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Chapter Seven
Oh, God.
“Thank you. She rather is.” When he peered at Deborah, such sadness filled his eyes. “I’m hoping that skill in observation doesn’t hinder her in the future.”
His worry over the child tugged at her chest. Deep down below his surface arrogance and penchant for over-imbibing, he was a good man. “Does she favor her mother in looks?”
The muscle in his cheek twitched. “She does.”
No doubt that was one reason he was both overprotective of the child and had difficulties being in her company. Lavinia tamped on a huff of frustration. In the same low voice, while Deborah chatted with the carriage driver, she asked, “Did you love her mother very much? I assume you did, for you grow quite maudlin when in your cups and speak about her.”
The hand on his thigh curled into a fist. “Yes, I did.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Sometimes I think three years couldn’t surely have gone by, but the calendar tells me it has. Deborah’s growth is an undeniable fact of that. But at others, it seems an eternity since Vivian left this mortal coil.”
“And you had a three-year-old to care for by yourself.” This was the first time he’d told her his wife’s name. “How did she die?” It was interesting to glimpse into this part of his life where she’d previously had no access to. All she’d known before that his wife had expired and hadn’t learned how to square with that.
With a wary glance at Deborah, he said, “In childbirth. She and my second daughter lost their fight within minutes of each other.” When his voice shook, her heart squeezed. “She hemorrhaged from complications of a difficult birth, for the babe was breech. The infant’s lungs hadn’t developed properly, the midwife said.” Emotion graveled the words. Deborah leaned over the side of the carriage to watch the carriage wheels. “It took me time to be able to come to terms with those deaths.”
“I’ll wager you haven’t truly done that yet,” Lavinia whispered as tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Tentatively, she touched a hand to his, but he didn’t relax or even acknowledge the gesture. Frowning, she withdrew. “Is that why you drink? To forget?”
“To forget, to remember.” He shrugged. “We all have our vices, our crosses to bear. And besides, it doesn’t matter, for Lord Randolph and Stanton removed all my liquor from the house earlier today.”
“Ah. I’d wondered why they looked to be on a scavenger hunt.” Though shock held her captive, she strove to hide her surprise. The pain he still fought was evident. It stirred her own, for it was something they had in common in a roundabout way, that pain over lost children. She barely saw the other carriages as they cleared Rotten Row and entered Hyde Park. Grief never truly faded and neither did the guilt of one’s past decisions.
But he didn’t need to know that right now.
“I hope you find peace, Percival. No one should live merely to suffer.” Perhaps she should follow her own advice.
“It’s been rather elusive, I’ll admit. I’m not at all certain peace is something I want.” He peered at her. Anguish was evident in his dark eyes. “I don’t want to forget.”
“Neither should you, but you must lest you become lost to the past or the drink.” Lavinia flicked her gaze to his daughter. “Remember what you have to live for.”
“As I said, I am trying. It’s… difficult.”
“Yes.” After a heavy swallow, she nodded. “I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. It leaves a void. Please don’t do that to Deborah.”
For long moments, the earl didn’t answer. She felt that removal into his thoughts more deeply than she should have. Now that she was married to him, the loneliness was more pronounced, for now she couldn’t retire to her own house.
“Lord Randolph said much the same thing earlier.” He met her gaze. “It is not my intention, but I suspect I will need help.”
She gasped. “Are you asking me to do so?”
“Perhaps.” He flicked his gaze to his daughter. “For her.”
Once more, Lavinia touched his hand. “And for you as well?” she inquired in a barely there voice.
“Yes.” He nodded. “It will be a difficult prospect with stumbling blocks.”
“But it’s worth the try.” For all of them. For years she had coveted a respectable life within the ton, thinking it would be better than living on the fringes of society than she had been only to find a different sort of loneliness once there. Granted, she’d been a countess for less than a week, but still. She would endure; she always did.
“I think so too.” Percival didn’t look her way.
As they fell into silence once more, the driver followed the Serpentine through Hyde Park. The sun was warm upon her face and the air fresh, filled with the scents of growing things, while Deborah kept up a steady stream of chatter and questions that didn’t require answers, for she didn’t pause long enough to receive answers. In many ways, it was a wonderful change from what Lavinia had been used to, and for a few minutes, she let herself revel in that, for it could be yanked away all too soon. Deborah waved to everyone they passed, regardless of whether they acknowledged her or not. The child’s fresh innocence made Lavinia maudlin.
Had she ever known such faith and trust for anything in her life?
“Pull over here, Tommes. Perhaps Lady Deborah would like to walk a bit.”
“Of course, Your Lordship.”
