The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) (16 page)

She had shivered against his side, fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm and wreaking all sorts of havoc on his emotions. He wanted to kiss and shake her at the same time. Nothing made sense.
She
didn’t make sense. His intense desire to believe the best in her, even though he knew the worst, didn’t make sense.

It was at that point that Lucy had said she wished to tell him something. He’d felt the tension in her body, noticed the guilt and worry in her expression, saw the fear in her eyes, and Colin knew exactly what she wanted to say. It was what Colin had thought he wanted from her—what he’d been so ready to demand—but when the time came for confessions, he had panicked and changed the direction of the conversation, putting her off for another time.

Why?

The rest of the ride home, the answer had eluded him. It wasn’t until Lucy had handed him the steaming mug of tea and settled herself charmingly in front of the fire, looking up at him with those mesmerizing eyes, that he had finally understood. The moment she confessed or he admitted to knowing his true identity was the moment everything would end. There would be no more riding lessons, no more talks, no more chores to complete together, and no more glances, teasing remarks, or touches. She would stay, he would leave, and nothing would ever be the same.

Why did that bother him so? Colin had a vast estate in Danbury, several other holdings scattered about, a townhome in London, a wonderful family awaiting his return, and all the comforts a wealthy lord of the realm enjoyed. Yet he wanted to remain here, in this small dower house, sleeping below the ground in a damp and cramped, airless room.

Perhaps he was going mad. Perhaps he wanted his own chance at revenge. Or perhaps he wanted to continue to hear Lucy’s laughter, tease a smile from her lips, lure a blush to her cheeks, listen to her stories, watch her pick a lock with a hairpin, or allow her to land them in a ditch with her ineptitude at driving.

Colin did not understand fully what Lucy Beresford had become to him, but he knew it was something more than he had ever felt toward another woman. He simply needed more time to figure everything out.

Slowly, he walked up the stairs, through the kitchen, and down the hall to where Lucy awaited him in the parlor. She’d finished her tea, and the mug now rested on the wood floor not far from where she sat. The blanket hung loosely around her shoulders like a shawl, and in her hands was a book. With a few locks of hair falling across her forehead and face, she had never looked more endearing.

Alone
.
We are all alone.

The thought clung to Colin’s mind like a warning, telling him to walk back down those stairs and stay away. But he stepped into the room regardless, unable to resist the pull she had on him.

“Are you certain you would not be more comfortable on the sofa?” he asked.

She lifted her face to his and smiled. It was a radiant smile, filled with teasing, joy, and perhaps something more. She tilted her head in the most beguiling way. “Would it shock you to learn that this is my favorite place to read?”

Colin needed to focus on something besides her lips and how kissable they looked at the moment, so he crouched down in front of her and stole the book from her hands.

“
Robinson Crusoe
,” he read aloud, balancing on his haunches. “An interesting choice.”

“Have you read it?” She took the book from him and flipped through some of its pages.

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “You?”

She laughed lightly and set the book aside. Then she pulled her knees to her chest, arranged her skirts to keep her ankles covered, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “It was one of my father’s favorite reads. I have always enjoyed a good novel, and I adored him, so I have tried my absolute hardest to finish that book without success. What my father saw in that story I will never understand.”

“Crusoe found God while stranded on an island. Perhaps that is the reason?”

“Perhaps.” She nodded. “Still, I wish Crusoe would encounter a lion or make friends with a chimpanzee or something more exciting than drying grapes to make raisins. He is just so . . . dull.”

The earl laughed and twisted around to sit next to her on the rug, draping an arm across one knee. “One could never accuse you of being dull, Miss Beresford.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” she said.

“As you should.”

Their gazes locked, and Colin noticed gold flecks embedded in the dark browns. They made her eyes look richer, deeper, more mesmerizing. Before Colin could question his motives or remember the events that had brought them to this point, his hand lifted to lightly stroke her cheek. Her smile froze in its place, and her body went rigid. But she did not pull away.

“You’re no longer cold,” he said.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m quite warm now. Maybe even a bit too warm. Perhaps I should move to the sofa.”

“Perhaps you should,” he said, though she stayed exactly where she was. With the exception of the rapid rise and fall of her chest, she sat still, her eyes round with uncertainty, fear, and even desire.

Colin shifted positions and lifted his other hand to her face. She trembled beneath his touch but remained on the rug next to him. It wasn’t until he whispered, “I think I might kiss you,” that she blinked and tore her face from his hand, turning away.

Colin wanted to groan in frustration but at the same time felt a certain relief. Any woman trying to trap him into marriage would have never pulled away. It gave him hope that her reasons for lying to him were not as nefarious as he’d feared.

She wrung her hands for a few moments before looking up at him. “Do you think there is ever a good enough reason to tell a lie?” she asked softly, surprising him from his thoughts.

Before today, Colin would have answered “no” immediately, for he had no respect for a liar. But wasn’t he living a lie now? His memory had finally returned and he had made a conscious decision to keep it from her.

The world, he realized, was not simply truth or lies, right or wrong. There was a precarious in-between area where one could teeter back and forth, not exactly right and not exactly wrong. It reminded him of the rope he and his brother used to stretch between two trees and try to walk across without falling, though more often than not, they would fall to one side or the other. Where would he and Lucy fall when this was all over?

Rather than answer her question, Colin turned it back to her. “Do you?”

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before dragging them to meet his. “No. No, I do not. There is something I
must
tell you.”

Colin lifted her hand and ran his thumb across the tips of her fingers. “Will it change things between us?”

“Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes.

He touched her chin, gently turning her face to his. “I do not wish for things to change,” he murmured.

“Nor I,” she whispered. “But—”

Before she could say anything more, Colin leaned in and kissed her. A small gasp escaped her lips and her body went rigid, but his mouth remained on hers, moving gently but with purpose, teaching her what it felt like to be kissed. Gradually, she began to respond, first with her lips and then with her hands sliding up his arms and around his neck. Colin’s skin ignited with every touch. Kissing Lucy was like racing the wind on the back of Darling or leaping from the tallest tree to dive beneath the surface of a cool lake on a hot summer’s day. It felt exhilarating, refreshing, and incredible.

With great strength of will, Colin finally released her. Lucy was as innocent as she was refreshing, and he should not be taking advantage of her in this way. She stared at him wide-eyed, her faced flushed and her hair half undone. Colin had to pry his eyes away or come undone himself.

What the devil had gotten into him? “I forget myself yet again, Miss Beresford.”

She said nothing for a moment, and then murmured, “At least you have an excuse for forgetting yourself. What is mine?”

She sounded lost and anxious, as though not sure what to make of it all. Colin understood, for he felt the same. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, offering his hand to her, along with an excuse. “You were rudely left in the rain and became thoroughly frozen. It obviously numbed your mind.”

“Yes.” She placed her fingers in his and offered him a timid smile. “That is an excellent excuse. I’ll take it.”

He helped her to her feet, wanting to pull her against him and carry her off to the nearest bedchamber. But he forced his hand to relinquish hers and cleared his throat instead.

“What would you say to scavenging the kitchen for something to eat? Perhaps some food will satisfy our . . . hunger.”

A deep blush appeared on her cheeks, and Lucy nodded. “Yes, we should definitely eat.” They went to the kitchen, where she made a ruckus with the teapot, rummaged through the pantry, and avoided looking at him the entire time. They sat across the table from one another and ate some bread and cheese, drank more tea, and tried to pretend that nothing at all had changed.

Lucy’s fingers tapped out an irregular beat on the table in the dark kitchen while she waited anxiously for her maid. The midnight hour was approaching when Georgina finally came through the door. Lucy practically bounded up from the stool she’d been sitting on and grabbed her maid’s hand.

“Come with me,” Lucy hissed. “Quietly please.”

“Miss Lucy, wot ’re ya about?”

“Hush, Georgy.” Lucy dragged her poor maid up the stairs and into her bedchamber, where she closed the door quickly behind them. She stared wide-eyed at her maid and blurted, “He kissed me.”

“Wot?”

“Lord Drayson,” continued Lucy. “He kissed me. And I may have kissed him back and—” The full weight of the situation slammed into her, and she dropped down on her bed and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Georgy, how could I have let this happen? Sir Walter Scott knew what he was talking about when he wrote that bit about tangled webs. Every time I open my mouth or don’t open my mouth, the lies twist tighter around the truth, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to untwist them now. It’s all such a muddle, and I have no idea what to do. Why did you have to leave today of all days? How is your mother, by the way? I do hope she’s feeling more the thing.”

Georgina sat on the bed next to Lucy, looking tired and more frail than usual. “Me ma will be fine, don’t ya worry about that, and I’m sorry for leavin’.” She paused before breathing out a weary sigh. “Ya ought not ter ’ave kissed ’im, Miss.”

“I know, I know, I know,” Lucy groaned, jumping up to pace the floor. “Did I not just say that? But the thing’s been done, Georgy, and I cannot undo it. What am I to do now?”

Georgina covered a yawn with the back of her hand before answering. “It seems ter me that ya ’ave but two choices, Miss Lucy. Ya can tell ’im the truf or keep twistin’ yourself into knots.”

Lucy had already known what she needed to do, but hearing Georgina spell it out so clearly made it seem less complicated somehow. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I shall do, even if he doesn’t want to hear the truth just yet.”

Georgina furrowed her forehead in confusion.

“Never mind,” said Lucy with a wave of her hand. “He’ll surely despise me, rage about, possibly even evict us immediately, but at least my conscience will be clear—or, as clear as it can ever be.”

Georgina rose and patted Lucy’s shoulder. “It’s for the best, Miss. Perhaps ’e will not rage about as much as ya fin’. ’E obviously ’as feelin’s for ya.”

“Feelings that will come to an abrupt end the moment he realizes that he’s far above me in height, station, and integrity. Collins, the servant, may have developed a partiality for me, but the Earl of Drayson would never countenance any sort of relationship with a deceiving daughter of a seamstress, I can assure you.”

Georgina clasped Lucy’s hands in hers, forcing her mistress to look her in the eye. “Your ma is Mrs. Beresford, the kind-’earted wife of the late Mr. Beresford, and ya ’re their daughter. Don’t ya forget that.”

Lucy threw her arms around her maid and hugged her tight. “And you are my dearest friend, Georgy. Don’t you ever forget
that
.”

Although Georgina smiled, it was a weary smile, so Lucy quickly shooed her away. “I’m sorry, Georgy. I’ve kept you awake too late as it is. You must sleep now, for tomorrow we might have a great deal of packing to do.”

Georgina gave her a look of sympathy before disappearing into the dark hallway and closing the door behind her. Lucy stared at the wall for a moment, feeling suddenly alone. Though she had embraced the independence that came with her mother’s absence, Lucy missed her dreadfully now. She ached for her mother’s comforting arms, her wisdom, and the way she could take a weighty problem and make it lighter somehow.

Trouble was, Lucy was fairly certain that even her mother could not make everything right this time.