An expletive he rarely used whispered past his lips. He briefly considered leaving Bradford Hall, escaping back to London-or anywhere-for the duration of her stay here, but he discarded the idea. With Elizabeth's warning of danger bouncing through his head, he refused to leave Allie alone, whether she wanted him to or not. And he needed to remain here to await Michael's arrival from Ireland. No, he would simply have to put his feelings aside and carry on as if nothing had occurred. As if his dreams of a wife and family hadn't been shattered. As if his heart hadn't broken.
Just how the hell he was going to do that, however, he did not know.
Lester Redfern slogged through the darkness, cursing the mud that sucked at his boots, making his feet feel as if they each weighed twenty stone. Bloody hell, a man of his caliber should not have to suffer being this cold, wet, miserable, and filthy.
Gusts of wind shook the surrounding trees, and his gaze darted from left to right, nerves jittering, heart pounding. Devil take it, he hated the woods. 'Specially at night, wot with all the spooky sounds and shadows, when a body didn't know where he was. Give him London any day of any week.
But as much as he hated the woods, it didn't come close to the way he hated horses-one horse in particular. That sway-backed nag wot had dumped him in the mud, after she'd bit his hand. He flexed his bruised fingers, and muttered a string of curses. And all that when he'd unhitched the beast after the mud had sucked up his gig's wheels.
By the devil, this was madness. He'd catch his death out here in the rain and cold. Wetness oozed through the soles of his boots, and he ground his teeth. With the rain all but washin' out the roads, he'd be lucky to get to Bradford Hall- assuming he'd ever find the bloody place-by next month. It had taken him the entire day to get the distance he could have traveled in an hour's time if this rain hadn't started.
Well, he weren't about to walk to Bradford Hall, that were for damn certain. The earl would just have to wait until travelin' conditions improved, to get his precious note.
'And he's goin' to have to pay up some extra blunt for all my efforts,' Redfern grumbled. 'He's goin' to replace my boots, and get me a fine greatcoat as well.'
A loud squeak caught his attention. Squinting through the darkness, he spied what looked like the glow of a lantern ahead. With a flicker of hope ignited in his cold, wet, miserable, muddy self, he surged ahead. Rounding a corner, he almost fell to his knees with relief. Blowing in the gusty wind, its hinges squeaking loudly, was a sign-The Boar's Lair. An inn, or at the very least a pub, where he could get himself a meal, warm himself in front of a fire, and pray for this bloody rain to stop. And when it did cease, which it surely had to soon, he would continue to Bradford Hall. And to Mrs. Brown.
Chapter 20
Robert sat in the darkened billiards room watching the last of the glowing embers in the grate die out, counting the mantel clock chimes strike midnight. The windows rattled with gusts of wind, but at least the relentless rain had finally stopped. He'd wryly wondered if perhaps he and Austin and Miles should organize an effort to build an ark. For the past four days, sheets of water had fallen from the gray sky-a sky that perfectly matched his mood.
Four days. Four days since that last encounter with Allie in her bedchamber. Four days of trying his damnedest to avoid her in a tremendous house that suddenly seemed no bigger than a crofter's cottage. Four endless, sleepless nights, lying in his bed, trying without success to think of something, anything, other than her.
The rest of the household had retired more than an hour ago, as had he, but he'd finally left his bedchamber, unable to face another sleepless night in his empty bed. Alone. He gazed at the brandy snifter cupped in his hand. Besides, he'd emptied the decanter in his bedchamber.
He and Allie had managed to avoid each other during the days, although he wasn't certain if that was more a case of him avoiding her or her avoiding him. He'd spent most of his time in Austin's private study, helping his brother with the estate accounts, throwing himself into the task with an enthusiasm that clearly baffled Austin. But he wanted, needed, to keep his mind and hands occupied so he wouldn't think of her. Wouldn't search her out and find some excuse to touch her.
When he wasn't helping Austin with the accounts, he kept to himself, reading in the library, playing billiards with Austin and Miles, spending time with James and Emily in the nursery, although it was pure torture to even look at the sofa in that room. He knew from Caroline that Allie had spent most of the last four days with Caroline and his mother, talking, doing needlework, playing card games. And according to Austin, she also visited with Elizabeth each afternoon.
He'd longed to escape from the house, where he kept catching elusive whiffs of her fragrance in the corridors, and take a long, bruising ride. The rain, however, prevented such outdoor activities.
Yet it was not as if he'd bumped into her around every corner. Indeed, the only times he'd seen her at all the past four days had been during dinner when the entire family had gathered in the formal dining room. And those four occasions had been nothing short of hell.
She'd sat across from him, wearing her damn black gowns, looking increasingly pale and drawn each night, partaking in conversation, but her efforts were clearly forced. And while his eyes were drawn to her again and again, she never looked at him-except for that one instant when their gazes had met, clearly accidentally on her part, this evening.
The effect of connecting with her golden-brown gaze had been like a blow to the heart. Everything faded away except her. For a breathless moment, he'd waited, hoping, praying, to see a spark in her eyes, some indication that she missed him. Wanted him. Loved him.
Instead, she'd lowered her lashes, hiding her eyes, and had applied her attention to her dinner, her utter rejection simply another blow to his already battered heart.
With each passing day it grew increasingly more impossible for him to pretend that everything was all right. Not when everything was so very wrong. He'd spent a good deal of the last four years managing to put on a happy, smiling front when inside he was torn up with guilt, but now, laughter felt simply beyond him. For his family's sake, he tried, but he knew everyone was aware something was amiss, knew his family was concerned. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in Mother's and Caroline's voices when they'd hesitantly asked him if he was all right. He'd tried his best to reassure them, but he suspected he'd failed. Just as he'd failed at everything that mattered lately.
A noise near the doorway caught his attention, and he turned his head.
'May I join you?' came Austin's voice from the darkness.
Robert swallowed a sigh. He did not want company. Did not want to make conversation. Unfortunately, thanks to his freedom with the brandy, he also felt most disinclined to rise from his chair.
'Of course,' he said, hoping Austin was not in a talking mood.
'Would you care for a brandy?'
Robert tossed back the swallow remaining in his snifter. 'Absolutely. Bring the decanter.'
He heard Austin cross the room. The clink of crystal, followed by the quiet splash of brandy pouring into the sniffer. Then Austin joined him by the fire, refilling his glass with a generous hand. He settled himself in the wing chair opposite Robert.
Robert nodded his thanks and swallowed a hefty gulp, relishing the fiery burn in his throat. The embers glowing in the grate were starting to merge together in his vision. Good. Maybe soon he'd find the oblivion he sought.
'Do you want to talk about it?' Austin asked quietly.
He didn't pretend to misunderstand. 'Not particularly.'
Nearly a minute of blessed silence passed. Then Austin asked, 'Would you care to hear my observations?'
'Do I have a choice?'
'Only if you leave the room. And judging by your slouched posture and slurred speech, that isn't likely to happen.'
Robert waved his hand in a rolling motion. 'By all means. Observe away.'
