Ignoring that last bit of sarcasm, Lottie laid a hand on his knee and said, “How is Woodrest? I was worried sick over the fire. Are the tenants safe?” Goodness, how had she not asked before now? The thigh muscle under her fingers tensed, and she snatched her hand away as if burned. Everything about his body right now screamed hands off, and she had to respect that. But Lord, how she wanted to touch him. To linger and soak him in.
“Our good friend Montague hired an arsonist tae wreak havoc at Woodrest. I was dealing with that when I got your letter. No one was hurt. The construction site will need tae start anew. The granary is a loss, as is this year’s harvest. John Billings never made it tae the main house.”
“I trust the fiend is now in custody,” Agatha said.
“Nay, he’s my newest tenant.” He gave Agatha a tight smile. “After making such a mess, ’tis only right he cleans it up. Montague hired a desperate man tae do his dirty work in exchange for enough coin tae feed his family.”
Lottie rested her head in her hand and propped her elbow on the window ledge. Sweet heaven, had there ever been anyone so good as this man? “That’s a significant loss for you, and then you had to deal with my letter. How utterly wretched. I’m so sorry.”
“Aye, the twenty-fifth of never would have been a much better day tae call off the wedding. I understand why you did it, though.”
Silence descended once more, now laden with an awkwardness none of them could escape.
Agatha wasn’t one to let such a thing stand. “I think we can all agree Montague has done irreparable damage to your reputation. Slinking back to London with a concocted story might work, but Montague borrowed the carriage from one of his cronies, and that gentleman will talk. Returning to Westmorland is logical, but I do not like it. Not one bit.”
“I was planning to go home anyway. Not under these circumstances, granted. But in the end, it’s all the same. Spinsterhood may suit me after all. You don’t have a husband, and your life is exactly as you wish it to be.” Beside her, Ethan tensed, giving her hope. If he didn’t like talk of her future without him, he might be open to an apology.
Her godmother rolled her eyes. “Darling girl, there is an ocean of difference between a widow and a spinster. To think otherwise is foolishness. Marriage to the right person can mean unbelievable happiness. It is finding the right person that is the challenge. You two nodcocks managed to bungle your way into happiness through pure chance and half-baked scheming. Why not see if the earl thinks kindlier upon the match when seeing for himself the depth of your attachment?”
“I’m no’ worth Lottie risking her relationship with the earl. Having her own estate and the fortune with which tae run it means everything tae her,” Ethan said.
Ouch. Lottie bristled. “Money is not everything. You sell yourself short, sir.”
Ethan finally met her eyes. “Do I, lass? I think we both know I have the right of it.”
The blue of his eyes deepened with hurt, turning a shade she’d only ever seen in the flash of a bird’s wing or the reflection off a lake. Passion made his eyes a soft blue gray. But pain was a vibrant blue. She’d rather not know that.
Darling’s wide-eyed expression implored Lottie to say something—anything—but all the words caught in her throat. Her emotions were a tangle, with guilt rising to the surface. When given the choice between Ethan or keeping her fragile relationship with Father and accessing her dowry, she’d chosen the money. Never mind that she’d had reasons for doing so.
The fact that Ethan needed her dowry now more than ever and she wouldn’t be able to help didn’t matter. That she’d decided he could have helped sooner with the fire if he’d been home instead of distracted with her was also irrelevant.
More than anything, she longed to rest her head on those shoulders that were wide enough to carry the world, and hear the rumble of Ethan’s voice in her ear telling her it would be all right. First, she’d need to find a way through his anger and ask for forgiveness.
* * *
Ethan shouldn’t have made a crack about her choosing her fortune over him. Regret slammed through him as soon as the words left his mouth. “I’m sorry, Lady Charlotte. That was rude. You were free tae end the engagement and did so for your own reasons. I apologize.”
The adorable little wrinkle between her eyes showed up only when her considerable intellect pondered something. In the past he would have smoothed the crease away with a finger, then teased a smile out of her. Ethan clasped his hands tighter between his knees.
Lady Agatha studied them with pursed lips. Darling sat quietly beside her, no doubt wishing she’d stayed behind with Cal.
Ethan held his tongue against a flood of words. Wouldn’t you know it, a big part of him wanted to beg. He’d thought there could be nothing worse than thundering up the Great North Road worried sick about her. He was wrong. Sitting next to her in a coach with their shoulders brushing at each bump and rut in the road and not being able to hold her could be a level of his own personal hell. As usual, Lottie was composed and keeping her cool, even after having to rescue herself from her kidnapper. There was an emotional boundary between them—her on one side and him on the other. To be held at a distance left him cold. She shifted beside him on the seat—right there and he couldn’t touch her.
The carriage traveled at a sedate pace in order to keep their outriders and mounts as rested
