Page 56 of Return to Wildsyde

Luella stared at her in alarm. “Oh, no! Lady Helena, please. I don’t believe he thinks that, it’s only that he believes I tried to force his hand, that I orchestrated the appearance of my chaperone to make him marry me and—”

“And he’s an idiot,” Helena said firmly. “But then he’s a man with feelings for a woman, so the two things are inextricably entwined. The blasted fool. Oh, I could shake him.”

Blinking with shock, Luella could only gaze at Lady Helena in wonder. She had never had someone to stand beside her before, to take her side. Certainly not a woman like this, and one who knew so little of her.

Lady Helena shook her head and reached over, giving Luella’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t you worry, dear. Ruth—that is, Lady Morven—and I have things in hand. You just leave it to us and don’t you worry. It will all work out for the best.”

Lyall groaned as the sharp knock on the hotel room door informed him it was seven in the morning and time he was up. Having arrived in London far too late and with no time to alert the staff at the house his parents kept in town, he’d booked a room in the first place he found. That it was within spitting distance of Peregrine House, the Knights’ town residence, was neither here nor there.

His journey had given him far too much time to think and, the more he thought, the more evidence that he was an idiot was provided for him. Memories assailed him. Luella standing over him, demanding he eat the bread she’d made, her expression eager and hopeful; Luella drunk as an emperor on whisky cherries and singing exuberantly off-key; Luella huddled beside Murdoch in the cold and rain, her cloak covering far more of his injured dog than herself; Luella lying beneath him, her eyes soft with desire and… and what?

Had that been merely affection, or something more? His guts twisted with regret. Why hadn’t he seen what had been right in front of him? Had he missed his chance now? For she’d spent the past days with Felix bloody Knight. Had he been kinder to her? Had Felix seen what Lyall had only now realised, that Luella was special, that she brought joy to everyone’s lives and made things better?

Lyall had drunk rather more than he ought last night, but it was that or spend the next hours having murderous thoughts about Felix, or worse still, turn up on his parents’ doorstep demanding to know what their son had done with Luella. Lyall’s mother and Lady Helena were very close friends, and the Knights were practically family. He even addressed the lady as Aunt Helena, though he had never addressed Gabriel as Uncle. That was far too intimidating a prospect for a small boy. Gabriel had been a lot of fun, though, and he and Lyall had always been close. He was a man Lyall respected greatly, not only for all he’d achieved, but for being far more of a gentleman than most others who claimed the title by birth. Everything Lyall knew about Felix told him that he, too, was a gentleman to his core, but Lyall was not feeling entirely rational.

Felix Knight was only a little older than Luella, but even Lyall could see he was a handsome fellow and being heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country hardly hurt his prospects, even if his father was a self-made man. His mother was the daughter of a duke, so no one could say he entirely lacked breeding. Lyall reminded himself sternly that Luella didn’t care about such things, but it didn’t make him feel better.

How Luella had fallen into company with him, he could not fathom. It wasn’t until he had reached Manchester that he’d discovered who it was she was with. The mysterious carriage that had appeared at Wildsyde the morning she had disappeared had remained just that, with no one any the wiser who had been there or why. Had it been Felix, and if so, what the devil was he doing visiting without a word and disappearing again? No, that sounded too bizarre. But who else? Luella must have taken a chance and asked them to take her with them. But how on earth had Felix arrived on the scene? Lyall had followed the carriage all the way to Carlisle, none the wiser who she was with, but certain Luella was in the company of whoever owned or had hired it.

At Manchester, he’d lost the trail, and had spent several terrible days uncertain of which direction to take or what to do next, when he’d chanced to bump into an old friend who had remarked he had seen Felix in company with a very tasty morsel. On further interrogation, Lyall had concluded it was certainly Luella and had been more relieved than he could say when his friend confirmed she had been travelling with a middle-aged chaperone and bound for London.

The tedious journey back to London had been rendered interminable by the noxious churning of guilt and regret that sat heavy in his guts and tormented his every thought. Why had he been such a damned fool? He knew she was different. He’d known for some time she was not like Lilith, not even close. Luella was kind and caring and giving. Yes, she had a temper, and she didn’t suffer fools, but he liked that about her. He liked her very much. So much so that the thought of seeing her in the company of someone like Felix Knight was making him wretched with jealousy that he had no right to feel.

The same questions circled his brain as he forced himself to wash and shave. How had she fallen into company with Felix, of all men? Why had she gone with him? Where was she going? She had no money, no friends in town that she had mentioned, and certainly no family that she wished to contact. Was she so desperate to be out of Lyall’s company that she would do anything to be free of him? That idea made him sick to his stomach. Surely, she would never leave Jack unless she had a plan. But what the devil was it?

Delayed and cancelled trains hampered his journey, which took far longer than usual. By the time he’d finally reached London, he was beside himself. Though he was frantic with the desire to storm the Knights’ front door and demand to see Luella, Lyall forced himself to dress with care. He needed all the help he could get, and the one thing he had going for him was that the foolish girl wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Was that all it was, though? The question sat uneasily in his chest, making him remember every interaction with her. They had been drawn to each other from the first. He had been aware of her attraction to him from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and then he had seen that naked desire shining in hers. His own feelings had been too tangled with revulsion for Lilith for him to make sense of them to begin with, but Luella’s spirit and quick wit had drawn him in, and evidence of her kindness had taught him the truth. She was her own person, and nothing like her scheming cousin. He had forgotten that at a crucial moment, and now his future hung in the balance.

He dreaded to think what people would say when they discovered he was courting his wife’s cousin, and after Lilith had made such a fool of him. Especially if Mrs MacLeod didn’t keep her tongue between her teeth. No doubt they’d say he was the biggest fool on earth. He would be, too, if he let her get away from him. The realisation that he didn’t care what people said anymore, not if Luella really cared for him, spurred him on.

Lyall forced down a hasty breakfast in the hopes it might quiet his stomach and clear his head and was hurrying down the steps of the hotel when a carriage pulled up. The window came down and a peremptory upper-class voice hailed him.

“Lyall Anderson, don’t you take another step.”

Rather astonished to be addressed as if he were a small boy, Lyall turned with a scowl, about to remonstrate, when he locked gazes with a familiar pair of glittering green eyes.

“Aunt Helena!” he exclaimed, rather shocked. The fierce expression she wore told him he was found out.

Luella was indeed with the Knights, and Helena had a fair idea what he’d done.

“Get in.”

It was a command, not a suggestion. Heat crawled up the back of his neck and he did as he was told, not being entirely stupid.

He climbed into the carriage and sat down opposite Helena, struggling to meet her uncompromising glare.

“How do you do, Auntie? Ye are looking well.”

“Never mind the flummery, you great lummox. What the devil have you to say for yourself?”

The heat burning the back of his neck reached his ears and Lyall cleared his throat awkwardly. “Not a great deal,” he admitted.

Helena snorted. “Then you had better start thinking, for that girl needs an elegant apology if you want to come anywhere near repairing the damage you’ve done.”

“She er… she told ye, then?” Lyall said, appalled, his colour rising.

“Yes, she did. Enough to know you behaved like an utter cad. The poor child was inconsolable, you big lout. How could you, Lyall?”

Lyall rubbed the back of his neck, acknowledging the roil of mortification and regret as a sour mixture churning in his guts. “Ach, I dinnae ken how. I lost my mind, but when that blasted woman strode in on us, it was Lilith all over again. I did nae stop to think. I was just so… so disappointed.”