Desires of a Baron (13 page)

Lucy rounded the corner and cut her eyes just slightly to take in Simon’s reaction to seeing the beautiful young lady in front of them swathed in red. He gave her but a glance then turned back to the statues on their right.

“See, far more fetching than the gargoyle,” he said.

“
Depends on who you ask.” She fingered the worn lace on her sleeve. “As a lady, I think I’d much prefer to see fierce men—or beasts—with their muscles bulging than naked young ladies lounging around as if they have nothing more to do than to sun themselves and let men lust after them.”

Simon developed a slight coughing fit. “I’d never thought of it that way.” He ran an open hand over his chin and momentarily flickered his gaze past her shoulder. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a fancy for ices, would you?”

“I’ve never had one,” Lucy confessed.

“
Never?” Simon asked, his eyes flaring wide. He reached for her hand. “Then we must go find a vendor right now.”

Lucy did her best to keep up as Simon practically dragged her from the museum. She had the strangest feeling it had less to do with wanting to give her an experience she hadn’t had before and was more of his way of escaping past the lady who’d been there. There was something unusual about that, but Lucy couldn’t say what. Nor did she think it was her place to ask him.

Outside, Simon slowed down—but only a fraction and only because if he didn’t they might have been trampled by a horse.

Simon helped her up onto his phaeton before climbing up next to her where he took but a moment to get situated then snapped the reins. “There used to be a vendor two streets over, but I think he was shut down so we’ll have to go to Covent Gardens.”

Covent Gardens? They’d already traveled over an hour together to go to the museum. How much further would it be to go to the Gardens? “We don’t have to—”

“
Nonsense.” He flashed her a grin. “I love ices. Besides, we’re only about half a mile away so be thinking of what flavor you might like.”

“
What are my choices?”

“
Usually lemon or pineapple.”

“
Lemon,” Lucy said automatically.

“
Lemon, it is.” Simon steered the horses down the street to where the ice vendor was standing with his little cart on the side of the road. “There he is.” Simon quickly found somewhere to park his phaeton and secured the horses before helping her down.

Just as her feet touched the ground, Simon released her and she frantically reached her hand out to grip onto the side of the phaeton to steady herself.

“Sorry,” he murmured, gripping her just above the elbows and trying to steady her. “I got distracted. I thought I saw—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“
Was it the same lady from the museum?” she asked, allowing him to lead her toward the vendor.

“
Miss Hughes?” There was a note of surprise in his voice. He gave his head a shake. “No. She only caught me unawares because I didn’t expect to see her there. Or anywhere to be quite blunt.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “She’s rather an odd one. I thought I’d seen Isabelle just now, but I didn’t.”

“
Is Isabelle a lady you should be taking for an ice today instead of me?”

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “No. I think that might be met with some undesirable consequences.” He twisted his lips into an exaggerated frown. “The most likely being her husband’s fist against my jaw.”

“Her husband?”

Simon nodded and ordered two lemon ices from the vendor. The man took Simon’s coins and handed him their ices. “Is the bench all right or would you prefer to go back to the phaeton?”

“The bench.”

Simon walked beside her to the bench and once she was seated handed her one of the ices then took a seat beside her, but he didn’t start eating his own ice right away.

“At the start of the Season, I met Isabelle and after some convincing, she accepted my plea to court her.” He let out another bitter bark of laughter. “She never told me she was still married.”

“
Still?”

Simon ate a spoonful of his ice. “She’d been involved in some sort of scandal a few years ago. Something about her trapping Lord Belgrave into a Gretna Green marriage.” His light tone would suggest that he really didn’t care about the scandal. Her heart warmed. Perhaps he really didn’t care about her past, either. “Rumor had it that as soon as they returned, the marriage was annulled.” His right shoulder went up in a stiff shrug. “I guess that fact was purely a rumor.”

“So they’d never had it annulled?”

“
According to Giles, no.”

“
And you still care for her,” Lucy concluded.

“
No, no, not at all,” Simon rushed to say. “It’s for the best that Lord Belgrave never signed the papers.” He exhaled. “It’s also for the best that Giles told me the truth, for if I hadn’t left the house party when I did, I wouldn’t have been beaten nearly to death and gotten to meet you. Instead, I’d still be trying to woo a married Isabelle.”

Lucy wasn’t sure how much she believed him. She couldn’t argue with his travel timing, of course. But what of his calling his former love interest by her Christian name? If she were still married, she’d be Lady Belgrave, and if he wasn’t so convinced that she was still married, he should continue to call her by her maiden name. Referring to her as Isabelle seemed to belie his claim that his romantic interests toward here were nonexistent. Besides, Seth had found him only a matter of days ago. That didn’t seem like an adequate time for his feelings for Isabelle to have dissolved, which would mean his interest in Lucy was likely perpetuated only by his sense of loss of Isabelle. She stilled and waited for some sort of sadness or bitterness to touch her at the knowledge. But it didn’t. And that only confirmed they were not the right match.

“Is that the reason you and your Lord Norcourt aren’t so close?” she asked, more for a change of topic than out of her own curiosity. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

“
You mean because he was such a distraction that I couldn’t properly woo Isabelle?”

Lucy knew by the expression on his face that as soon as he said those words, he wished he hadn’t. She cast him a weak smile. “Is that what happened?”

Simon raked his free hand through his brown hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know what happened.” He dropped his hand to his spoon and idly poked at his melting ice. “She’d agreed to let me court her before the house party. I thought I’d be able to woo her into agreeing to marry me, but then Giles came and—” He shrugged and released his spoon.

“
Did he like Isabelle, too?” She closed her mouth with an audible snap. What had possessed her to ask him that? It wasn’t any of her business who Giles was interested in.

Simon shrugged again. “He might have, but I don’t think so.” He let out a sharp bark of humorless laughter. “Not that it would have mattered. I still think she would have chosen her own husband.”

“Then how did his presence effect your relationship with her?” Again, it wasn’t really her place to ask him such questions, but for some reason she was truly interested in his answer.

“
I don’t know what to say to him,” Simon said at last.

“
You mean because he doesn’t always understand what’s not spoken?” She prayed that’d be a delicate way to state it.

“
That’s only part of it.” Simon kicked at the pebbles below their feet with the side of his leather boot. “We have no common ground, save our...er...mother.”

Lucy took his meaning, like her, he’d noticed the striking resemblance Giles had to Mr. Appleton and though it could never be spoken, had assumed they both had the same parentage. “Have you tried to talk to him? To build a relationship with him?”

Simon snorted. “Isabelle suggested the same thing and when I tried it all came out wrong and ended with both of us uncomfortable and me bound for Shrewsbury.” Though he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes.

Lucy frowned. “Surely, that’s not the only time you’ve ever spoken to him.”

“Alone, it was.” At what he had to recognize as a doubtful expression on her face, he added, “I didn’t even know he existed until a few weeks ago when my mother insisted I come to some dinner  only to find the host not only looked exceedingly familiar, but my mother was acting very friendly toward him and referred to him as her son.” He set his ice down on the bench next to him and folded his hands in his lap. “For the sake of appearances that night, my mother offered me some brief explanation of him being the child I always thought she’d lost while married to Lord Norcourt.”

An overwhelming sense of painful understanding cascaded over Lucy causing her heart to crack. She knew there was more to this family than anyone might have been comfortable to tell her, but now so much made sense. Why the two seemed to be at odds every time they were in a room together. Why Simon’s mood changed when Giles joined them for dessert. He’d tried to act polite, but it was just that: an act. Even why Giles seemed to dislike his mother so much seemed to fall into place. If she’d kept something like this from Simon, likely she’d kept something of equal consequence from Giles.

“Not that I want him dead,” he continued, breaking into her thoughts. “I don’t, so please don’t misunderstand. It’s just distracting. I don’t even know where to start with him.” He pursed his lips and twisted them. “Or with my mother. Giles wasn’t in a position to tell me about his existence, but my mother was.” He closed his eyes then shook his head. “I’m sorry. It really isn’t fair of me to burden you with all of this.”

“
It’s not a burden,” Lucy assured him. And truly, it wasn’t.

“
Are you ready to go back to the library?”

“
I believe so, yes.”

Chapter Seventeen

Giles was almost certain he’d spent the last three days sitting on a bed of nails and with each day that passed the points grew sharper and sharper.

He’d half expected on Monday afternoon that Simon would have darkened his door and demanded he not spend any more time with Seth. Not that Giles had done anything for which to be warned away from the boy, but he actually liked Seth and enjoyed his company and that was good enough reason for Giles to suddenly lose something—if history were to repeat itself.

On Tuesday, Mr. Appleton had come by only to assure Giles he was still looking into things, but he’d had to send a formal letter to Lord Cosgrove’s solicitor to request a few missing documents. He’d promised to return with more information when he received the documents and could review them. That was not comforting in the least.

Then on Wednesday, the fears from the two days prior had doubled with a simple line in the announcement section of the newspaper: Lord and Lady Belgrave were still officially married and had reconciled. Giles hated to seem selfish, but this was atrocious timing for him. This news might infuriate Simon or his father and make Mr. Appleton stop helping him, or worse, have Simon confront him and tell him to stay away from Lucy and Seth. Which was his right to do.

Giles closed his eyes while Franks set out his clothes for the day.

Thursday’s grand event came in the form of an eleven-year-old boy who wished to come paint again.

“
Did you not get your fill of painting on Monday?”

“
No.” Seth pushed his way into his house. “I was just putting the green on the trees when I had to go. I can’t leave them barren, can I?”

“
No, I suppose not,” Giles agreed, tousling the boy’s hair. “Go ahead and start. I need to dash off a note to Lord Belgrave then I’ll be in to join you.”

The boy scampered away, making Giles laugh as he went to his study. He sat down and penned a quick missive informing his friend that he wouldn’t be able to meet him at White’s again today. Sebastian wouldn’t mind, of course. He was probably busy enjoying bedsport with his new wife and this only freed him up to do it more. Giles tightened his hold on his quill and counted to ten. He shouldn’t be jealous of Sebastian. His wife loved him. There wasn’t much more a man could ask for and Giles should be happy for him, not jealous that he himself was destined to die a virgin. He nearly snorted. He’d never even kissed a lady.

Giles tossed down his pen and made himself stand. He was not going to dwell on this. He quickly sealed the missive, then handed it to a footman and went to the painting room.

“
It looks...nice.”

“
You think so?”

No.
It looked like the boy just swished the brush around in every which direction. But that might be Seth’s best and Giles wasn’t in a habit of making others feel bad for their shortcomings. “Of course.”

“
You’re lying.”

Giles didn’t know how to react to such an accusation and hoped Seth’s smile meant he was only teasing. “Did you draw it out first?” he asked the boy.

“Draw what out?”

“
What you’re trying to paint.”

Seth blinked. “No.”

“You should. It’ll help.”

“
I’m not very good at drawing.”

Giles chuckled and picked up a pencil. “Sure, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“
Have you tried?”

His face turned the color of an apple’s peel. “Once.”

Giles sat down on his three-legged stool. “And?”

“
It was supposed to be a cactus like the one I’d seen in a book.”

“
A cactus?”

“
It’s a tall, rounded plant that has thousands of needles poking out all over.”

“
Ah, I’ve seen a picture of one of those.” An image of said cactus formed in his mind. “That sounds easy to draw.”

“
I thought so, too,” Seth agreed as the color rose in his cheeks again.

“
Was it not?”

“
No, it was easy to draw,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, I didn’t make the two arms that flanked the trunk on either side thin enough or tall enough and when I showed it to my mama she squealed and asked why I was drawing my private parts.”

A rush of laughter came over Giles, wracking his entire body with mirth. “I’m sorry,” he gasped between fits of laughter. Truly, he didn’t mean to laugh at the boy, it was more the mental image of what the picture must have looked like and the horrified look that had to come over Lucy’s face that made him react so.

“I didn’t mean to,” Seth said adamantly. His quiet tone extinguished all of Giles’ laughter.

“
I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I did not mean to laugh at you.”

Seth blew out a breath and studied the thinning fabric in the knees of his black trousers. “I don’t know why she thought it looked like that. It had all those spines all over everything. I was only eight, I didn’t have hair there like Simon does.”

“Like Simon does?” Giles asked in surprise. While he didn’t doubt that Simon had sprouted hair in various places of his body, he wondered how Seth would know such a thing.

“
When he was injured, we had to carry him inside and mama, she—” the boy’s face started to gain color at a rapid rate again— “she thought we should take his clothes off to tend his wounds.
All
of his clothes.” The boy lifted chin. “I wouldn’t let her. There are some things womenfolk don’t need to see.”

A range of emotions came over Giles, the most prominent being sympathy. He shouldn’t have laughed a moment ago. He knew better than anyone what it was like to be mocked about such matters. He’d forever remember the look on Sister Catherine’s face when she’d ordered him an ice bath and made him strip off his clothes. He couldn’t have been much older than Seth was and was humiliated by Sister Catherine’s response when she’d seen his naked body and called all the other Sisters in to see him before prevailing upon Father Thomas to explain to Giles the things she didn’t understand. He hated her for doing that to him.

“I’m sorry for laughing, Seth.” The words were practically ripped from his throat. “I shouldn’t have laughed. Can you forgive me?”

“
Yes. I’m not upset, Lord Norcourt.” He bit his lip. “I just don’t understand.”

“
About where you went wrong with your picture or the hair?” Though his face burned, he was glad he’d been able to get the words out.

“
The latter.”

“
You’ll get it,” Giles assured him. “We all do.”

“
When?”

“
Depends on the boy. Some are ten or eleven and some are fourteen or fifteen.”

“
Fourteen or fifteen?” Seth shrieked as if it were an outrage.

Giles chuckled. “There was a boy at the orphanage with me who was fifteen and you’d have thought he’d have just been granted a trust with fifty thousand pounds the way he was celebrating.”

“Celebrating?”

“
He didn’t think it’d ever happen.” Giles shrugged. “He was the last one.”

“
Oh.” He continued to bite his lip. “So I might be fourteen or fifteen before…”

“
Could be. Could be sooner.”

“
How old were you?”

Giles idly scratched his neck and commanded himself not to become embarrassed. His conversation with the priest had been far less comfortable and he liked Seth too much to condemn him to such a fate. “Twelve.”

“Lord Norcourt—”

“
Giles,” he corrected.

Seth’s face beamed. “Giles, can I ask you something else?”

Giles clenched his teeth together. He didn’t think he could take much more of this conversation. But neither did he want Seth to be forced to ask his mother or just not know. “Of course.”

“
Why were you in the orphanage?”

Giles relaxed slightly. That wasn’t so bad. He crossed his ankles. “Well, when I—”

His words were cut off when Tarley, his butler, cleared his throat. “My lord, Mr. Appleton has come to see you. He’s waiting in your study.”

“
Thank you,” he murmured to the butler. Standing, he turned to Seth. “This should only take a few minutes. I’ll answer your question when I get back.” He opened the bottom drawer of the bureau and withdrew a sketchbook. “Meanwhile, why don’t you practice your drawing?” He paused and playfully wagged a finger at the boy. “And no tallywags and whirligigs, you understand?”

Shaking his head ruefully at the boy’s laughter, Giles steeled his nerves for what he might hear and went to his study.