“Very good.” Jeremy’s lips twitched, and Ollie’s mouth stretched into a wide grin before he scrambled across the room. After struggling only slightly to pull the heavy door open, he exited and then very purposefully pushed it closed behind him, leaving Lydia alone with Jeremy for the first time in nearly a week.
Jeremy had not moved from where he stood, feet planted wide, hands behind his back.
He looked very much the Earl of Tempest today. Imposing, haughty…
Adorably austere.
“Please, don’t tell me you came here without a companion,” he said.
“My maid is in the kitchen with your housekeeper, taking tea.” And since he appeared to be quite at a loss, Lydia folded her hands in her lap graciously. “Won’t you sit down?” she invited for the second time in less than a quarter of an hour.
…while sitting in a drawing room that was not her own.
She wasn’t going to allow him to chase her away so easily this time. She never ought to have allowed him to chase her away to begin with.
To her surprise, Jeremy took the place Ollie had vacated. If he’d wanted to continue avoiding her, he easily could have claimed the winged-back chair on the opposite side of the room.
“Ollie says he has a brother. Have you had any luck finding him?”
“Buck. And yes, I have.” Jeremy stared down at his hands and her gaze followed.
Slim and masculine with a few curling tendrils of black hair on his knuckles, she couldn’t help but notice how sinewy muscle flexed and moved beneath his skin. Lydia clutched her hands tightly in her lap, squashing the desire to trail her fingers along his forearm… all the way to where it disappeared beneath the folds of his sleeves.
“Lydia?” He was watching her now.
She sat up straight and pressed her knees together. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”
But he was watching her knowingly. Of course, she could never hide her feelings from anyone.
“You found Buck?” she persisted.
“Ah, yes.” Jeremy frowned. “He’s… trouble. Far more trouble than Ollie ever would have been. If Ollie’s going to stand half a chance at a proper life, the older boy can’t remain a part of his life.”
“Oh…” She hated that Buck had beaten on Ollie, but they couldn’t very well keep Ollie from his brother indefinitely, could they? “But he’s Ollie’s brother.”
Pain showed in Jeremy’s eyes, and Lydia guessed that memories of his own brother had come to mind.
“I miss Lucinda every day,” she confessed. “But I know she is happy and well. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be denied a sibling.”
She’d stood beside him at his brother’s funeral and watched him grieve. But he had survived. He’d not hated her brothers then—two men who might provide some of the companionship he missed now.
Jeremy’s throat pulsed. “Buck will ruin Ollie if he remains in his life.”
Of course, he must be right. “What will you tell Ollie?”
“The truth—that he has a choice.”
It was a very, very hard choice to present to one so young. In fact, it was a nigh impossible one.
“So, he’s going to have to choose between his own well-being—his own chance at living a meaningful and productive life—and staying at his brother’s side. I’m not sure he’ll be able to do that. I know that I couldn’t.”
“That’s why I…” Jeremy shook his head dismissively. “I’ll send for your maid.” He moved to rise but Lydia stopped him, placing her hand on his thigh.
“That’s why you what?” she asked, sensing he’d nearly told her something very important. “That’s why you what, Jeremy?”
Chapter 8
Jeremy winced.
He’d damn near spilled his bleeding heart.
“Please, Jeremy. I need to know.” Lydia’s hands gripped above his knees. Seeing the lace of her gloves, her delicate hands resting on his thighs, had him… floundering.
A sensation that in anyone else’s presence was a foreign one.
If she moved her hands just a few inches higher… He closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to have to decide. It would not have been fair.”
“Decide what, between my brothers and… myself?” She squeezed hard, her fingers digging into his muscles. “Tell me, Jeremy. Tell me so that I can understand. Tell me so I can either fix whatever it is that’s caused you to hate all of us or move forward without you.”
“You can’t fix it. No one can fix it. Don’t you think that if anyone could, I would have done that already?”
But perhaps he could tell her some of it. He could tell her just enough so that she could forget about him—forget about the past.
He drew in a sharp breath. He’d let go of her four months ago, and it had hurt like hell. Watching her find someone else… The sharp breath evolved into a painful ache.
“I never wanted you to have to choose between your family and me.” He kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at her. But that was all he would say. It was all he could say.
Because the reason had to do with so much more than just himself. It had to do with the honor of his family, the betrayal of her brothers, and most importantly, his brother’s memory.
He’d been livid after hearing Lucas’ suspicions. Arthur would never commit treason. His brother had not been a traitor.
Shame and guilt attacked him for even considering it.
Damn Lucas. Damn Blackheart.
Damnit, Arthur!
“But why…?” The bewildered pain in her voice had him staring into her eyes, glistening with confused tears, making them look more emerald than blue.
She was completely separate from all of those reasons and yet they had changed the course of her life.
“It has nothing to do with you.” His voice caught.
“But, Jeremy. You are wrong.” One of those tears overflowed and trailed down to the corner of her mouth. “It has everything to do with me—with us.”
He sat frozen, loyalty to his brother warring with his heart. Because she was right. Their future together had been shattered by Lucas and Blackheart’s betrayal. By her brothers’ deplorable accusations.
Arthur was his flesh and blood. His brother would never…
Shifting his gaze to the window, the desire to kiss away her tears nearly broke him.
“Please, Jeremy?”
“Your brothers…” It was all he could say. “I can’t—”
“But it is my brothers you are angry with. It isn’t me that you hate.”
“God, Lydia, I could never hate you.” Quite the opposite.
Was he telling her too much? Was he making this worse than it already was?
“You told me to stay away from you.” A hint of accusation flashed in her gaze. Deserved. Well deserved.
“You need to… allow me to complete the renovations for the orphanage. Allow me to do this for you while you attend balls, garden parties, and river parties. We… Us. Cannot happen. An arrangement between the two of us is impossible.”
He’d said it. So, why didn’t he experience any relief?