Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“That’s the last of them,” Nash promised, dropping a huge bundle of books on the library reading table for his brother the next morning. He was still annoyed Algernon had harassed him to bring them back. There were more important things to deal with, such as discussing a wife who didn’t want to be one anymore.
He had not slept well last night, knowing Laura was near.
Although he was not pleased to see Laura return, he could not ignore what felt like a cataclysmic shift in the atmosphere at Ravenswood, and in himself, overnight.
He’d passed three maids who had smiled at him and then giggled when they’d passed him by. Even the valet he shared with his brother had been humming to himself.
Nash had a wife again, and a young daughter now too, but he did not hum or smile or giggle about the novelty. He did not know what to do about either, particularly his daughter.
Laura had seduced him, and he could not understand why.
He remembered that night more and more, though. Intimacy had been good between them. Urgent, hot. He had not restrained himself very much, and Laura had hardly been cold toward him, either.
He could not ignore Laura now, but neither did he wish to face her again so soon without having a plan first. His mistake, his indiscretion, had come back to haunt him and made him considerably discomforted. How could he not have recognized Laura in the dark? They had been married five years by then.
He thought he’d known her and her body well. He could only blame extreme intoxication for that level of blindness. He’d put up no resistance when their exchange turned passionate almost immediately. But some part of him must have recognized his wife.
He glanced about the piles of books scattered here and there in the library and focused on small things he understood. Those tasks he could complete and feel good about.
But behind him were great voids. His study was cold and emptier and had echoed oddly with the sound of his solitary footsteps. He would have to adjust to that as well later, but first he would help bring the untidiness here to order.
He picked up a stack of books, read the spines, and looked about for where they should belong.
“Nash, I prefer to put everything back in its proper place in the library myself. But should you need to refer to these books again, you can, of course, always find them here,” Algernon promised. “However, I do doubt you’ll have time for any extensive reading.”
“Why?”
“You will have your hands full with your wife and children. And with them is where you should be already, by the way. Leave this to me to put right and get going.”
“But—”
“No, brother. I don’t need any help to put a handful of books away.”
“It’s not a handful. There are dozens,” he protested.
Algernon looked over his shoulder at the work ahead and, although his eyes widened when he realized the number, he eventually shrugged. “I can manage this small feat unaided, I assure you.”
Algernon had always wanted his help in the past so he did not argue the point further. Algernon was not just his brother, but his best friend, too. He did not like them disagreeing about anything.
“It was private research. The divorce,” Nash murmured, shuffling his feet. “I didn’t want to involve you until the time was right.”
“Nothing has ever been private between us before, brother,” Algernon reminded him, adding volumes back to the upper shelves and sliding down the ladder again to pick up another stack. “That’s why we have rarely ever argued over the years. But you should consider who you make your confidant in the future. I recommend you talk about your plans for the future with your wife instead of me. They will affect her most of all.”
As a boy, he and Algernon had leaned on each other. Confiding, confessing and plotting ways to escape their father’s control and defy his demands for their absolute obedience. They had watched over their younger brothers together, protecting them as best they could. To hear that he should not confide in Algernon anymore was a kick in the gut. No one understood him better than his own brother.
Nash turned on his heel and stalked off, confused and hurt by Algernon pushing him away and siding with Laura, now of all times. An unmarried man did not really understand the confusion that came with being a husband to such a woman.
He entered a much smaller chamber than he’d taken over, a room tucked away between two larger chambers on the far side of the house, and slammed the door shut. It was quiet here. Private. No one ever bothered him here, and he inhaled the familiar atmosphere, expecting it to be a balm to his senses. But with the absence of his favorite books his satisfaction ebbed.
He’d furnished the tiny room himself over the years with the discards from other parts of the house that Father had not wanted or noticed missing. His only comfort in recent years, when he’d finally had a moment to himself, was getting lost in the pages of his favorite volumes from the library.
It would be tedious to have to find them again, and less pleasing to read in another room, one where everyone came and went so often.
Nash liked the quiet, his out of the way room, and the jumble of mismatched furniture usually smothered by books he’d hoarded. Now there were bare surfaces and dust lines showing where books had once rested. The pair of wingback chairs, one old and one new. The battered oak desk standing between two windows was held up at the back by blocks of wood, its surface far too bare. He’d no excuse to stay in this room for long now.
He swiped away a patch of dust on a side table and grimaced. He would need to put a servant to work in here soon to tidy things up again. He’d spent much of the last two years alone in this room while pretending it hadn’t hurt that his wife had left him.
But it did.
Now he felt doubly rejected.
He groaned and swiped at another patch of dust angrily. The room had been closed up for weeks, so he opened a window a crack to let in some fresh air and glanced outside.
Beyond the window, he saw shapes moving through the gardens. He squinted at them, but quickly realized that it was not gardeners at work.
Three figures…no, four. A woman with a babe on her hip and two small boys were running away from the manor.
Laura was leaving—and taking his children, too!
Panicked, he flung the window wide and jumped out in pursuit.
Laura and his children had a good head start and were headed toward her family estate on foot. Nash had to run to catch up with them before they disappeared out of sight.
He caught up with them on the maze path. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Laura, wearing a different gown of deep green from when he’d last seen her, barely turned to look at him when she answered. “I thought it obvious.”
“Take them back inside,” he ordered.
Her chin rose. “No.”
Nash caught her arm to halt her. “You dare defy me?”
“Oh, I dare.” Her gaze slowly lifted to his. “I’m no meek lamb to the slaughter anymore.”
He pulled her closer. “Meek was never a word I ever used to describe you.”
“Just as well,” she quipped with a haughty shake of her head. She looked down at where he clung to her arm. “Take your hand off me.”
Unfortunately, he had difficulty unlocking his fingers immediately. Despite the long sleeves of her gown, Laura was warm and soft under his fingers and touching her was like a fire in his veins. It was a reaction he’d felt before with her. Once, he’d thought that meant something.
He held her gaze, completely at a loss for what to say now that he had hold of her, and utterly confused by what he was feeling. Was it fury, despair, pride or—even worse—need?
He could not need her. Not again.
He let her go, but slowly.
Laura stepped back immediately, turning her face away and calling out, “Children, where are you?”
“We’re over here,” Thomas called back.
Liam giggled.
Laura turned the corner to go around the maze. “Where?”
“Here,” they called.
Nash shook his head and rushed after Laura, only to find her at a stop beside the maze hedge. The children were nowhere in sight.
“I must have missed the entrance,” Laura muttered, barging past him in search of the way in. “Where are they?”
“There is no entrance on this side,” he warned. “The maze changed after you left and the few gardeners who remain haven’t clipped the hedges since well before Father died. It’s grown thick again. Many of the paths inside have disappeared entirely, I imagine.”
He followed Laura, who seemed on the verge of panic now, frantically peering through the hedge.
“They can’t be too far in. Children,” he called out, “come to the sound of my voice.”
There was a whispered conversation on the other side of the hedge, and then Thomas answered. “We can’t find the way out. What are we going to do?”
Nash groaned at the obvious panic in his youngest son’s voice, but he saw a flash of color from Liam’s blue coat through the foliage. “Stay right where you are. I’m coming.”
Nash ripped at the hedge barehanded, creating a new opening in the wall of greenery to get to his children. It wasn’t easy; the hedge was very old and the branches had thorns that cut into his hands, but eventually he made a large enough hole that the pair could be pulled through.
Liam looked about to cry, and Thomas appeared highly embarrassed. Nash pushed his arms through and shoved back one side far enough that he could see them. He used his feet to push back the other side to make it even larger for the boys. “Come through now and be careful you don’t scratch yourselves.”
The boys squeezed over him and, once on the other side, dusted themselves off without being asked.
Nash jumped out of the gap, and the hedge mostly closed behind him again. He glanced down at his hands, which were now stinging and bleeding.
The boys looked up at Nash, then at Laura—and then burst into tears.
Nash, troubled by their tears, gently shushed them. Tears solved nothing. He bent down to their level and murmured, “No more running into the maze without me or your uncles.”
Laura heaved a sigh. “I didn’t know the maze was not fit for playing in anymore or I’d never have suggested it.”
“No, you know nothing about us or this place anymore,” he bit out, giving her the set down she deserved for placing the children in harm’s way. The maze was not a place for unattended children. “Next time, ask me before you think to leave Ravenswood.”
“I wasn’t leaving Ravenswood. We were just going outside to play,” she protested.
“Well, what was I to think, given how you fled us last time? Go back inside and wait for me in the nursery.”
Laura’s hand curled into fists around Isabelle. “You couldn’t even let them have a day away from their studies to be with me?”
“They were already with you in the nursery.”
Laura held his gaze for a long moment. “Have you any idea how to be spontaneous?”
“Clearly you think I don’t,” he answered, then remembered the children were watching them fight. Their daughter was too young to understand, but the boys surely would understand anger. He started them back toward the palace, encouraging them to run if they wanted to.
He nodded approvingly as Thomas challenged Liam to a race, just as Algernon had done with Nash when they were boys.
“Now the boys are gone, you can cease being stoic and show me your injuries,” Laura demanded, juggling Isabelle and extending one gloved hand.
Surprised by her concern, he let her see the result of her ill-considered decision. Her touch was light, impersonal, as she inspected his skin and each irritating gash.
Nash caught the scent of Laura’s perfume in the air, and he shuddered slightly.
“I did not mean for you to get hurt,” Laura whispered.
But Nash felt no real pain anymore.
Laura had always smelled sweet because of the scented oils and rose petals she added to her bathwater. The combination of woman and perfume had always been soothing to his senses, and arousing.
“Some of these will need proper cleaning. Do they hurt badly?”
He shook his head. Nothing had ever hurt when Laura touched him.
He studied her, unable to tear his eyes away, now that they were so close. Her cheeks flushed with soft color and her lips were pink and pouted. The thought of her in scented hot water, made him tremble again. He’d never dared interrupt her bath, but had imagined her so many times that way.
Laura noticed the shake of his hand and lifted her gaze to his.
Desire flooded him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He wanted to reach out and pull Laura into his arms and let her hair down. Clutch the long strands in his fist as he used to do when they made love and feel her soft, scented limbs slide against his as he kissed her.
He inched closer and inhaled a deeper lungful. Isabelle, however, was held between them, and he could do nothing more than look.
Laura suddenly sniffed the air and her nose wrinkled with distaste instead of the pleasure he felt. “Someone needs changing again,” she murmured.
Nash shook his head, thoughts of lovemaking fading fast as he realized his daughter had soiled her garments.
“Have your valet soak your hand in warm water and a few drops of lavender, if he has any,” Laura told him, putting distance between them at last.
“I can do that myself,” he promised. “I’m more practiced in applying herbs and bandages than anyone at the estate, after all.”
“Yes, of course you would think that.” She sighed. “Well, tend to yourself for all I care, and if you insist we’re to be confined to the nursery to play, then you’ll also be the one to empty the chamber pots. I will take care of our daughter. You, the boys.”
“We’ve servants for that,” he argued.
“Oh, no we don’t. Not anymore. Not during the day. The duke issued specific instructions for what the servants can or cannot do with the children. We are solely responsible for our children’s care now. That includes bathing and changing, feeding and cleaning up after them. Do you know how to do any of that?”
“Of course I do,” he assured her. He just never had to before. He’d had Sophie, and before that, the old nursery maid had taken care of the boys since they were born. Laura hadn’t needed to lift a finger since the day their children had arrived. “I suspect I know more about managing a household than you ever could.”
“Then you would be wrong. As you’ve always been about me,” she whispered. “But I’ve no desire to waste my breath and time by arguing with you.”
She forged ahead with a violent shake of her head before he could stop her. He followed her immediately, but she went directly to where the children were crouched down to look at something near the ground. “Come along, children. Leave the poor insect be. We’ll return to the nursery and you can show me how clever you’ve become.”
“I’m the cleverest boy,” Liam announced proudly, looking at Laura with excitement shining in his eyes. “Miss Sophie told me so.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s correct,” Laura promised him, gazing upon their youngest son with a keen interest, though he must barely remember her. Thomas held himself apart from Laura. He watched her carefully but seemed unable or unwilling to let her too close.
Laura faced an uphill battle to reconnect with their sons after all this time away. They had been much too young when she left to remember much about her now.
They headed toward Ravenswood ahead of Nash, talking together and giving him no part in the conversation about what they would do next that afternoon.
He watched Laura particularly as they moved closer to the palace. Noticed that she hugged Isabelle tighter than ever as she moved into the shadow cast by the house.
She hated to be here. She had returned only for the sake of securing their daughter’s future and her position in the family when she was gone.
The child had him to watch over her now, of course. Nash would never neglect his own offspring. But he could admit to himself that perhaps he had neglected his wife. Becoming so wrapped up in protecting the needs of the family at large, particularly his brothers, had meant she’d been temporarily set to one side. But he’d truly believed Laura would benefit in the end.
Just seeing her again had stirred up so many memories…her complaints, and her familiar presence that soothed him when her body was so close at night. Laura had kept him enthralled long after she’d left.
Father had thought him a softhearted fool and tried to strip him of sentiment as a boy. He’d thought the old man had failed, but maybe he had actually succeeded. Even though Father was gone and no longer a source of conflict, Nash had trouble seeing how he could have done things any differently.
He’d driven her away, perhaps unconsciously. She had been impossible to live with and unhappy. Now things were to change further between them, with the divorce to come.
Instead of the peace he expected, he now had fresh disagreements to mull over and dissect when he could not sleep.
He could not pretend that Laura had felt anything for him, either. She had requested a divorce, too, and the closed door that connected their bedchambers would stay shut for the next thirty days.
For the sake of his sanity, he hoped Algernon would change his mind about supporting the divorce they both wanted. Otherwise, this could very well be the most frustrating month of his entire life.