Time After Time (138 page)

Sammy blanched. “I can’t do that milord.”

His patience was gone. “What the devil is the matter with you? Is your burned hand still paining you? You should tell her ladyship the balm she gave you isn’t working. I’m sure she’ll be able to make you a better one. She’s good at that sort of thing, you know.”

“I can’t do that milord,” Sammy repeated.

He tamped down the urge to shake the smaller man. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t know where her ladyship is.”

The uneasiness in his chest drummed a throbbing beat in his temples. “She isn’t upstairs?”

Sammy shook his head as words tumbled out of his mouth in a torrent of explanation and apology. “No, milord. Her maid doesn’t know where she is either. That’s why Finchley is gone. He’s looking for her.”

“And none of you thought to alert me of this fact?” he asked in a dangerously soft voice.

“Finchley said he’d be able to find her before you realized she was gone, milord,” Sammy explained.

Before he realized she was
gone
? Did Sammy think Penelope had left him?

“Where’s Nelson?” he demanded.

Sammy looked ill. “Her ladyship’s dog is gone, too, milord.”

Dear God, Penelope had left him.

She wouldn’t have taken Nelson with her if she’d only intended to go for a jaunt in the park. She’d actually walked out of the house and
left
him. His uneasiness gave in to rage. How dare she leave him? She was his wife! They had a bargain. The thought propelled him from his chair and straight into the hall, where Olivia was pacing.

“Lucas!” Olivia exclaimed. “We hoped Finchley would find Penelope before you noticed she was gone, but he’s been away for hours and there hasn’t been any news.”

He ran upstairs with Olivia on his heels and headed for Penelope’s bedchamber. Her empty bedchamber. He prowled the room like a caged brute, searching for signs of where she might have gone, ignoring the sudden rawness in his throat that threatened to strangle him. Because he knew exactly why she’d left.

“She’s not here, Lucas,” Olivia whispered.

He whirled to face his sister. “Get out,” he choked out.

Olivia backed away. “What are you going to do?”

Lucas raked a hand through his hair. “She couldn’t have gone far, and she will have a lot of explaining to do when I find her. Tell Sammy to have my horse brought round.”

Olivia flew downstairs to do as he’d bidden, and he sank onto Penelope’s bed. Her floral scent lingered in the room, and he closed his eyes as rage roiled inside him once more.

He would find her, he promised himself in an attempt to calm the rioting flare of emotions in him. There were only a few places she could have gone. He would find her, he told himself again and again as he tried to hang on to his feeling of outrage at her abandonment. He would find her. The words became a chant, the only outcome he was willing to dwell on as he stormed out of the room and out of the house to ride into the suddenly bleak night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The hired coach jerked sharply on a deep rut and Penelope winced, rubbing her aching bottom. To say the hackney didn’t have comfortable seats was an understatement — it had nothing but two very thinly padded wooden boards with numerous holes in random places designed for a person’s weight to roll into.

She glanced at Finchley, who was holding himself rigidly straight on the opposite seat. He’d given his glove for Nelson to chew so the dog would keep calm on the long road journey.

“I’m sorry you had to endure this, Finchley, but I couldn’t let you go back to Lucas and tell him where I’m going,” she said with a hint of contrition.

“It’s of no import now, my lady,” the butler replied with his usual hauteur despite the fact that she’d effectively kidnapped him when she noticed him following her on the way out of the livery stable. “’Tis my duty to keep you safe, and may I be so bold to say I arrived just in time. The coach driver back in the livery stable would have taken dreadful advantage of you.”

“I was merely bargaining for price with him. I didn’t think he might have another type of payment in mind. In any case,” she added with a small smile, “I am exceedingly grateful to you for coming to my aid and finding us a better coach to hire.”

Finchley gave a sigh and patted Nelson’s satiny head. “Is there any hope of stopping at an inn somewhere, my lady? I’m certain Nelson needs to eat,” he said hopefully.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I bought some food at the last coaching inn. There is no need to stop until we reach our destination.”

“I assure you, my lady, I will not send a message to his lordship,” Finchley said in a hurt tone. “It might not be my place to say, but the staff has been aware of the, ah, troubles between you and his lordship of the past weeks. His lordship will find you, my lady, and he will not be pleased.”

She gave Nelson a piece of sausage. “I’m not interested in pleasing his lordship,” she snapped.

She noticed both Finchley and Nelson looking at her despondently, and her heart filled with guilt. She probably should have left Nelson with Lucas. Lord knows the poor thing would’ve been more comfortable there, but if she’d left her dog, then she would have had a reason to go back. Both her pride and heart were wounded, but she knew through experience that all wounds, whether emotional or physical, healed with time and care. She couldn’t risk giving herself an excuse to go back to Lucas, not when he’d been clear about his intentions at the meeting. Going back would only make her emotional wounds fester until they infected her soul.

Cowardly as it might have been to run away, it had been her only alternative.

“Forgive me, Nelson,” she whispered, her heart wrenching at the sight of her loyal companion struggling to keep his balance in the rickety coach.

“How much longer are we to endure this equipage, my lady?” Finchley asked as another rut in the road sent all three of them jumping and wincing at the same time.

She hesitated, debating whether or not to tell the butler where they were going before they’d actually arrived at their destination. “Not much longer.”

“You are not even going to tell me where we are headed?”

Penelope sighed. She might as well tell him, or he’d plague her for the rest of the journey. “We’re going home,” she announced.

Then she handed Finchley a plate of cold meats, forcing both of them to try to juggle their food and eat in silence.

• • •

Penelope’s hometown hadn’t changed at all since Lucas had first stepped foot in it.

The familiar sight of rolling, sun-kissed fields greeted him as he made his way up the valley to Highfield Manor. Two months ago, he’d journeyed here to fetch a long-forgotten fiancée. Now he was here to claim an errant wife.

A vision of Penelope opening the front door of the manor and flying into his arms lifted his weary spirit before he reminded himself that he was angry with her for her impulsive behavior. Because of her exaggerated fit of the sulks, he had been obliged to travel nearly the entire length of the country. He was dirty, tired and most annoyed. He had a good mind to make her beg him to take her back after this outrageous stunt.

Except it wasn’t Penelope who opened the door as he approached the manor, but Gertie. His heart sank.

Gertie eagerly greeted him as he dismounted, and the entire Walker family stepped out of the manor.

“You’re back!” Dr. Walker declared the obvious as he shook Lucas’s hand before peering over his shoulder expectantly. “Where’s Polly? Is she resting back at the inn? You shouldn’t have gone to The Mucky Duck, you know. You’re always welcome here.”

Eleanor Walker motioned for everyone to go inside. “Please come in, we’ll make sure your horse is cared for.”

He struggled to contain his emotions as he followed the family to the library and tried to come up with a story of why she wasn’t with him. “Penelope couldn’t make the journey up, but she sent me here to claim any items she wasn’t able to bring with her after the wedding.”

Disappointment settled in his chest. He’d been so sure Penelope would be here. Before journeying north, he’d checked with Miss Smythe, who appeared to be embarrassed about their last encounter but unaware of Penelope’s disappearance. He also paid Penelope’s cousin a visit, but David Maitland seemed equally unaware that Penelope was missing. He had even attended another meeting with Colonel Martin and his friends, but none of them seemed to find Penelope’s absence out of the ordinary.

Now that he knew Penelope wasn’t with her family either, his annoyance with her drained out, replaced by something even worse: fear.

Penelope wasn’t merely indulging in a fit of the sulks. She’d actually severed all connections with him and could be anywhere in the country. Anywhere in the world. With no one to protect her. Where thieves, highwaymen and all sorts of villains could get to her.

“I’m quite certain Polly has taken all of her things. How long will you be staying?” Dr. Walker’s voice seemed to come from somewhere very far away, and he had to shake his head to clear it in order to hear the rest of the man’s words. “Polly isn’t pregnant, is she? Is that why she couldn’t make the journey up?”

Good God, what if she’s pregnant?
Bile rose up in his throat at the thought of Penelope somewhere out there, cold and alone, pregnant with his child.

“No,” he whispered, his throat raw. “At least, I don’t think she is. She hasn’t told me anything. I’m not sure — ”

“All right,” Dr. Walker interrupted. “So how long are you going to be staying?”

Lucas stared at the man who had raised Penelope, unable to admit he had misplaced Dr. Walker’s stepdaughter.

“I’m only staying long enough for my horse to rest. There are things I must see to in London,” he replied.

Dr. Walker inclined his head. “Ah, then at least have some tea with us and give us news of how London is treating our daughter. She said in her last letter that she’s met Colonel Martin.”

Needing to keep Penelope close to him in any way he could, he talked about Colonel Martin and the Season, going into details about things she’d said and the people she’d helped. He even told them about Nelson’s state of health. He talked until his throat was dry, trying to delay the moment when he would have to leave the people closest to his wife’s heart.

When he was certain his horse was fully rested, Lucas made his excuses to the Walkers and started on the weeklong journey back to London, where he immediately began making inquiries of the servants.

He drilled everyone from the gardeners to the housekeeper about the events of that day, but the only thing they could say was that Penelope must have used the servants’ staircase to get out of the house, and so no one had noticed she was gone until too late. None of them knew where she might have gone.

He spent several days making discreet inquiries at the local coaching inns, but none of them had any recollection of seeing a woman matching Penelope’s description. He’d been able to trace the livery stable where she’d rented a coach, but from there the trail had gone cold.

Three weeks after Penelope had left, exhausted and in need of sleep, Lucas went back to his townhouse and paced a track in the carpet in his study while a pain beyond anything he’d ever known gnawed at him. There wasn’t much hope Penelope would ever come back to him. He was staring into the fire, contemplating what he was to do next when a commotion out in the hall drew his attention.

“I told you, his lordship isn’t at home to visitors at present!” he heard Sammy yell.

“And I told you,” a voice that could only belong to Lord Maitland replied, “I shall wait as long as it takes for him to see me. This nonsense has gone on long enough!”

He stalked to the door and yanked it open to find Lord Maitland and Ethan Banks swatting at Sammy while the footman tried to push them out of the house.

“It’s all right, Sammy, let them in,” he intoned.

The last thing he wanted was to deal with the baron, but the man might have some information as to where Penelope was.

“So,” Lord Maitland began as he stalked past Lucas inside the study, “where have you hidden her? My man Banks over here,” he gestured, “has not seen my niece for some time. I have had enough of your antics, Ravenstone. Where is my niece?”

The baron didn’t know where Penelope was. Anger simmered as he gazed at the man who had caused both him and Penelope so much pain.

“Why should I tell you?” he demanded. “And why have you been spying on my wife? What do you want from her?”

Lord Maitland looked genuinely surprised. “I would’ve thought that of all people, you would understand. We are the same, after all.”

“I am nothing like you!” Lucas hissed.

The baron smiled coldly. “Ah, there’s no reason to deny it, dear boy, for I know the truth behind your reason for marrying my niece. You are like me, prepared to do anything for what is right, for our duty to our legacy. Your father never understood that, and neither did my brother. But you and I, we are the same.”

He felt the blood leave his face as he stared at the baron, a man who had cast his own flesh and blood away to preserve the dignity of a title.
Dear God, am I just as bad?

Penelope had waited for him all these years when he had all but forgotten her. Still, she’d restored his reputation, given him her trust, loyalty and love. In return, he’d used her to keep his fortune and deceived her about it. He’d never considered how his actions might have affected her life, he’d thought only of his duty to his earldom. All she’d ever wanted was for him to love her and he’d told her he was incapable of doing even that.

And in that moment, he knew.

He loved Penelope, had probably loved her all along. It certainly explained all his actions since he’d met her and accounted for the pain that slashed through him at the thought of never seeing her again. Self-loathing coursed in his veins. In his stubbornness and arrogant sense of entitlement, Lucas had driven away the most precious thing in his life.

Regret threatened to choke him as he returned Lord Maitland’s gaze.

“I am nothing like you,” he repeated. “I’m not going to let you use Penelope any longer. If you want to talk to her, you had better do it through your son.”