Page 31 of The Earl and His Lady

I should see to it they both take lemon and honey. Lucas had a vague recollection of his nurse giving him a steaming, sweet concoction after being out in a cold rain. He felt certain the cook, Mrs. Grady, would know precisely what was called for.

They came to the servants’ entrance at the rear of the house, the rain still falling. Lucas pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the warmth of the kitchens.

“Pardon me,” he said to the maids who froze in their work. “Could we have some towels fetched?”

Two maids left the room and the cook started giving orders. Kitchen towels were brought to them, a scullery maid went to work on Edward’s face and Phillip saw to himself. Downstairs maids rushed forward with flapping skirts and the boys disappeared beneath feminine ministrations. Lucas took a step back from them, but his shoe hit a puddle.

Lucas barely registered the slip before he found himself on the kitchen floor, staring up at the ceiling, his backside and head throbbing from impact.

The room went silent. Lucas groaned and closed his eyes.

He heard a footstep coming across the floor toward him, slowly and deliberately.

“Mary,” a calm, soft soprano voice said. “Please take the boys up to the nursery. Use the servants’ stair, please.”

Perhaps his fall was not the reason for such a dramatic silence.

“Yes, my lady.”

Lucas opened his eyes, meeting the gray skirts of his wife before letting his gaze creep upward. Her hands were clasped before her and her chin tilted down. Her green eyes glared at him, snapping like a crackling fire.

Why was she upset? A little mud never hurt anything. Weren’t boys expected to be muddied once in a while?

“My lady,” he said, still not moving. His head had begun to throb. “Good afternoon.”

“My lord.” Her mouth stayed set in a firm line turning down at the corners. “Might I have a word with you in private?”

He supposed he ought to move, but he had the feeling the room would spin the moment he was upon his feet.

“Of course, my lady.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and the world vibrated with the throb in his head. Lucas tried not to groan as he drew his legs beneath him and pushed upward, rising to his full height. The kitchen tilted but with a deep breath he was able to right it again. “Would the greenhouse suffice? I am still dripping, I’m afraid.”

Virginia turned to a maid and held her arms out, accepting a stack of towels from the girl. “It will do, my lord.” She turned and swept down the hall. Lucas followed, eyes on his wife’s rigid shoulders.

What had he done wrong? Her displeasure with him was obvious. All the staff would soon be humming with speculation on the subject of the conversation about to take place.

They walked through one marble-floored hallway to reach the door leading out to the expansive greenhouse. Virginia pushed the door open and stood aside, waiting for him to enter before closing it behind them. The humidity of the greenhouse, though not as warm as the kitchen, kept him from shivering.

Virginia took a towel from the top of her stack and offered it to him.

“Thank you.” He started drying his hair, moving carefully around the giant bump forming on the back of his skull. He watched her, trying to decide exactly what she was thinking. “You wished to say something to me?” he prompted when she continued to stare at him, her face unreadable.

“Nurse Smythe came to me in a terrible state,” she said, her tone even, her eyebrows raised. “Half the staff had already been searching the house for the boys before she found me. Then I went looking for you after the other half was alerted.”

Lucas’s hand stilled, the towel pressed against his neck. “Searching for the—? We weren’t gone very long.”

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Lucas had the feeling she was attempting to hold her emotions in check, but why she was so distraught—

“My lord, no one knew where the children were. They left the nursery without permission. As they are quite young, and in a new home, and the grounds are expansive, the worst was suspected.”

That explanation made a great deal of sense. He brought the towel down and held it in both hands, meeting her eyes squarely. “I didn’t know they weren’t supposed to be out of the nursery. I found them exploring the house.”

“And then you took them out of the house,” she added, turning to drop the towels on a convenient bench. “Without telling anyone.”

He usually did as he pleased without telling anyone.

As she straightened again, her eyes still spitting fire, it occurred to Lucas for the first time that having a family meant more than giving them general security. The rules had changed, even for him.

Virginia narrowed her eyes at him. He had the feeling she disapproved of every aspect of his being at the moment. Did all women have the ability to project such exasperation, or was it a trait singular to mothers?