Chapter 4 #2
“That is irrelevant.” Colin snapped his focus away from the temptation she offered.
It was better that way. They were strangers.
Nothing more. Beside her, his daughter yawned, laid her head against the side of the coach and closed her eyes.
Good, for he now wished to make Lucy squirm beneath questions.
It was time for him to claim the upper hand.
“Are you happy, Lucy?” Would it break his heart further to know that she was?
She stared at him, her features carefully blank before answering. “At times, though if you talk to my family, they would say I’ve lost the Christmas spirit over the years.” She shrugged and tapped a slender forefinger on her book. “I miss Jacob. It tempers my affection for things I once loved.”
Did that include him? He was too much a coward to ask. Perhaps he didn’t wish to know. Colin rested an ankle on a knee, striving for the picture of nonchalance. “You truly loved him?”
“Of course I did.” One of her eyebrows rose. “You doubt this?”
It was his turn to shrug as he leaned back against the squabs. “I assumed you married him to make me jealous.” Once he’d heard the news they’d been well and truly wed, he’d resolved to live his life in such a manner that he’d never again think of Lucy.
It had worked up to a point, but banishing her from his memories was much like attempting to part with a limb.
“You were beyond my reach.” She dropped her gaze to the book on her lap. “You made your choice. There was nothing left for us.” The words lacked emotion, as if she’d rehearsed them for years.
He snorted. “You took that choice from me.”
Lucy didn’t respond to the goad.
Once more silence reigned in the coach for another handful of miles while Colin kept his attention at the window, as did she.
“Jacob and I were good together.” The soft-spoken announcement yanked his regard back to her face, and her eyes clouded with a trace of happiness as she remembered.
“He toiled for the Home Office, but stayed in Town, which is how we ended up in London. His limp prevented him from going into the field. He didn’t mind, for he adored his work.
” Her smile sent shards of jealousy through Colin’s chest for the man—his best friend—who’d won her.
“We raised a family. He loved Christmas. Always told stories of our early years together.” She landed her gaze on him, sadness now reflected in those ice-blue depths. “He mourned your loss.”
What was there to say? That they’d both betrayed him?
That he couldn’t believe after all he and she had shared that she preferred Jacob to build a life with?
That he’d wished things had been different?
Knowing she wanted an answer, Colin said, “Christmas changed, for all of us. The charm it once had is gone, and there’s no going back. ”
“Yes, I agree the holiday has changed, but you haven’t.”
“It’s the one constant,” he said with a fair amount of flippancy in his tone.
“So is the magic of Christmas,” she reminded him.
“Not anymore.” He narrowed his eyes. “You, of all people, should know the holiday holds no more magic.”
“Mayhap.” She held his gaze, but he couldn’t read the emotions clouding those depths. “You could find that again, Colin. For your daughter. Repair the damage between you. It’s the season of miracles.”
Did she truly believe that, or did she give him nothing but lip service? “Perhaps I don’t believe in it any longer. Christmas is for children. Nothing more.”
The light died from her expression and faded from her eyes. “That is quite sad.”
He hated that, once more, he’d caused her to become a lesser version of herself.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Straightening his posture, he nudged her foot with his while darting a glance at his daughter to make certain she slept.
“Flirtation passes the time, and that is most certainly not for children.” Then he winked. “So does kissing.”
A furious blush raged in her cheeks, which amused him, for she was a widow and a mother. “That is impossible.”
“Once, you didn’t think so.” Ah, it had always been such fun to banter with her, almost as lovely as holding her in his arms, sharing embraces, and the kisses he’d stolen, complete with his young man’s fumblings.
They’d explored each other together when given moments alone, lost in their innocent love.
“Before the world and reality intruded.” Her chin trembled, the only outward sign she remembered, too. “That was another time, and we were different people.”
Colin frowned, and once more the blue devils poked at the edges of his consciousness. “Perhaps. More’s the pity.”
Lucy sighed. She shifted position on her bench, and her book slipped from her lap to the floorboards, unheeded. “It’s time to move forward and make this the best Christmas we can.”
“Why?” He leaned down and retrieved the slim volume. When he offered the book to her, a tiny smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she accepted it from him.
“Jacob’s savings are gone, and the rest of his stipend I mean to have go to the children when they become of age.” She clutched at her book with tight fingers. “I’m afraid our pockets are to let. Once the holiday is over, I will be forced to go home. London isn’t our future any longer.”
Shock rocked him, and he sat back with a thump. No longer would he have a slim chance to glimpse her on the streets or in the shops or perhaps at a ton event. “I’m sorry to hear this.” At least that was the truth.
“So am I.” Her chin quivered once more, and he despised that tell of her emotions.
Rarely had he had cause to see it when they were younger, but when he did, he’d always strove to make things right, to make her smile again.
“I must find new happiness.” Tears filled her eyes, and she took refuge behind dabbing at them with her handkerchief.
“Again, life is changing and… it scares me, for I’d never imagined myself at this crossroads. ”
He nodded, looked away to give her the semblance of privacy. “For the children, then, we shall strive for normalcy.” But damnation if the news wasn’t enough to make him crave refuge in the bottom of a brandy bottle.