An Urgent Kiss (Captivating Kisses #6)

Prologue

As the carriage carried Hugo Drake closer to home, he felt his belly knotting.

He was returning from his first year away at school, which he felt he’d been fortunate to survive.

While he had enjoyed the academics offered and thrived, especially in maths and geography, the rest of his experience had been abominable.

His contact with his fellow students had been even worse than he had imagined, their ridicule and taunting leaving him an emotional wreck.

He knew he was different from others. The stammer marked him thus.

He had stammered for as long as he could remember.

He would know what he wished to say, and yet it simply would not come out of his mouth, leaving him mute.

Or he would become stuck on a word, repeating the beginning of it over and over and over until others laughed—or shamed him.

Though he had longed to do so, he had made no friends at school.

Now, he dreaded coming home because he would be berated by his father.

Other boys had their fathers—and sometimes even their mothers—come and retrieve them from school at the end of each term.

Hugo’s escort home had been a surly footman.

Even his father’s servants looked down upon him, despite the fact he was the heir apparent to the Earl of Merriman.

His life stretched out endlessly before him, and all he could see was the misery to come.

The carriage arrived a little after half-past seven that evening.

It was still light outside, and Hugo wondered if he would be called into his father’s study.

A part of him wished the meeting would be over and done, but the other half hoped it would be delayed until tomorrow morning, allowing him a brief respite.

At one point, his parents had gone away to town for the Season each year, but his father remained at his country seat most of the year now.

When the vehicle came to a halt, dread rippled through Hugo.

The door opened. He hesitantly went down the steps which had been placed by the footman, making his way to the front door, where Storey regarded him with disdain.

The butler was a close confidant to Hugo’s father.

Since the earl despised his son, so did the butler.

He promised himself when he became the earl, he would rid the house of this man and any other servant who had disparaged him in words or deeds.

“Lord Merriman will see you tomorrow morning,” Storey said brusquely.

Not a word of greeting, which was exactly what he had expected. Hugo was hungry, but he knew Storey would never think to feed him, and Hugo was too proud to ask for anything.

“Be in his lordship’s study at nine o’clock,” the butler added, walking away.

He wondered where Mama was. At one time, she had tried to champion him to his father, but she had long ago been beaten into submission.

She no longer had the strength or will to defend herself, much less a stuttering son.

Still, he loved her and headed to her rooms, hoping to find her awake.

Oftentimes, she escaped into sleep. Hugo could not blame her.

Knocking softly, he opened the door and entered, closing the door behind him. She had a small sitting room which came before her bedchamber. He moved through it, then eased the door open, finding her seated in a chair by the window.

She turned, her face softening as she caught sight of him, a rare smile appearing on her lips. “Hugo. My darling boy.”

He crossed the room to stand before her, savoring her embrace and the faint smell of lilacs, which always reminded him of her.

Pulling away, she clasped him by the shoulders and asked, “How was school? I am so sorry your father did not let you come home for any of the holidays.”

That had hurt the most, seeing the other boys leave to go home to loving families, while he remained with the tutors at school.

Fortunately, they had left him on his own for the most part, so he had read late into the night, slept in, and then explored the school and the areas outside it to his heart’s content.

Knowing he could not lie to her now, though, even though he saw the sadness in her eyes, he replied, “Wh-wh-what d-do you th-think?”

Tears welled in her gray eyes, so like his, as she enveloped him in her arms again.

“My heart is heavy, waiting to hear your reply, my boy. You are such a kind, intelligent person. Was it simply awful?”

Feeling safe within these four walls, he was able to answer her with one clear, clean word. “Yes.”

She led him to her bed, and they both climbed upon it together.

Her arm went about him as they talked over the school year.

Hugo had learned when he felt safe, he could get more words out.

They didn’t seem so muddled. He told Mama about the subjects he enjoyed.

Books he had read and languages he had begun to study.

“My, it sounds as if you have grown not only taller, but also intellectually,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “But you must get some rest, my darling. So must I. We have to be at our best tomorrow.”

He knew the hidden meaning behind her words. They both needed to be well rested in order to have their wits about them when they were in the presence of the earl.

“I will s-see you tomorrow, Mama,” he said, crawling from the bed and heading upstairs to his own bedchamber.

His trunk awaited him, though no servant had unpacked its contents.

He believed other households ran differently.

That servants weren’t meant to be so rebellious or openly disrespectful.

For a moment, he wondered if his father had issued an edict for servants not to wait on him.

It did not matter. He had learned from an early age to be self-sufficient, and so he opened and unpacked the trunk, putting his belongings away.

Suddenly, his belly growled, rumbling in protest of not having eaten for many hours, but he pushed the thought aside as he undressed and slipped into his nightshirt.

He climbed into bed and lay in the dark a long time, sleep evading him.

The nights at school had been the worst of times, anxiety keeping him awake because he had never known when the other boys might come for him.

Sometimes, they merely laughed at him or made fun of him, imitating his stammer and laughing riotously as they did so.

Other times, though, they dragged him from his bed, beating him for the pure fun of it.

They knew not to touch his face, however, and so he would go to classes the next morning, his body battered and tender from numerous blows.

Hugo knew of the code of silence and never told on those who bullied him.

He’d had no friends and doubted he would make even one during the school years ahead.

Other boys would be afraid to be associated with him.

At least he was back at Merrifield. For the most part, his father would ignore him. He could go days—even weeks—without laying eyes on the earl.

Suddenly, he heard his door push open and knew it had to be Dilly.

Sure enough, his three-year-old sister appeared next to his bed. She reached out with chubby fingers and touched his cheek.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Dilly. Would you like to get into bed with me?”

She nodded. Hugo helped her up, and she snuggled against him, her warmth a comfort to him.

Dilly was actually Delilah. When she was born, Hugo had trouble saying her name.

All he could get out was Dilly, and so that is what he called her—and what she called herself.

Dilly was the one bright spot in his life, and he loved her completely, more than anything or anyone on this earth.

She was also the only person he never stammered around.

If only the world were full of Dillys, he might actually be normal.

With his sister by his side, Hugo finally fell asleep into a deep, relaxed sleep.

When he awoke, Dilly was no longer in bed with him.

He supposed she had returned to her own bed so that she would not be scolded by her nursemaid.

Kittrell had also served as his nursemaid, and Hugo could not recall one kind word ever spoken to him by her.

Still, she was usually pleasant with Dilly.

At least water had been delivered to him the previous evening, and he used it now to wash before he dressed. He combed his hair carefully, wanting to look presentable when he met with his father.

Going down the hall to the schoolroom, he saw Dilly and Kittrell already there. He entered, mustering a smile, and said, “G-g-good m-morning.”

The nursemaid barely glanced in his direction, and he took a seat at the table next to his sister. A maid came in, bringing breakfast for the three of them. As usual, he ate in silence.

Dilly, however, talked quite a bit. His sister’s vocabulary and use of language had exploded since the last time he had been home. Thank goodness, she had not been cursed with the stammer which plagued him.

When they finished eating, Kittrell whisked Dilly away, leaving Hugo on his own.

He wandered about the schoolroom, opening and examining a few books he had used in this very room when he’d had a tutor before he left to go away to school.

He wondered if Dilly would also leave for school someday and hoped if she did, her experience would be better than his.

When the appointed time came, he ventured downstairs and stood in front of his father’s study, steeling himself before he knocked upon the door.

“Come.”

Just the sound of his father’s voice sent chills up Hugo’s spine.