AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She carried Willa on her hip, looking overloaded by the weight. Melina didn’t look at his eyes. Guilt plunged into him. She blamed him for not keeping the girl. The child still wore her night rail and dropped her head to Melina’s shoulder.
‘Jacob rushed in wanting me to help find his cap,’ Melina said. ‘He thinks you are taking him riding. Don’t you want to wait until after he eats?’
‘He will not shrivel into nothing if he is late eating and he’ll make up for it when we return.’
‘Me go,’ Willa said.
‘No, Little Doll.’ Melina turned to leave the room. ‘We’re going to find some ribbons for your hair.’
‘Make sure the nursemaid has the child’s clothing packed,’ Warrington said as she walked away.
Melina’s back stiffened. She didn’t move. ‘I will gather the things Willa needs.’ Her voice could have had razors attached.
Willa’s arms flailed and she pushed against Melina. Her voice rose. ‘Go.’
‘Not now,’ Melina answered, voice still edged, and then it softened. ‘Later, though.’
Melina let Willa slide to the floor and stand, clasping her hand.
‘Papa.’ Jacob ran in, rushing past Melina and Willa. ‘I found my cap and I washed my face. I’m ready.’
‘We’ll see if cook can find us a biscuit, or something, before we leave.’ Warrington turned back, getting the message on his desk for Broomer to take—the one he’d penned saying Willa could go to the Sinclairs. He’d give it to the servant now, before any more time passed. The sooner this was finished, the better for everyone.
Melina looked at the paper, leaning forward, and he knew she saw the name on it. She grasped Willa’s hand and hurried her away, as if the child could read and understand the words in his hand.
Jacob chattered along beside him, having no more cares than how fast he could ride a horse.
Things could have been so different, but he was tired of looking at the past. Tired of breathing in the memories every moment. Of wearing the past like a cloak around him.
He’d been so besotted with his wife. Besotted. He didn’t know how the word had started. But he’d been sotted for sure. And now he was the same for Melina. Getting her from England would surely cure him. He could feel the burning need inside himself for her, but he could not give in. If he did, he risked her returning to Melos with his child inside her.
And he had to keep moving, moving away from her while she was in England. If he touched her again, he would ache all the more when she left.
She wanted to return to her world. Take the dowry. Care for her sisters. Find her precious rock. And as soon as the little one left the town house, he would go to Whitegate with Jacob. Broomer and Ben could take care of Melina and see that she returned safely to her island.
Now he would keep moving and not think again until miles separated them. He trudged from the house, calling Jacob to hurry.
* * *
When they returned from the ride, Jacob slid from Nero’s back before Warrington could dismount from Chesapeake. The boy dropped to a crouch when he landed, before sitting on his bottom. Then he tumbled forward to his knees before he pushed himself up, laughing, oblivious to the dirt he’d gathered.
During the outing, Jacob had sung, talked about his preferences in horses and the biggest spider he’d ever killed. He’d boasted about seeing rabbits in the flower garden and how upset Dane had been when the deer visited and ate some of the plants all the way down to stems. Now he begged to feed Nero.
‘Let the others care for them. It’s their job.’
‘What is my job?’ Jacob asked, looking up.
‘To be my son. To learn from your tutor when you are back at Whitegate.’
Warrington reached out, wrapped an arm around Jacob’s waist and picked him up sideways, then shook him. ‘I must shake the dirt off you before you get inside.’
Jacob squealed and struggled to get free. ‘Let me down.’
Warrington released him. ‘Didn’t help much.’
Jacob brushed down the front of his shirt. ‘Cook says I’m handsome and she calls me “your lordship”. She keeps tarts hid just for me because I’m a lordship. And she says I’m getting bigger every day because of her tarts.’
‘Perhaps you are, your lordship.’ Pride flowered in Warrington’s body when he looked at Jacob. He could not have asked for anything more in a son.
War reached out, putting his palm at the back of Jacob’s head and giving him a nudge forward to the door.
