was obviously accustomed to being greeted with open arms wherever she went. Much like Angelica Cadgwyck must have been.
Anne had never seen such a powerful man look so helpless. She held her breath, fearing for a moment that he wasn’t even going to acknowledge the child’s presence. But he slowly bent down, folding his tall frame to scoop her up into his arms.
As he straightened back to his full height, Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a baby spider monkey for a minute before leaning back and giving him a chiding look from green eyes that were a mirror of her mother’s. “Don’t look so sad, Unca Max. We be back soon.” She pressed a noisy kiss to his cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder, her silvery-blond hair looking even fairer next to the darkness of his own.
By that time, her parents had caught up with her.
Burke held out his arms for the child, but Dravenwood showed no sign of relinquishing her. “I don’t understand,” Dravenwood said, the bewilderment reflected in his eyes tugging at Anne’s heart. “How does the child know who I am?”
“Oh, I told her all about you,” his sister-in-law confessed, a smile touching her lips. “How you used to help me with my sums when I was a little girl so my governess wouldn’t rap my knuckles with her ruler. How you bandaged up my stuffed bear after he lost an eye because I had left him out in the rain all night. How you rescued me from that feral dog when I was twelve and carried me all the way home in your arms.”
Burke folded his arms over his chest, looking dangerously sulky. “And I told her how your toy soldiers always bested mine in battle when we were lads and how you used to sink my wooden battleships in the tub while that awful German nurse was making me wash behind my ears.”
The earl glanced down at the flaxen head resting so comfortably against his shoulder before lifting his eyes to his sister-in-law’s face. “You’re as shameless as ever, aren’t you, Clarinda?” he said softly. “You knew that if I ever laid eyes on her, I’d be helpless to resist her charms.”
“Come, Charlotte,” Burke said gently, holding out his arms to his daughter. “It’s time for us to go.”
Dravenwood cradled the child close for a moment, burying his face in her sleek hair, before reluctantly surrendering her to his brother.
Before Burke could turn away, Dravenwood awkwardly thrust a hand toward him. Burke gazed warily down at it, then lifted his eyes to his brother’s face. Although Dravenwood’s scowl was as ferocious as ever, Anne would have sworn she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
She was afraid Burke was going to reject his brother’s offer just as his brother had rejected his. But Burke shifted Charlotte to the crook of his other arm and seized Dravenwood’s hand in a hearty grasp. Then Burke turned and carried his daughter toward the waiting coach, leaving his wife and his brother facing each other in the drive. For some reason she could not fathom, Anne began to feel like even more of an intruder. But it was too late to creep back up to the portico without attracting notice to herself.
Dravenwood gazed down at his sister-in-law, his expression once again inscrutable. “Are you going to give me another well-deserved slap before you go as you did at our last meeting? Sometimes I fancy I can still feel the sting of it.”
The woman reached up to touch her gloved fingertips to his cheek, then stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to the exact same spot. “That’s all in the past now, Max,” she murmured. “All I wish for you is the same happiness I have found. I’ll never forget all you’ve done for me. Or why you did it.”
She was turning away from him when she spotted Anne standing awkwardly off to the side. Giving her brother-in-law a sly sideways glance, she crossed to Anne and whispered in her ear, “Look after him, won’t you, Mrs. Spencer? He’s always been too proud to admit it, but he needs it very badly.”
Stunned by the woman’s candor and keenly aware of her employer’s scrutiny, Anne could only nod.
As Dravenwood watched Clarinda Burke turn and walk away to join her husband and child, Anne felt her own heart wrench. She would almost have sworn she had seen that look in his eyes before.
Off for adventures unknown, the handsome young family crowded into the coach, leaving their host standing stiffly in the middle of the drive. As the coach began to jolt its way down the rutted drive, his niece leaned out the window, frantically waving her little, white-gloved hand. “G’bye, Unca Max! G’bye!”
Dravenwood lifted a hand. He didn’t lower it again until the coach rolled out of sight, swallowed by the sweeping grasses of the moor. He stood there staring after them for a long time after they’d gone, his dark hair dancing in the wind.
Emboldened by her unspoken promise to Mrs. Burke, Anne drew closer to him and gently touched the back of his coat sleeve. He turned to give her a narrow look. “Just what did my sister-in-law say to you?”
Anne’s hand fell back to her side. She briefly considered lying, but the challenge in his gaze stopped her. “She asked me to look after you.”
“How very charitable of her. But I’m afraid I don’t require looking after. I’m quite capable of looking a
fter myself.” Without another word, he went stalking toward the weed-clotted breezeway separating the main section of the house from the east wing, heading for the cliffs.
“Then why did you command me to stay in the study last night while you were speaking to your brother?” she called after him.
He hesitated for the briefest second, then kept walking as if she hadn’t even spoken.
He was her employer. She was obligated to respect his wishes. Her duty was to meekly return to the house and find something to sweep or dust or polish so he could brood in privacy and continue to mourn his lost fiancée and punish himself for whatever terrible transgression he believed he had committed against his brother and sister-in-law.
Anne lifted her chin, feeling her temper start to rise. For the first time in a long while, she had no intention of doing what she should do. Contrary to what she’d let everyone believe for the past several years, she was not a woman who would so easily be dismissed.
Chapter Twenty
WHEN ANNE EMERGED AT the back of the house, it wasn’t the spectacular view from the cliffs that made her steps slow and her breath catch in her throat, but the man standing at their edge.
Dravenwood stood with one boot propped on a large rock, gazing out to sea as if transfixed by what he saw before him. Something about his stance was irresistibly timeless and masculine. He could have been a pirate king, waiting to board a ship so he could sail the high seas to ravish and plunder. Or one of Arthur’s knights, dreaming of the lady fair he had left behind in Camelot to pine for his return.
“You might have warned me,” he said without turning around as she approached.
Anne would have sworn she hadn’t so much as kicked a pebble to betray her presence. She was quickly learning he was a difficult man to catch unawares. She joined him at the cliff’s edge. “About what?”
He swept a hand toward the breathtaking vista stretched out before them. “This.”