Page 35 of The Earl and His Lady

Lucas pushed himself up from the ground and then his hand appeared before her, offering to lift her from her place on the bed. She bent first to kiss Edward on the forehead, then took Lucas’s hand.

“Good night, darling,” she said to her son.

“Good night, Mama. Good night, my lord.”

“Good night, Edward. I hope you sleep better now.” Lucas took her from the room, lifting a candle he must’ve put on the table when he entered.

A clock chimed the hour from somewhere downstairs. It had to be midnight.

When Lucas closed the nursery door behind them, Virginia could hold her words in no longer. But she didn’t wish to offer a rebuke.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned, lifting the candle. The light illuminated his face, showing her the confused tilt of his eyebrows and the frown on his face. “You’re sorry? Whatever for?”

She closed her eyes, willing the right words to come forward. It would be easier to admit her wrong-doing without looking at him. She was, after all, terribly out of practice at making apologies.

“I am sorry for this evening, when I spoke without regard of who was listening or how my tone must sound. While I do not wish to make excuses, I would like you to understand. I have a great deal of respect for your position. I will forever be grateful for your offer of marriage. But a mother’s heart is often fierce in its expressions of feeling, whether good or bad. I let my worry for the boys get the better of me. I’ll do my best not to let it happen again. And I—”

“Virginia.” He spoke at the same instant his hand touched her shoulder and her eyes popped open, meeting his. In the dark hall, with only a small flame to give light, his eyes were a dark shade of gray that reminded her of storm clouds. But they were gentle, not fierce. “I must apologize as well. I spoke critically and defensively. I am sorry for that. It will take me time to get used to being a father. I don’t have the years of knowledge and practice that you do. Please forgive me for upsetting the household and worrying you.”

She stared up at him, her body gradually relaxing when she realized his sincerity in speaking. “Thank you. If you will be patient with me, I will be the same with you.”

“That’s a fine pact, I think.” One corner of his mouth turned upward. “But come, it’s late. We had better make certain Phillip has gone to sleep.”

She walked next to him down the hallway. After a few steps, Virginia remembered she only wore a robe over her nightgown. She hastily tightened the sash at her waist and folded her arms over her chest.

“Phillip?” she asked.

Lucas nodded and she saw him glance at her from the corner of his eyes. “He woke me—or rather, he insisted that I be woken. I must’ve barely fallen asleep when a knock at my door brought me out of it. When I threw it open, expecting the house must be on fire from the urgency of the knock, Phillip and the nursery maid stood there.”

“Oh, dear.” Virginia winced and lowered her eyes to the floor. “I apologize. I’m afraid Edward’s cough disturbs him.”

“He said he was worried it might be more than croup.” Lucas paused and looked down at her, holding the candle between them. She met his eyes again and saw in them a deep concern and compassion she had not expected. Why was he not irritated at the way they had disturbed his whole life and turned it upside-down? After their interaction in the greenhouse, she’d expected less understanding and more censure.

Obviously, she didn’t know him very well yet.

“Your husband died of consumption?”

Virginia did not miss the way he referred to Charles. Not her late husband. Not her first husband. Just her husband. She felt a burning sensation just behind her eyes. She must be more tired than she thought.

“Yes. And he coughed a great deal.” She didn’t close her eyes now. If she did, she would see Charles’s face as it had looked at the end. Pale, gaunt, not at all like the vibrant, handsome man she’d married. She didn’t like remembering him that way.

“I see. Phillip wouldn’t do well with coughing then. Is that why you sent him downstairs, instead of to one of the spare rooms on this floor?” He gestured to the doors behind them, across from the nursery.

Virginia nodded. “He doesn’t sleep at all, even after Edward falls asleep. I didn’t realize it until last time, just a few weeks before we met. But he sat up all night, listening. I thought moving him downstairs would let him sleep.” Her voice broke on the last word and she raised a hand to cover her mouth, preventing a sob from escaping.

Why was she crying? She was too tired to cry. She had cried too much in the months before her husband’s death, in the days and weeks after. She had told herself she couldn’t cry anymore, that she had to be strong and firm.

But now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop.

She lifted her other hand to cover the first, as though she could stuff the sobs back into her throat. But they came and all she could do was try to keep them quiet, try to keep anyone from hearing. Meeting Lucas’s eyes, knowing he must think her insane or ridiculous, she tried to apologize with hers. But it was too much.

Lucas’s eyes had gone wide and he turned from her.

She didn’t blame him. She must be a frightful sight—

His arms came around her and cradled her against his chest. She looked over his shoulder. He had only turned to put the candle down on a shelf behind them.