Page 7 of Broken

“I was just reminding myself what the old house looked like,” Giles said. “I haven’t been in this chamber in years.” And didn’t plan to return. Children were not in his future.

“No need to imagine…” Lord Winter’s voice trailed off, hands clenching tightly on a slate. It still held childish writing. Lord Winter’s hand shook and the slate broke apart, smashing to pieces on the bare hardwood floor.

Alarmed, Giles approached the baron. Blood had leached from his face, but aside from that he was unharmed. “Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll send a servant to deal with it. Let’s go enjoy what’s left of the day.”

Giles guided the unresponsive man toward the door and shut it behind them. Poor man. The writing on the slate had been childish and repetitive: “I will be good.”

It wasn’t his sister’s handwriting, nor his. It matched the writing in Lilly’s journal.

By the time they reached the drawing room, Lord Winter’s color had returned to normal, but he reached for the brandy as soon as it came into view.

Giles left him to get foxed again, and turned to his letters to avoid participating in another uncomfortable conversation.

The first few he had were invitations. But a note from a friend caught his eye and he broke the seal.

Dear Daventry,

My sister has agreed to marry a crushing bore. The date is set for a month away and I’m under siege about my own wedding. I’m begging for an invitation to Cottingstone to get away from my mother and her obsession with planning the perfect wedding breakfast. Please. Help.

Yours most sincerely.

Viscount Carrington

Giles choked off a laugh, glancing at his companion to see if Lord Winter was paying any attention. He didn’t imagine Lilly’s father would appreciate levity, even if his friend’s situation was damned funny.

Poor Carrington—stuck in London with just the women of his family. They would be in an absolute frenzy of activity. Giles supposed he could save the lad from his mother’s unsubtle attempts at arranging a double wedding.

He cringed when he thought of Carrington’s intended bride. She was a dragon in the making, far too controlling for Giles’ taste. Why the viscount had agreed to the match was beyond his understanding. Especially since Carrington’s heart was engaged elsewhere.

But Giles refused to interfere.

He had meddled once, at great risk to a friendship he valued above all others. Even though that situation had turned out well, it could very easily have gone the other way. Still, he’d be more than happy to help Carrington avoid the parson’s clutches a mite longer.

Grinning, he reached for a sheet of paper. Carrington could come and, as an afterthought, Giles asked him to bring more brandy. At the rate Lord Winter was imbibing, there would be very little left in the decanter by the end of the week. He would need a lot more for when the baron returned from Wales. He had no doubt Winter would require considerable fortification to complete his plans to exile his daughter.

He returned to his stack of correspondence, picked up one, but was overwhelmed by the scent of lilac. He flipped it over and was surprised to find it bearing the address of a recent lover.

My dear Lord Daventry,

These weeks without you have been too dreadful to relate. London is so dull and lifeless. Come back soon. I miss your touch.

Very truly yours,

Lady M.

Giles shuddered. A love note? Lady Montgomery knew exactly when he was returning to London. He had been very specific. He didn’t like that she’d attempted to entice him back. Their affair was a casual fulfillment of basic bodily needs—nothing further.

If she was that starved for attention, she should find someone to take away the ache. He wouldn’t care. Hell, Sabine should rejoice in his lack of possessiveness. Apparently, though, his lover had the idea their affair had progressed beyond the simple pleasure he meant it to be.

He didn’t think a letter was the appropriate way to remind her of his indifference to permanent relationships, so he slid her letter to the side and reached for the next. Sabine’s note would feed the flames as soon as he got to his feet. Perhaps by ignoring her demands, he’d communicate the affair was well and truly run its course.

CHAPTER THREE

Lord Winter’s parting the next day took some time. While Giles watched on, horses and carriages drew up in front of the house, swarming with servants as they prepared for departure. Much to Giles’ discomfort, the baron planned to take most of his staff with him. Only the nurse would remain behind to care for Lilly.

Giles found that thought vastly unsettling. He did not like that Lilly was solely reliant on the services of one person. When the baron had also requested his silence regarding his destination, alarm bells pealed.

He thought it was obvious that he wouldn’t say a word about Lillian Winter’s presence. Why would he tell the world that he had a single, unmarried woman staying in his country house without a proper chaperone? But, while Giles waited for the man to depart, he had to wonder why it was so important he keep the baron’s destination secret too.