Desires of a Baron (2 page)

Chapter One

Shrewsbury

Lucy Whitaker frowned as she climbed the rickety stairs to the apartments above the smithy’s shop on the ever-hustling Flynt Street. She crested the top of the stairs and a chill ran down her spine. Something wasn’t right about this. Her son, Seth, had met her when she’d returned from working at the bakery with a pot of soup that was already made and poured into a carafe for traveling. He’d then told her that there was an ailing man in the village, gave her his direction and begged her to hurry and deliver him the soup.

Only because she loved her son and didn’t want to see him hurting over yet another of his friends dying, just another disappointment he’d face in his short life, she’d reluctantly agreed to go.

Lucy tightened her hold around the handle of the carafe. She’d promised Seth she’d come and deliver the man a bowl of soup and medicine. But that was as far as her Christian charity went. Once she gave him what she’d brought, she’d be on her way.

She found his apartment, 2B, and knocked twice on the door before letting herself inside. She stepped inside and froze. Before her stood a man, virile and young. Decidedly not sick in the least. “Pardon me, I must have the wrong direction,” she rushed to say, taking a step back.

The young man with light blond hair and blue eyes reached for her. His touch made her skin grow cold and turn nearly frigid when he gave her what he might think was an affectionate squeeze. “I don’t think so.”

Panic welled up inside Lucy and she wrenched her arm away from him, taking another step toward the door.

His rich chuckle filled the room. “The boy said you might be upset.” He gestured to the faded blue divan in front of the window. “Come, we’ll talk first.”

Boy? Talk?
First?
So many partial questions formed in her mind, the least of which was what exactly did Seth have to do with this? “Sir, I think you have the wrong idea. I’m not here for—for—” she waved her hand in a circular motion in the air— “
that.
”

He frowned and crossed his arms, the sun glinting off his signet ring, filling Lucy with a sense of dread. Not only was he handsome, but he was titled. “But I thought—”

“Yes,” she cut in crisply, doing her best to tamp down her true feelings for men of his ilk. “I’m sure you did and I was led to believe I was coming here to deliver soup and herbs to a man nearing his deathbed.” A bubble of irritation swelled up inside Lucy as the memory of her son’s words that he was so sick came back to her:
He’s nearly delirious with fever,
Seth said, thrusting the soup in her direction.
He could die at any moment, so please go now.

“
I see,” the handsome stranger said slowly, pulling her back to present. “I suppose then you’re not interested in...” He trailed off with a lopsided shrug and a wolfish smile.

“
No,” she snapped. “I need to get back home to my son.”

“
Son?” he echoed, a myriad of emotions passing over his face.

“
Yes, the young fellow who suggested this—this—this
assignation
, is my son,” she confirmed, her face heating.

He had the decency to flush, but only a little. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “You must understand, I don’t usually take recommendations of this sort from young boys, it’s just—”

She waved him off before he could say another word and further mortify them both. “He didn’t know what he was doing.”

The strange man stared at her, then blinked slowly.

“He’s just trying to find himself a father,” Lucy burst out before she could think better of it. Another burning wave of embarrassment came over her.

“
Uh—uh—uh,” the young lord stammered, his face turning as violently red as she imagined hers was. “I’m not interested in that. I was just—”

“
Yes, I know what you wanted,” she cut in, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes on him. “Nonetheless, Seth did not know that was your intention.” She sighed as a defeating sadness threatened to overcome her. “He’s just a boy and doesn’t understand the way of the world,” she whispered aloud, more for her own benefit than for the man who was standing before her looking decidedly uncomfortable. Pushing away the feelings of failure and anger that were swiftly overcoming her, she inclined her chin and forced herself to meet the still wide eyes of the man in front of her. “I do hope you have learned a lesson today.”

“
Indeed. I shall never again accept the help of a village imp.”

“
Perhaps the word
never
is a bit strong. Surely, you could accept his assistance to hold your lead while you visit a shop or give you directions to the smithy’s without the expectation of soon becoming his father.” At the man’s choked laughter, more choking than laughter, of course, Lucy allowed herself a small smile then excused herself from the room.

Once outside, the emotions came with the force of a team of the king’s finest horses charging at her as if she were the enemy and he must capture her and behead her at once. Anger. Humiliation. Confusion. Sadness. And finally, helplessness. Through the tears that now burned her eyes and blurred her vision, she made her way to the lane that would lead her back to the crumbling stone cottage she rented on the fringes of the village.

She took a deep breath to calm her fraying nerves and steady her uneasy gait. Twelve years ago she’d made a mistake. A mistake that not only would taint her name for the rest of her life, but had ruined the life of an innocent child. Biting back the vile curse that resounded over and over in her head for the man who’d put her into this position, she walked on and directed that curse at herself. She’d been the one who’d believed his lies and given herself to him. She’d also been the one who’d tried her best to protect her son from what he really was: a bastard. A cold sweat came over her and she was only vaguely aware that she was violently shaking when the carafe of soup that was dangling from the crook of her arm hit her in the rib.

“
Ooof,”
she muttered, not slowing her steps. A million thoughts flew through her mind, but the one that stood out the most was she had no choice but to explain Seth’s parentage to him. The truth. All of it. He was almost twelve now, he deserved to know; and for as painful as it might be for both of them, he might understand why his efforts weren’t appreciated. Her chest constricted, crushing her heart and lungs and making it nearly impossible for her to drag in another breath. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of it. But that didn’t make it go away. She’d made a horrible mistake and he’d been made to suffer just as much, if not more than, she. She’d always known it, but after her recent conversation with Lord Virile and Primal, it seemed so real and definite. Crushing.

“
Mama! Mama! Come quick. I found you a man!” came the excited voice of her son, jarring her to present. He skidded to a halt in front of her, blinking his moss-green eyes at her. “Have you been crying?”

His innocent question made her eyes flood with tears once more. “We’ll talk at home.”

His eyes grew wide and his cheeks pinkened, presumably at realizing his earlier actions were about to lead him into trouble. “Yes, ma’am,” he said solemnly. “But first—”

“
No. We’re going home, now.” She reached for his arm to keep him close by, but he pulled away and wildly shook his head, sending his sandy blond hair all over the place.

“
Mama, there’s a man who needs help—”

“
I’m sure there is,” she retorted, pursing her lips. “But he can get whatever help he needs from someone else.”

“
There isn’t anyone else,” he argued.

“
Seth,” she said on a sigh. “I cannot—no,
will not
—help that man with whatever it is that’s ailing him.”

His eyes grew wider if that were possible. “But isn’t it your Christian duty?”

She would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if that wouldn’t have meant laughing at the innocence of her son in the ways of the world. “Seth, let’s go home. It’s time we talk.”

“
All right, Mama. I’ll talk about anything you want to—pastry dough, sewing, flowers, anything—but please help this man first. He’s hurt.”

“
Genuinely hurt?”

Seth nodded.

“Physically?”

Seth’s brows knit together and Lucy sighed again.

“What can you tell me about this man, Seth?” Why was she even asking? After her recent experience in the village at the hands of her meddling son, the last thing she wanted to do was to go see another “ailing” man. But something within was stirred. It might have been the panic in her son’s eyes or the way he spoke with such conviction. She didn’t know, but something inside of her she couldn’t make sense of wanted to know more.

“
He’s rich,” Seth said simply.

That did it. Lucy steeled her spine and reached for her son’s arm above the elbow. “While I thank you for your efforts, my boy, they are for naught. We are going home. Now.”

He pulled away from her and began running.

“
Seth, wait!” she called, dropping her carafe of soup and running off after her son. The sun was already so low in the sky that in an hour or so it’d be completely dark. While she was confident he could find his way home if necessary, she didn’t want him to be out wandering around while a strange man lurked in the woods. Her heart jumped to her throat. What if this man grew angry when Seth didn’t bring Lucy back with him? She ran as fast as she could to keep up. It was hopeless to believe she, a woman of nine-and-twenty, could keep up with a boy of eleven, but as long as she could still see him, she wouldn’t panic. Yet.

He led her through the woods and in the direction of his favorite place: the Old Elm. She should have known. It was his favorite place to go during the day. While most boys his age would have stripped off all the tree’s branches and fashioned swords out of them, Seth preferred to sit under the shade the Old Elm provided and read. She swallowed another round of emotion. Just another way her son was different.

Seth came to an abrupt stop and Lucy almost ran into the back of him, then dropped her eyes to the ground and a strangled sob erupted from her throat at what lay on the ground in front of her.

“
I told you he needed help,” Seth said, his voice full of raw emotion.

Lucy fell to her knees at the side of the lifeless, dark haired stranger. Discarding all reservations and decorum, she reached a hand toward his blood-covered face. His skin was still warm. Whether that was a sign of life within or the blood that covered so much of him, she couldn’t know until she examined him better. She moved closer and rolled him over onto his back.

“
I thought you said he was rich,” she said, trying to keep herself calm as her eyes scanned over this man’s beaten and bloodied body.

“
I presume he was—before he was robbed,” Seth said simply, dropping to his knees next to her.

Lucy couldn’t stop the slim smile that spread her lips. Her boy was clever, he was. He might be a bastard and seemingly unable to fully comprehend what that would mean to him and the things he’d never have because of his bastardy, but he was clever and the only ray of joy in her life these past eleven and a half years.

Not sure if the man who was lying before her was still alive or not, but not wanting to hurt him more if he was, she gingerly touched his wrist and felt for a pulse. She felt one. Barely. Releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she looked up to her son and met his tear-filled eyes.

“
He’ll be all right,” she lied. “But I need you to help me.”

He nodded wordlessly.

“We need to carry him back to the house so I can clean him up and examine him better.” She moved to stand at the man’s shoulders. “I’ll lift him under his arms and carry him as best I can. I need you to hold his ankles and make sure we don’t drag him.”

Seth looked at her for a moment in disbelief, then shrugged and grabbed the man’s ankles while Lucy slid her hands under his shoulders and closed her fingers in his armpits. Then, together, they lifted. And grunted. The man was heavy. No, not just heavy. There had to be another word that was more accurate. She just didn’t know what it was.

Fortunately their house was only a quarter mile away.

Even more fortunate, for Lucy, Seth
and
the man they carried, they only dropped him twice and neither time was on his head!

Of course it did take them thirty minutes to get back to their house, but without those breaks every two to three minutes they might have all been dead.

“Let’s put him on my bed,” Lucy said on a gasp. It’d be a wonder if she didn’t collapse any moment.

Seth grunted as he helped heft the chunk of lead shaped like a human up onto her bed.

When the man was secure on top of her mattress, mother and son exchanged a quick look before Lucy gave her son orders to go fetch a basin of water and an unused sheet from the hall.