The viscountess’s voice held a touch of an accent, but Sara couldn’t place it. “I’m sorry if I’ve been staring.”
“Oh, Alec is used to it. No one can see the two of them without commenting on the similarities. It is even more pronounced when they are together.” She looked at Sara and offered a frank smile. “Devilishly handsome, aren’t they?”
Sara found herself returning the smile. “Far more than is good for them.”
“Exactly what I’ve been telling Hunterston for years now. Since we are family, I wish you would call me Julia. I still don’t care much for titles and all that. I’m an American, you know.”
“Only if you’ll call me Sara.”
“What a pretty name! I must say, you caught us by surprise. We’ve been in the country and didn’t realize Bridgeton had returned. Or married, for that matter.”
“It wasn’t really his decision,” Sara said, then colored when Julia raised her brows.
“Don’t look like that,” Julia said. “It wasn’t Alec’s decision, either. But it was good for him, nonetheless. Where is Bridgeton?” She turned her sharp gaze around the room as if she expected Nick to step out from behind the curtains. “I can’t see him just leaving you to wander about without him.”
Sara’s expression must have given her away, for Julia immediately patted her hand and turned the topic. When the viscountess revealed she had just three months ago given birth to her second child, Sara’s curiosity was caught and she found herself asking an unusual number of questions. Catching a speculative gleam in the viscountess’s eye, Sara feared that she had revealed far more than she meant to.
The musical performance finally started. Julia remained with Sara throughout, including the pause for refreshments, and told her a great deal about the entire Hunterston household. The party broke up as soon as the entertainment ended.
As Julia and her husband returned home in their carriage, she said, “That was a lovely evening.”
“The soup was cold, the meat overcooked, and the pianoforte out of tune.”
“Besides that, it was pleasant.”
“Hmm,” he said in a noncommittal voice.
Her gaze narrowed. “In fact, I thought the company made the gathering especially interesting.” When her husband didn’t respond, she said pointedly, “Didn’t you?”
Alec pulled his hat over his eyes, then crossed his arms as if preparing to nap.
Julia moved to his side of the carriage. “I spoke at length with Lady Bridgeton.”
Her husband pushed his hat back and sighed. “Lady Langtry seemed to think there is a rift between them. A permanent one, to judge by the way she mentioned it.”
“We can’t let that happen. Sara is despondent. And with a baby on the way…” She bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears.
“Julia, you cannot expect me to get involved in Nick’s business.”
“He’s your cousin, Alec. The only family you have.”
“Do you remember what he tried to do to you?”
“Do you remember how your grandfather treated him?” she countered. “What his mother was? How you believed him a thief and worse? You were wrong then, and you are wrong now.”
“He’s not worth the effort.”
“Sara thinks he is.”
Alec made an impatient noise. “Julia, I am not going to visit Nick and that is that. Besides, we’re leaving in the morning.”
“Then go and see him now.” She leaned against him, looping her arms about his neck. “Alec, please. If you won’t do it for Nick, then do it for the baby. Find out what is wrong and see if you can set it straight.”
He could never refuse Julia when she pleaded for one of her lost causes. Sighing heavily, he took her hand and placed a kiss on it. “Very well.”
Still, he couldn’t help but wish to hell that Nick had stayed in France.
“I’m sorry, but His Lordship is not at home,” the elderly retainer announced.
Alec shoved his hat and gloves into the man’s hands. “He will be home for me.”
“But sir—”
“I am His Lordship’s cousin, and he will be most distressed if you do not give me entrance.” To Alec’s surprise, the butler regarded him suspiciously.
Alec sighed. “Look at my face. See the resemblance?”
The butler peered at him, squinting in a horrendous fashion. “My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be, but I don’t think—”
“Damn it.” He stepped past the butler and cupped his hands to his mouth. “NICK!”
“My lord, please!” the butler said.
Alec had just cupped his hands to his mouth again when he heard a door to his right open.
“What—” Nick stood in the doorway, his shirt undone, his face shadowed and lined with fatigue. “Hunterston. What the hell do you want?”
“Julia sent me.”
Nick turned, slamming the door closed behind him.
Alec winked at the butler, then followed Nick into the room.
“Bloody hell,” Nick muttered as he dropped into a chair. “What have I done to deserve this?”
Alec noticed that a half-empty bottle of brandy sat on the table at Nick’s elbow, but no glass was in sight. “I met your wife last night.”
An arrested expression crossed Nick’s face.
“She looked fine—or as fine as can be expected. Do you mind if I sit?”
“As if you’d remain standing if I said no.”
Alec grinned. “True.” He picked up a glass lying on its side on the desk, then sat in a chair across from Nick.
After a noticeable pause, Nick handed him the bottle. “Where did you see Sara?”
“At a dinner party. Julia was quite taken with her.” Alec poured himself a healthy measure of brandy and passed the bottle back to Nick. He wasn’t interested in drinking at this hour, but the more he put in his glass, the less would be in Nick’s bottle. “Of course, Julia is taken with every creature in need.”
“Sara’s not a charity case,” Nick said harshly. “I saw to that. And she’ll have this house, too, once—” He broke off, his mouth clamped shut.
Alec raised his brows. “Once what?”
Nick didn’t answer. Instead, he stared down at the bottle in his hand. “From the first moment I saw her, I wanted her. But not as a wife. As a mistress.”
“Then why’d you marry her?”
“A rare moment of altruism. That, and she has a brother the size of a mountain. Several, in fact.”
“I can’t imagine either of those things affecting you.”
Nick shrugged. “However it was, I married her and then…” He lifted the bottle in a silent salute, then took a long drink. “And then I found I’d made an even greater mistake.”
Alec knew this story all too well. “Something changed.”
Nick’s mouth curved into a sneer. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Hunterston. I’m not completely besotted. Just somewhat.”
“I see.” Julia had been right. Alec marveled at his wife’s ability to ascertain people’s needs with the barest of conversations. “Julia thinks Sara cares for you, Bridgeton.”
“She…No, it doesn’t matter. I can’t have her.”
“Don’t be an idiot. She’s your wife.”
“She’s everything. But if she stayed with me, I would just hurt her.” Nick’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “So here I am, alone in my grand house, waiting for the end, while the only woman I’ll ever love is only three miles from my bed.”
This was a different Nick indeed, Alex realized with surprise. When Nick had first come to live at their grandfather’s, they’d been close, almost like brothers. Unfortunately, that had all changed when their grandfather had accused Nick of theft and Alec had blindly believed the old man. It hadn’t been true, and that one moment of doubt had killed the warmth between them. “What happened between you and Sara?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. But if I go home to Julia
without a complete explanation, my life will be hell.”
“I’m already there.” Nick sighed and leaned his head against the back of his chair. “I sent her away.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want her to see me become my mother.”
Alec frowned at the bleakness in Nick’s voice. “Your mother was addicted to laudanum. How could you possibly become like her?”
“She suffered from headaches—just as I do. The laudanum came later, to kill the pain.”
“Are the headaches that bad?”
“God, yes—and getting worse. I can fight it now, but the day will come when I cannot. Alec, I can’t let Sara see me like that.”
“I see. And what will you do about your child?”
At first, Nick thought he’d heard incorrectly. But Alec’s steady gaze told him otherwise. “God, no.” He bolted from his chair. “She can’t be! I sent her away as soon as I realized—” He sank back into his chair and dropped his head in his hands.
Alec swore. “You didn’t know.”
Nick stared with unseeing eyes at the floor, the room shimmering out of focus. All week he’d dreamed about Sara, yearned for her with a burning that never lessened. He feared it was only a matter of time before he weakened and went after her, and he prayed she’d hate him enough to resist him. “How far along is she?”
“I don’t know. Julia just said…Maybe she’s wrong, Nick. Julia sometimes assumes things and it’s possible—”
“No. She wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Bloody hell.” Nick pressed his hands over his eyes. “But I don’t want her to see me when—”
“Damn it, Nick, don’t you understand what marriage is all about? You made the vows. You promised to be with each other forever. No matter what happens to you, no matter what happens to her, you are together. It’s not fair for you to shut her out just because you fear something is going wrong.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Like hell I don’t. Every man fears dying, Nick. But you don’t know when, and you don’t know how. You could get thrown from your horse tomorrow and break your neck.” Alec shrugged. “And Sara might fall down the stairs and—”
“No!” Nick surged from his chair, the image of Sara’s broken body flashing before his eyes. “Damn you, Alec. Get the hell out of here!”
His jaw taut with anger, Alec rose. He went to the door and then paused, his hand on the knob. “Think about it, Nick. You can live your life wishing for what you don’t have, or you can accept the many gifts you already possess. The decision is yours.”
Nick closed his eyes as Alec’s steps retreated down the hallway. His mind raced, flickering through a thousand possibilities.
Perhaps Sara had been right about his headaches. Perhaps there was a cure, or at least a way to lessen the pain. He was afraid to hope, but for Sara, he would at least try. He owed it to her and their unborn child. His child.
Every fear he’d ever had congealed in his breast, pressing against his heart, suffocating him. “Oh, God, no.” The words slipped from his stiff lips, an agony and a cry.
Nick looked at the bottle of brandy still clamped in his hand. With a feeling of disgust, he threw it as hard as he could. The bottle crashed against a wall and broke into a thousand pieces.
Chapter 22
The sitting room of Lady Langtry’s town house was an especially pleasant room. Facing the front of the house, it caught the warm morning sun. Sitting in her favorite chair, Delphi looked up from her embroidery and watched Sara and Anna contemplate a particularly absurd fashion plate. All told, she thought Sara was coming around rather nicely. Although there was a sad turn to her lips and her eyes held a rather tragic expression, her color was returning, and her appetite was healthy. Which was a good thing, considering she was to have a child.
The thought of a baby made Delphi unaccountably sad. She’d always wanted children, but fate hadn’t given her the chance. She looked down at the perfect row of stitches she’d just sewn. Maybe it hadn’t been fate. Maybe it had been she, herself.
The thought caught her. Had she unwittingly put her own life on hold all those years? But why? Why had she spent her adult life tending her relatives’ children, serving as nursemaid for her own aunts and uncles, and even serving as chaperone for the younger ones? She cast a furtive glance at Sara. Not that she begrudged her family whatever assistance she could offer, but still…she wasn’t sure she knew what life really was. She’d gone from dutiful daughter to dutiful wife to dutiful widow in a matter of months.
Perhaps Henri had been right. Perhaps she was afraid. And now…when she looked ahead, all she saw was more of the same. Years and years of living for other people. A lump in her throat, Delphi blinked away her tears.
Anthony entered the sitting room, pausing briefly when he saw Anna sitting with Sara. Delphi thought they made a lovely picture together, Sara’s dark coloring a striking contrast with Anna’s vibrant red. Apparently Anthony didn’t agree though, for his face darkened and he looked away, coming to Delphi and placing a kiss on her cheek. “How are you today, Aunt?”
She managed a smile. “Very well, thank you.”
“I think Sara should go to London,” Anna said. “She has no reason to stay in Bath. Besides, London has the best doctors, and she will be far more comfortable there, among her friends.”
Anthony’s mouth stretched into a semblance of a smile. “Perhaps you should go. I’m sure we’ll all miss your company, Miss Thraxton.”
“Oh, I plan on going to London.” She smiled sweetly. “I shall make it a point to visit all of you.”
His smile knocked askance, Anthony opened his mouth to reply when a soft knock sounded at the door. The butler appeared, holding a silver salver bearing a single calling card. He crossed the floor and held the salver out to the duchess. “Your Grace, the Earl of Bridgeton has come to call.”
Delphi took the card, sending an uncertain glance at Sara.
“I will not see him,” she said, a stricken look in her eyes.
“And so you shan’t,” Delphi said soothingly. She tossed the card back on the salver. “Please tell the earl that we are not in.”
He gave an impassive nod, then left. As soon as the door closed, Anthony said, “You can’t keep him away forever, Sara. He’s your husband.”
“Nonsense,” Anna said with a sniff. “He may be her husband, but he has wronged her, and she shouldn’t be made to suffer his presence.”
“Perhaps what he has to say is important,” Anthony said. He shot a harsh look at Anna. “Very important.”
Sara continued to look at the fashion plates, but the color in her cheeks told Delphi she was listening intently to every word.
“Oh, dear,” Delphi said, “perhaps it wouldn’t hurt just to see him—”
Anna made an impatient sound. “Lord Bridgeton doesn’t deserve such courtesy!”
“Pardon me,” Anthony said, “but I don’t believe this conversation has anything to do with you, Miss Thraxton. Kindly keep your opinions to yourself.”
“It is a pity you don’t follow your own advice, Lord Greyley,” Anna shot back.
A brief scuffle sounded out in the hall. Anthony turned toward the door as it opened and in walked Nick.
He immediately looked toward Sara, whose gaze was now rigidly fastened on a fashion plate. Anna, likewise, appeared engrossed.
Anthony nodded. “Bridgeton.”
Nick returned the greeting, then looked back at Sara. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I must speak to my wife.”
Delphi bit her lip. There was something intense, almost frightening in the way Bridgeton was staring at Sara.
It was all so confusing. On the one hand, it would be best for the child if Sara and Bridgeton could work out their differences. On the other hand, it would be best for Sara not to have to deal with such an undiscerning man.
Of course, there really wasn’t such a thing as a discerning man. Just look at the comte.
 
; As if in answer to her thoughts, another soft knock sounded at the door. The butler reappeared with yet another card. “Your Grace, the Comte du Lac.”
Delphi blinked. Henri? Here? Her thoughts in disarray, she stared at the card with unseeing eyes. Taking her silence as agreement, the butler bowed and left. A scant moment later, the door reopened and Henri appeared.
He came straight to her side and took her hand. “Your Grace.” He bowed, his lips brushing her knuckles.
Heat suffused Delphi’s face, and she wondered suddenly if fate had given her another chance. She hoped she had the strength to accept it. She managed to smile, tightening her fingers over his.
Henri’s gaze widened, a flush touching his cheeks.
“Henri!” Bridgeton’s low growl came from behind him. “What are you doing here?”
Henri reluctantly released Delphi’s hand. “I was walking past the house when I saw the young ladies seated here, and they made such a charming tableau that I had to come in.”
“This is the second floor, Henri,” Nick said dryly. “You must have had a very long neck to win such a sight, fetching though it is.”
Delphi watched with interest. It was difficult to imagine two more different men. The one was so suave and warm, the other cold and controlled. Today, though, the earl lacked his normal air of command. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, making him appear more intent, more dangerous; his hair was mussed and his cravat hastily knotted. A faint sheen of golden stubble even covered his cheeks. He looked disheveled and, if possible, more handsome than ever.
She slipped a glance toward Sara, but her stubborn niece was glaring down at the fashion plates as if they had offended her. Things did not bode well for the earl. Oh, dear; it was such a difficult predicament.
At a loss, Delphi caught Henri’s gaze. He nodded toward the door.
Delphi’s hand tightened on her embroidery frame. Here was her chance. Her one and, perhaps, only chance. Collecting her shaky resolve, she stood. “Well, it is certainly warm in this room. If you don’t mind, I believe I will retire to the breakfast room. It is much cooler there.”