“I don’t anticipate it, my lord.”
“You are an insufferable woman,” he said. “I doubt we would have suited.”
“For once, we do agree on something.”
Lord Eastwood departed from the room, and it was only a moment before she heard the main door slam shut.
Colin appeared in the doorway. “I take it that didn’t go well.”
“No, it did not.”
He stepped forward into the room. “Would you care to talk about it?”
“I do, but not at this time.”
“I understand,” he replied. “Take all the time that you need.”
Arabella approached and gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for understanding.”
To her surprise, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Go rest up for dinner,” he encouraged, leaning back. “I can’t have you falling asleep when you dine with us this evening.”
“A nap sounds heavenly,” she sighed.
As she departed from the drawing room, she reached up to touch where his lips had met her forehead. That had been completely unexpected, and completely wonderful.
Chapter Fourteen
Colin sat alone in his study as he read through a pile of correspondence. It was a never-ending task that he dreaded, but it had to be done. He would much rather spend time with Arabella, especially since she was the only bright spot in his gloomy world. For him, she was perfect.
As he reached for another letter, he saw it was from the investigator he’d hired to make inquiries about Sam Burkard. He eagerly unfolded the letter and read the contents.
John stepped into the study. “You look troubled,” he commented.
“I’m afraid I am.”
“Why is that?”
Colin dropped the letter to his desk. “It would appear that Sam Burkard was raised in the neighboring village of Langham,” he said. “But that is all the investigator could discover about him.”
“That’s not much.”
“Apparently, some documents from the army were destroyed when a roof leaked,” Colin explained.
“That is most unfortunate.”
“It is,” he agreed. “The investigator requests permission to travel to Langham to find additional information.”
His brother eyed him with concern. “Then what?”
“I will do right by Sam.”
“But he is dead.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Colin asked gruffly. “He gave his life for mine, and I intend to ensure it was not in vain.”
John walked over to the chair in front of the desk and sat down. “You don’t need to feel guilty about being alive.”
“But I do,” Colin replied, “every single day.”
