CHAPTER TWELVE
Not slowing her frantic pace until she was well out of sight of Lord Calfield, Kate at last came to a halt to lean against a large oak tree. She closed her eyes and allowed the threatening tears to fall freely down her cheeks.
Oh, blast it all. Why had she come?
Because she had felt a measure of sympathy for Luce? Because she could not entirely dismiss a sense of guilt at his current plight? Because she was concerned for a friend?
Those were the reasons she had given herself on the long trek to Calfield Park. All perfectly logical reasons.
And perfectly logical lies.
She had come for one reason and one reason only.
Because for all her proud claims that she would not be wed for her wealth, for all her insistence that she was determined to live a life of adventure, what she hungered for was love.
A simple, uncomplicated love that did not demand obedience or make her constantly fear that she was about to disappoint. A love that filled her heart and her life with the contentment she had been seeking.
She wanted Luce to love her as she loved him.
Fool. Fool. Fool.
Forcing herself to straighten before she froze to the tree in the chilled breeze, Kate reluctantly continued back toward her father’s estate. Luce had made it painfully obvious that he did not welcome her reappearance back into his life.
And in truth, she could not blame him.
She had been brutally clear that she would never trust him. And that she intended to leave London with Lord Thorpe. No gentleman, especially not one with Luce’s pride, would readily forgive such insults.
Why had she been so stubborn? She had driven away the one gentleman who had ever shown such patience, such kindness, and such tender concern. And all because of callow fear.
Shivering, she bent her head and plodded onward. At least she should be relieved that her father appeared unaware of her brief days of rebellion, she sternly told herself. Her return had inspired no more than a rather mild lecture upon traveling home without the proper attendants, and a warning that she must be vigilant in avoiding undue attention. She had, after all, possessed the bad taste to allow herself to be abandoned at the altar. It would not do to stir up the unpleasant gossip by any forward behavior.
For once, she had allowed his words to simply flow over her. Somehow her brief taste of independence had given her the insight to believe that her father did not deliberately attempt to hurt her. In his own way, he did care for her. It was simply because he had been so deeply betrayed by her mother that he feared to trust again.
Just as she had feared.
Heaving a faint sigh, she at last came in view of the small but meticulously tidy manor house. Despite its age, Rosehill maintained an air of pristine care and obvious wealth. A decided contrast to the vast but rambling estate she had just left behind. An estate clearly upon the edge of ruin.
Kate ruthlessly squelched the pain that threatened to bloom in the region of her heart. Calfield Park, or anything else related to Luce, was not her concern, as he had so succinctly reminded her. Not anymore.
Crossing the path that led toward the back of the estate, she used a side door to enter the house. She had expected to discover the small parlor empty at such an hour, and her heart sank as Julia abruptly rose from a chair near the window to regard her with concern.
She had hoped to escape to her bedchamber. At least until she had managed to have a good cry and somehow regained command of her wounded composure.
Now she was forced to paste a stiff smile to her lips. “Good morning, Julia.”
“Kate.” Moving forward, Julia narrowed her gaze, clearly not at all fooled by her casual manner. “I have been searching for you since breakfast. Where have you been?”
“I decided upon a stroll.”
The dark-haired woman glanced in surprise at the frost-kissed windows. “It is rather chilled for such an early stroll, is it not?”
Kate shrugged, hiding her expression as she turned to remove the bonnet from her curls. “You know the cold has never troubled me. And I felt the need for some fresh air.”
“Obviously, you felt the need for a great deal of fresh air. You have been gone near two hours.”
Rather annoyed by being put through the Inquisition when she only wished to flee to the privacy of her room, Kate abruptly frowned at her cousin.
“I am not a child, Julia. If I desire to stroll for two hours, there is no reason I should not be allowed to do so,” she said in exasperated tones.
Julia abruptly wrinkled her nose as she realized that she had been more than a tad intrusive. “Forgive me, Kate. You are correct. But I was concerned.”
“Concerned? Why ever would you be concerned?”
There was a moment of silence, as if her cousin were carefully considering her response. “I have watched you since your return and I am worried. You barely touched your dinner last evening or your breakfast this morning, you clearly did not sleep more than a few minutes, and you have muttered less than a half a dozen words. Now you suddenly disappear for hours on end. Can you blame me for being concerned?”
Feeling somewhat abashed at having worried her dear cousin, Kate offered a faintly embarrassed smile. “Forgive me, Julia. I fear I have not yet adjusted to being home.”
Julia stepped closer, reaching out to grasp her cold hands. “And you are certain that is all it is?”
She swallowed heavily. “Of course. What else could it be?”
“Well, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say it was Lord Calfield.”
Kate froze at the soft words. “What?”
“Kate, I went to the hotel to visit you while I was still in London and discovered that you had left town with a Lord Calfield and were not expected back for several days.” Julia captured her unwilling gaze. “Now when the earl suddenly returns to Kent, you return as well. I do not believe it is mere coincidence.”
“I . . .” Kate licked her dry lips. “I could not remain in London forever.”
Julia gave a lift of her brows. “And your distraction has nothing whatsoever to do with your former fiancé?”
“Julia, really.” Pulling her hands free, Kate turned to move across the room. “There is nothing at all between Lord Calfield and me.”
“Even though he followed you to London? Even though you disappeared with him for several days? Even though I suspect you went to call on him this morning?”
Her eyes slid closed as she fought back the wall of pain that hit her at the memory of her brief encounter with Luce. Dear Lord, he had been so cold. So utterly dismissive. Almost as if he hated her.
“Please, Julia, I cannot discuss this now,” she whispered in broken tones.
“Kate.” Slowly crossing the room, her cousin placed warm hands upon her shoulders. “Then there is something?”
“No . . . I mean, he did try to convince me to wed him, but I refused.” She shuddered as her heart clenched in regret. “I was so afraid that he only wanted me for my fortune.”
“And now you believe you might have been mistaken?”
A sad smile curled her lips. “Yes, but in truth it no longer matters. Whatever his reason for wanting me as his bride, I realize now that no one could have offered me greater happiness. When I am with him, I feel beautiful and clever and desirable. More than that, I feel comfortable in a manner I have never before experienced. As if he accepts me precisely as I am.”
“Oh, my dear. It cannot be too late,” Julia said softly. “If you would speak with him . . .”
“No.” Kate abruptly turned to meet the startled dark eyes. “It is not to be, Julia.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“He has made it very clear that he no longer has an interest in having me as his wife.” The tears once again threatened and Kate pressed a hand to her quivering stomach. “Now, please, I only wish to retire to my room until luncheon.”
Julia bit her lip but gave a slow nod of her head. “Of course. If you need me, I will be here.”
“Thank you.”
With an unsteady smile of gratitude, Kate made her way through the room and toward the wide staircase. She knew that Julia was concerned, but at the moment she had no means of reassuring her. Not while her heart was breaking and her nerves were still raw with Luce’s rejection.
Blast it all. Why had she ever returned to Kent?
* * *
Why the devil had she ever returned to Kent?
Luce’s mood, which had already been dark, became positively nasty as he attempted to put Kate from his mind and complete the endless list of duties awaiting his attention.
Dammit all. Was it not bad enough he had spent the week wracked by a sense of aching loss? Or that it had taken every ounce of willpower not to follow Kate to Devonshire and plead for her to allow him a place in her life, no matter how small?
Surely he did not deserve the torture of knowing she was so close and yet unattainable?
Was she deliberately attempting to taunt him? To toy with the raw emotions that refused to heal?
As the long day passed, however, his self-righteous anger began to lessen and his thoughts turned to the reasons for Kate’s unexpected return.
Why was she in Kent? Had she not made it clear she intended to travel to Devonshire with the eager Lord Thorpe at her side?
And more importantly, why had she come to Calfield Park?
Was it merely pity that had led her to brave the chilled air? Or was it something more? Could that darkness in her eyes when she denied having found what she was searching for have been regret?
He grimly attempted to still the flutters of hope deep within him. He had already allowed Kate to rip out his heart and stomp upon it once. Did he truly desire to offer it up for her punishment again?
Only a fool did not learn from his mistakes.
As darkness descended and the soft bustle of the household faded to silence, Luce found himself alone in his library. There were any number of tasks demanding his attention. Indeed, his desk was near overflowing with ledger books, lists of necessary repairs to the various cottages, the bills that had arrived that day, and a stack of journals that revealed the latest farming techniques.
And of course, he did not doubt his mother and sisters were poised just outside the door, prepared to continue their shrill insistence that they could not possibly be expected to live as paupers, despite the fact that that was precisely what they were.
For the moment, all of his troubles were meaningless. He could concentrate on nothing but Kate and her unexpected arrival at Calfield Park.
Bloody hell, he had to know.
Perhaps he was a fool. Perhaps he was only opening himself up for more disappointment. But how could he possibly go through his life if he was plagued with the constant worry he had tossed aside all hope for happiness?
He had already wasted an entire day on the blasted woman. How many more days stretched before him?
Furious with himself and even more so with the woman who had turned his life into this devilish quagmire, Luce abruptly crossed the library and jerked open the door. As expected, his mother nearly tumbled across the threshold, and he smiled grimly as she hastily attempted to appear as if she had not had her ear pressed to the heavy oak panels.
“Luce, there you are.” Nervously smoothing her hands over her skirts, she regarded him with a small sniff. “I began to think you intended to lock yourself in there for the entire evening.”
It certainly had crossed his mind, Luce ruefully acknowledged. He would gladly spend the night in the stables if it would ensure that he was not subjected to another tearful scene.
“Not now, mother,” he sternly cut off the angry words trembling upon her lips. “I have something that needs my attention.”
Her brows snapped together at his imperious tone. “At this time of night? Ridiculous. There is nothing that cannot wait until morning.”
The image of a pale, beautiful countenance with wounded eyes rose to mind. Gads, he would go mad if he could not see Kate.
“No. It cannot wait.”
“But I must speak with you. Nothing can be more important than the needs of your sisters.”
“Actually there is nothing more important than this. Not Calfield Park, not you, and not my sisters.” A grim expression hardened his features. “It has taken too long to realize the truth.”
“Really, Luce.” His mother appeared shocked by his blunt confession. “How can you be so cruel? I cannot think what your father would say.”
“Since father never once bothered with this estate or his family, I cannot conceive that he would say much of anything.” Luce squared his shoulders, not about to be delayed another moment. “Do not fear, mother, I don’t intend to abandon you to the wolves. But neither will I allow the only wonderful thing in my life to slip away without a fight. I must go.”
Leaving his mother floundering in shock, Luce easily swept past her and headed for the foyer. He paused only long enough to gather his greatcoat and gloves before hurrying out of the house and toward the stables. There was an exasperating delay as he attempted to saddle his mount while the sleepy groom protested at not being allowed to perform his duty, but within a few moments he was at last on his way toward Kate’s home.
As he rode through the frosty night air, it occurred to him that it was far too late for a proper call, but that did not slow his steady progress. He had to speak with Kate. He could not waste one further moment.
Nearly consumed by his pulsing yearning, Luce left the main road and crossed over the meadows and fields that surrounded Rosehill. Then, leaving his mount tethered just outside the formal gardens, he stealthily made his way to the main house. Once there, he did not even hesitate to slip through a servant’s passage and up the back steps to the upper chambers.
What was a bit of trespassing between ex-fiancés?
Wincing at every creaking floorboard and silently cursing his heavy boots, which were not at all suited to sneaking about darkened corridors, he made his way toward the east wing of the house. He vaguely recalled Kate once mentioning that her chamber overlooked the rose garden, which would place it at the end of the long corridor. Halting at the last door, he paused. He could only hope that she had not changed rooms and, of course, that she was currently alone.
To simply enter the chamber was a risk, certainly. If he happened in upon Sir Frazer, it would be a bloody scandal.
And he was not wedding Lord Frazer, no matter what his fortune, he assured himself in a lame attempt to lighten the ball of terror lodged in the pit of his stomach.
Feeling more uncertain and fearful than he had ever before in his life, Luce forced his stiff hand to rise and turn the knob. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold. A swift glance revealed the large bed was empty, as was the chaise beside the window. It was the faint glow of a candle that at last drew his attention to the distant corner where Kate was seated before a mirror as she slowly brushed out the titian curls.
In the flickering light, she might have been a siren rising from the shadows. Her skin was a pure alabaster revealed in glorious perfection by the brevity of her linen shift, her eyes were a mysterious green in the reflection, and her satin curls a halo of flame.
Luce felt his world halt.
He could not move. Could not speak. He forgot even to breath.
Then, as if sensing his presence, Kate slowly turned to regard him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“Luce?” she whispered.
Clearing his deranged thoughts enough to close the door, Luce uneasily moved to the center of the room. Beyond the predictable shock at his improper intrusion into her chamber, it was impossible to determine if she was pleased or horrified by his presence.
At last coming to a halt, he forced himself to glance about the elegant room. Anything to keep from staring at her like a lovesick fool.
Surprisingly, there was little of Kate to be seen. Oh, the furnishings were all suitably expensive and situated in the proper positions, but the personal frills and baubles that inevitably littered his sisters’ rooms were oddly missing.
“Do you know this is not at all what I expected from your bedchamber? It is very . . .”
“Dull?” She supplied in oddly bitter tones. “Predictable? Boring?”
He slowly turned to face her, his body instinctively tightening as an avalanche of unwelcome sensations assaulted him.
He sternly reined in his unruly emotions.
“Impersonal. Do you not have any paintings or mementos that women always use to clutter their surroundings?”
She shrugged. “I have never felt the need to trouble with such things.”
Of course, he thought with a sharp pang. A woman only fussed and altered a place she considered her own. To Kate, this estate had been her father’s domain. For her, it was more a place of confinement than a home.
“I suppose you have not,” he said softly, his gaze drifting over her wary countenance. “This chamber has never truly belonged to you, has it, Kate?”
She blinked, as if startled by his insight, and then, with jerky movements, she moved toward a chair to grasp her night rail and pulled it over her thin shift.
“You should not be here, Luce. If anyone were to discover you . . .”
“I do not care if all of England were to discover me here.” He stepped forward, his expression somber. “I have to know why you returned to Kent.”
Her breath caught at the abrupt question. “What?”
“Why did you return home?”
“I . . .” She wrapped her arms about her waist, her expression uncertain. “I realized that I could not hide forever.”
Luce arched a disbelieving brow. “Perhaps not forever, but Lord Thorpe was quite eager to afford you several more weeks of unabated freedom at his ducal estate. Why did you toss that aside?”
She licked her lips in an uneasy manner. Good, he thought with grim satisfaction. He damn well hoped she was perturbed and utterly unbalanced. He was tired of batting his head against her well-erected barriers.
“I discovered that I missed Julia. She has always been like a sister to me.”
His eyes narrowed at the patent lie.
“You could have requested that she join you in Devonshire,” he pointed out with indisputable logic. “No doubt she would have been delighted to mix among the most elite of society.”
“For goodness’ sakes, Luce, does it matter why I returned?” she demanded in tight tones.
“It does when your return also includes a visit to Calfield Park.” He took a step closer, his gaze capturing her own with a relentless intensity.
Her eyes darkened as she crossed her arms. Luce bit back a groan as the soft curves of her bosom were prominently displayed by the deep vee of her robe.
“If you do not wish me to return to Calfield Park, you only have to say so, Luce. I assure you I did not intend to disturb you.”
With an effort, he wrenched his hungry gaze from the temptation beneath the soft linen. “I never believed that you did, but I am intrigued at your reasons for seeking me out. When I left London, I was under the impression that you never desired to speak with me again.”
Surprisingly, her eyes shimmered with sudden tears before she abruptly turned from his searching gaze.
“I told you . . . I was concerned.”
With his heart racing, Luce reached out to grasp her shoulders and relentlessly turned her to face him. He had not been mistaken about the tears. His hand moved of its own accord to gently cup her face.
“Kate.”
“What?”
“Tell me. Why?”
She gave a shake of her head. “Please, go away, Luce.”
“Did you regret the way we parted?”
“I . . . that’s ridiculous.”
Luce gave a humorless laugh, nearly driven mad by the sweetly familiar scent of her. Dear heavens, he could drown in that tantalizing aroma.
“I suppose it is,” he said in self-mockery. “Just wishful thinking I suppose.”
She stilled at his revealing words. “What did you say?”
His lips twisted. “Do not give me that wide-eyed look, Kate. You know how desperately you bewitched me. Did you think I possess no heart? That I walked away without another thought of how you made me laugh, how you made me enjoy your ridiculous adventures, how you fit into my arms as if you had been created just for me?” He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “For God’s sake, I thought we were at the very least friends.”
She flinched as if she had been slapped. “We are friends.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Then heaven help your enemies.”
“I am sorry that you were forced to sell your business—”
“Dammit, this is not about my bloody business, or dowries, or crumbling estates,” he interrupted angrily. “It is about us. Are you sorry you forced me out of your life?”
He felt the shudder that raced through her body.
“I had to.”
His hand moved to tangle in the satin softness of her hair. “Of course. A brief flirtation and then on to the next adventure.”
“No,” she whispered. “It was not like that.”
“Oh yes, I was also the scheming, conniving lecher who was determined to seduce you back to an engagement you detested.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “I wanted you to leave because . . .”
“Yes?”
“Because I could no longer pretend that I was not falling in love with you. And to be honest, I could not bear a broken heart.”
He froze in disbelief. “What did you say?”
“I think you heard me.”
“You love me?”
She abruptly struggled to free herself. “Please just go away, Luce.”
“Never,” he swore, his arms wrapping about her wriggling form to haul her firmly against his body. After days of black despair, she was not moving an inch from his embrace. Dropping kisses upon her face, he allowed a wary joy to slowly fill his heart. “My God, I have ached for you for weeks. You have haunted my dreams, distracted my days. I cannot sleep or work or even eat. Every time I close my eyes, I can still smell you. And I have called for my carriage a dozen times to come and bring you home where you belong, only to realize that I could not force you to want to be with me.”
A choked moan escaped her lips. “Luce?”
He captured her lips in a deep searching kiss before pulling back to regard her with a stern expression
“And do not dare accuse me of wanting you back for your damn dowry. For all I care you can tell your father to toss his money down the nearest well. All I want is you.”
Her lips curved into a tremulous smile. She looked amused and bemused and utterly adorable.
“But what of your estate?”
Luce experienced a brief pang of guilt that he had ever considered taking this woman for the sole purpose of acquiring her wealth.
“I told myself nothing was more important than ensuring the future of my family and estate. And I was quite prepared to take the easy path to do so. Oh, I tried to convince myself I was committing a great sacrifice to marry wealth, but it was no more than an excuse to avoid making the difficult choices. It was not until you refused to offer your trust that I realized I was behaving no better than my parents. I desired someone else to solve my troubles rather than facing them on my own.”
“And now?”
He slowly smiled. “Now I accept that whatever sacrifice I may make to restore my estate, none could be greater than marrying some maiden who is not you. No one could ever replace you in my heart.” He gazed deep into her wide eyes. “I love you, Miss Kate Frazer. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Without warning, she threw her arms about his neck and pressed herself even closer to his hard form. Luce clutched her tiny body, his senses filled with her warm sweetness.
“I love you,” she said simply.
Luce briefly wondered if his heart might actually burst from sheer happiness.
“But what of your desire for daring adventures and independence?” he forced himself to ask the question that still haunted him.
She offered him a brilliant smile. “I have discovered that a life of endless adventures can be as dull as one of endless duty.”
“No more adventures?”
“Oh, I did not say that,” she corrected, with a glint in her eyes. “I still want to experience new delights. Perhaps as a roguish pirate, you might have a few suggestions?”
Luce gave a low growl as he pressed her against his trembling form. The delights he conjured were enough to make his knees weak and his head spin.
“You are sure? I have nothing to offer but my name and a decidedly uncertain future.”
“Oh, yes.”
With a slow tenderness, he explored her lips, barely able to believe this extraordinary woman. He had sought a fortune, and he had found it in her love.
“You came home,” he whispered against her mouth.
“No, I came to you,” she retorted.
“We will rebuild Calfield Park together,” he promised as he gently nuzzled her cheek. “For us. For our family.”
She reached up to cup his face in gentle hands. “It sounds like a wonderful adventure.”
He smiled deep into her eyes as he pressed her slight frame even closer.
“An adventure that will last the rest of our lives.”