Chapter 7 #2
Beside her, Ellen shifted her position but didn’t wake. Lucy stroked the girl’s hair, as much to calm herself as it was for Ellen.
“Oh, Colin. If you had simply told me everything.” Those dratted tears welled up again. “I wanted the man you were before…”
He scoffed, bitterness solid in that utterance. “Penniless, without direction, spoiled?”
“No.” Lucy shook her head. “You were those things, of course, but you were also content, optimistic, joyful, loving, a dreamer.” That man was who had won her heart. “Your eyes used to sparkle as if you knew Christmas every day.”
“It was a long time ago. We cannot change what happened.” He caught her gaze again. A trace of hopelessness clouded his gaze. “Christmas of the past is gone as well. It’s only for the innocent, the young.”
“We would have been happy together,” she whispered as she battled back the tears.
“Perhaps, but we would have been poor. I couldn’t risk it, and such a life wasn’t fitting for the son of a duke.
” He lowered his voice. “I refused to fail and listen to my father’s lectures, couldn’t bear to see his smugness for the son he thought wouldn’t succeed without his influence.
He expected me to come crawling back to ask for assistance. ”
That was something else she’d not known of him.
His pride and hers had worked in tandem to drive them apart.
We’re both guilty. Unable to hold them back any longer, she let the tears fall to her cheeks.
Though she was mortified to show such emotion in front of him, she managed to force out, “I guess we’ll never know what could have been.
” Then she took refuge by rooting through her reticule for her handkerchief, hard to do using one hand. Where the devil had it gotten off to?
The minutes ticked by in an agonizing fashion and finally, he handed her his handkerchief of pristine ivory lawn.
“Here.” He pressed the square into her hand and curled her fingers around the fabric.
“You never could find yours when you needed it,” he said, all traces of annoyance and anger gone.
Only regret pooled in his eyes, gone the moment she looked closer.
“I still cannot. I’m forever losing them,” she laughed as she dabbed at her tears.
BayRum and cloves with a hint of citrus clung to the square, and that made the poignancy of the moment that much greater.
How many times had she put her nose to his neck just above his cravat to revel in that same smell?
“I apologize for making you cry, Lucy,” he said quietly. Honesty rang in his voice, but his eyes were sad. “It wasn’t well done of me. I’d wanted to hurt you as you’d hurt me. It was a stupid gambit, and it won’t happen again. You have my word, for what’s it’s worth.”
“It’s all right.” Yet surprise twisted in her chest at the admission.
“These last few days have been trying, and I am on edge.” Once she’d gotten control of her emotions, she met his gaze.
Crying had been somewhat cathartic. No longer would her feelings would rip her apart.
The truths revealed brought her closer to calm as well.
“What is the true purpose of this trip, Colin? Why are you really going home?”
He heaved a sigh that sounded as if it had come from his toes. “I merely wish to see my family, rub along well enough without causing animosity, and hope they leave me in peace more often than not.” His voice was raw and ragged. Perhaps he needed an outlet for his emotions, too.
“Father?” Ellen moved into an upright position and looked with sleepy eyes between them. “You are speaking of going home, to Lancaster Hall?”
“Yes.” Colin nodded.
She yawned. “You’re a liar. You hope to arrive home in time to win Grandpapa’s wager.”
“What?” Lucy bounced her gaze from him to the girl. Annoyance gripped her and dried the remainder of her tears. Had she wasted time crying over him? “Was that the real reason for our early flight this morning?” How foolish could she be to fall for his explanations?
“No, truly.” He extended a hand to her, but when she narrowed her eyes, he let it drop to his lap. “We left early this morning for the exact reason I told you.” Was that panic lining his expression? Why?
Ellen’s laughter trilled through the coach’s interior, a horrible contrast to the mood therein. “You look ready to cry, Father. Have I said something wrong?”
“I never cry, child.” Colin’s glower was back in place as he settled more comfortably on his bench, his arms crossed at his chest.
“You do so!” The girl argued. “Sometimes at night I hear you sobbing.”
“It’s none of your concern,” he said and a warning growled through the response. Colin met Lucy’s gaze. His was as haunted as Ellen had claimed the day before. When Lucy attempted to question him, he held up a hand. “Don’t. It is not a subject I wish to discuss.”
Why was the topic of him giving into an excess of emotion so distasteful to him? Lucy exchanged a glance with Ellen, who shrugged.
“I’m hungry, Father. Could we please stop for luncheon soon?” Ellen sighed. “And I require exercise. Sitting in this coach is wearing on my nerves.”
“I’ll allow a stop in an hour.” Then Colin closed his eyes and rested his head against the squabs. “Will this trip never end? Truly, this has become hell.”
Lucy once more dabbed at her eyes to collect residual moisture.
She breathed in his familiar scent and flutters once more erupted in her belly.
What has happened to you, Colin? Why wouldn’t he talk candidly to her?
Had she made the wrong decision all those years ago when she’d refused his suit?
She rested her gaze upon him with a frown.
If she had, it couldn’t be helped. As she’d told him before, their lives were no longer intertwined.
What was done was done. After the Christmas house party, he’d go home to London and she’d remain in Derbyshire.
The fact caused her heart to beat ever quicker, not from excitement but in alarm. It was so final. How could she expect to live knowing she’d probably never have the opportunity to see him again?