My Fallen Angel (21 page)

He reached out and grabbed her hand. She tried to tug it back but she didn’t have the strength.

“Lucy, listen to me. There were reasons why I said what I said. Reasons I can’t explain to you. But I do loveyou.” He swallowed. “I think we were meant to love each other, only I didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. Please, please forgive me for what I did.”

He grew silent. Lucy refused to look at him, even though every fiber of her being cried out at her to do so. But no. She would not be swayed by his pretty speech. Would not be convinced by the false sorrow in his eyes. He’d hurt her. Never would she forgive him. Never.

Wetness dropped onto her hand. She felt it trickle down her palm.

Still, she refused to open her eyes.

Another drop followed. What was that? Had the roof sprung a leak? She opened her eyes. No. It wasn’t the roof.

Slowly, she turned her head, though the motion set pain pounding into her skull. Her eyes fixed on Garrick. Her breath caught. Held.

Garrick her pirate lord, her warrior, her fearless protector, cried.

Cried.

“Oh, Garrick,” she found herself saying weakly, “don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

The words, so completely untrue, made her want to smile. Slowly her anger began to dribble away, melted by the warmth of his tears. “Liar,” she breathed softly.

He blinked, moisture gathering on his lashes. “I know.”

And then she did smile, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. It cost her to do so. Her head felt as if it would explode, but she felt better for it.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

His eyes were filled with so much longing, so much guilt, Lucy was unable to stop matching tears from rising in her own eyes. She nodded, ignoring the pain in her head, which was easy due to the joy in her heart.

When he observed the motion, his expression changed dramatically. Gone was the uncertainty, gone was the guilt. In its place was a look of so much hope and wonder, Lucy felt her chest tighten with tenderness. Her throat burned, and the tears she’d held back begged for release.

He tilted his head at her, and for the longest moment all he did was stare at her, his eyes filled with awe. “I love you.”

She blinked, her smile spreading. “I know.”

He released her hand, then caressed her face, wiping at the tears that had managed to escape despite her best efforts. The gesture was tender and reverent, and his eyes so … so worshiping.

And finally the tears came, the horror of the last twenty-four hours causing her to break down in sobs. She hardly noticed when he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms. All she felt was the warmth of his body as he pressed it against hers.

It was a long while later before he slowly drew back, but she almost started crying all over again at the look in his eyes.

It was one she’d never seen before.

It was the look of a man who’d come home.

It was twenty-four hours later that Lucy found herself standing on the elegant brick porch of her Aunt Cornelia’s town home.

“It’s locked,” she said, trying the door.

Beth, looking as nervous as a kitten in a room full of dogs said, “Use the knocker,” the tremor in her voice clearly evident, her movements agitated as she smoothed her wrinkled gown.

“’An ‘urry,” Tom urged. “Me balls be freezin’ out ‘ere.”

“Tom!” Beth admonished. Garrick snorted. Lucy turned. He gave her a smile, a smile that touched her with … what? She wasn’t sure, but her heart melted anyway, her earlier pique over being forced to temporarily leave Prinny aboard Tully’s appropriated ship fading. Garrick would relent about the bird, though she had no idea why he’d taken such a sudden dislike to her pet.

“Ahem,” Beth coughed, snapping her back to the present.

Lucy blushed before turning back to the door. A few moments later it was opened by a harried-looking Lambert.

“Good morning,” Lucy said brightly.

“Miss Hartford,” he said in shock. His gray eyes were as wide as teacup saucers. Those eyes only grew more wide as he stared at the four of them.

“May we come in?”

“Oh. Ah yes, Miss Hartford. Of course.” He moved aside. The group piled into the hall.

“Lucy?” an incredulous voice asked.

Every thought fled from Lucy’s mind at the sound of that very familiar and very dear voice. She looked toward the landing above her.

“Salena!” Tom cried.

Salena stared down at them, her face slowly filling with amazement. Then she was a flurry of movement as she descended the stairs, the blonde curls atop her head bobbing up and down, one hand clutching her mustard-colored skirts, the other the polished rail. When she stepped into the foyer she threw her arms open wide.

Pandemonium erupted, Tom giving out a glad cry as he was enfolded in her arms, everyone speaking at once. Beth hurled questions about her parents at the same time Lucy asked about her aunt.

It was Garrick who put an end to it all by letting loose an ear-piercing whistle.

“Garrick,” Lucy chastised, uncovering her ears.

“Please,” he said firmly. “I think it would be best if one person spoke at a time.”

Lucy nodded, turning back to her friend. “Where’s my aunt?” she asked anxiously.

“Lucy, good heavens,” Salena said, giving her a hug. “She’s asleep, though I’d wager she’s awake now.”

As her friend drew back, Lucy grasped her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Salena, it’s so good to see you. Whatever are you doing here?”

“I’ve been keeping your aunt company while we waited for
you
to return. Good heavens, Lucy, where have you been? We’ve all been so very worried about you. All of London thinks you’ve been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped! By who?”

“The marquis.”

“Garrick? Good gracious,” Lucy protested. “Wherever did they get such a silly notion?”

“I never thought such a thing,” Salena was quick to point out. “Nor did your aunt, not really. ‘Twas more believable that
you’d
kidnapped him.” She looked at Garrick, a smile spreading across her face. “My lord, ‘tis good to see you again.”

Garrick nodded. “Your Grace.”

“Salena,” Lucy said in amusement, “really. I would never kid—”

“So you’ve decided to return?”

Lucy stiffened. There was no mistaking that voice, nor the displeasure in it. She peeked toward the landing above and nearly groaned. Her aunt glared down at them like a curate on Easter morning. “Aunt Cornelia.”

Grabbing her black skirt, her aunt took a controlled step toward them, the cane she used thumping nearly as loudly as Lucy’s heart as she made her way down the steps. Her mobcap rested slightly off-center—no doubt due to her hasty dressing—and long ribbons of gray hairprotested from beneath it. For just for a moment the burning anger Lucy could see glowing from her eyes faded into joy, but then the anger returned full force.

“Lucy Hartford,” she said sharply. “This had better be good.”

It was. At least Lucy thought it was. Unfortunately her aunt didn’t look suitably impressed. She stared across at them as a magistrate might at an uncooperative witness. “You mean to tell me there was no possible way you could turn around?”

Lucy shrugged, her elbow bumping into Garrick, who sat next to her. “We tried, Auntie, but by the wind—”

“We ran into a storm which made turning back impossible,” Garrick finished. “By the time we’d sailed through it, we decided to continue on.”

Cornelia’s eyes narrowed. “Did it never occur to you, my lord, that my niece and Lady Elizabeth would be ruined by not turning back?”

Beth and Lucy exchanged anxious glances as Garrick answered, “It did.”

“And still you pressed on?”

“We did, my lady. You see, Lucy and I had decided to marry.” That wasn’t quite how it had happened, but Lucy wasn’t about to complain; at last her aunt finally looked at them with something other than displeasure. Now she stared at them in shock.

“Marry!” she gaped, staring between the two as if they’d suddenly announced their intention to sail to

France in a bathing tub. “But you hardly know each other.”

“Time means nothing when you’re in love,” Lucy sighed dreamily.

Her aunt’s eyes widened. “You’re in love?”

Garrick’s expression was unfathomable as he answered, “We are.”

Cornelia grew silent. She looked about to say something, but then her expression closed. “Well, I suppose you are to be congratulated. I must say ‘twill be a relief to get the gel off my hands—”

“Auntie!” Lucy cried.

“Heaven knows that takes care of one problem. Perhaps my niece’s marriage will be enough to save Beth’s reputation, too, though I have my doubts.”

Lucy caught Salena’s amused expression, then darted a glance at Beth, who looked pensive. “Are we terribly ruined, then?” Beth asked in a small voice.

“Terribly,” Cornelia announced sternly. “I don’t suppose there was a married lady on board who could have acted as chaperone?”

“No,” Lucy answered.

“A maid?”

“No,” Lucy said again.

“Anybody?”
he aunt said desperately.

“Ravenwood,” Beth moaned. “Dear God, what happens when they catch wind of Ravenwood being aboard?”

“Ravenwood?” Cornelia asked. “The
Duke
of Ravenwood?”

“Aye,” Garrick murmured.

“Good heavens,” Cornelia said, wilting back in her chair. “What was
he
doing on board the ship?”

“We took him hostage,” Lucy provided promptly.

“Hostage!” Cornelia trilled, sitting back up again.

“Lucy, please,” Garrick said. “Let me explain.” He turned to her aunt. “We’d only been at sea for a few days when we were attacked by pirates—”

“Pirates!”

Her aunt was dipping up and down like a duck on water, Lucy thought disgruntledly.

“It turned out that the pirates were hired by an agent for the countess,” Garrick continued. “The Duke of Ravenwood.”

“Good heavens.”

“Fortunately, we were able to escape from their clutches, taking Ravenwood as our hostage. Unfortunately, he escaped when we docked in London. We have no idea how, but his escape leaves me with no other choice than to go to Selborne in the hopes of confronting the earl and his countess with what I know. ‘Tis the best I can do after having lost Ravenwood.”

“Ravenwood. That fiend,” Salena shot. “I hope the magistrate catches up with him.”

“As do I,” Lucy affirmed.

“When will you leave, my lord?” Salena asked, shooting Tom, who sat next to her, a glance.

The boy had been awfully quiet from his position upon the settee, Lucy thought. That worried her, for she knew from experience it meant he was plotting something. This time she couldn’t imagine what.

“I shall leave tonight.”

“And I will go along.” Lucy said firmly, pulling her gaze away from Tom.

“Absolutely not,” Garrick said at the same time her aunt said, “No.”

Lucy stared between them, amusement bubbling up inside of her. “Why not?”

“Lucinda Hartford, good heavens, I refuse to let you out of this house until your reputation is somewhat salvaged. Besides, it would be just your luck to get yourself kidnapped before I could marry you off to his lordship.”

Lucy’s smile faded. “But, Aunt—”

“No buts. You are not going with his lordship and that’s final.”

Lucy wanted to protest, but it was glaringly obvious she would get nowhere with her aunt in her present frame of mind. Not only that, but Garrick was acting as if he’d suddenly lost his hearing.

“Very well, Aunt Cornelia,” she said as meekly as she dared, though she had no intention of staying behind. She shot Garrick a glare, which he ignored, then, left with nothing else to do, she got up and crossed to Beth’s side. Her friend looked about as happy as a lead player in a Shakespearean tragedy.

“Don’t worry, Beth,” she whispered, “I’ll see to it that matters are taken care of.”

Beth raised dazed eyes to her. “’Tis what I’m afraid of.”

Lucy heard her aunt snort. She darted her a frown, then patted Beth’s hand.

She was about to turn away when Beth’s words stopped her. “What if I’m forced to marry Ravenwood?”

“Beth, really. No one would force you to do that,” Salena said kindly.

“But if word reaches society that he was on board that ship, we may be forced to wed.”

“Nonsense,” Lucy said earnestly. “We’ll tell people Garrick and I were married aboard the
Revenger.
No one need ever know the truth.”

“It won’t work, Lucy, and you know it. All anyone has to do is ask a member of the crew. Once
you
marry Garrick, that only leaves Ravenwood. People will naturally assume the worst, that I was compromised by him, murderer or no.”

Beth looked so glum, Lucy found herself saying,
“You
can marry Garrick if you like.” She was trying to cheer her up, but it fell terribly flat. Beth looked up at her in horror, then flung herself to her feet and ran from the room.

“He’s not that bad,” Lucy called after her.

“Lucy, really,” her aunt admonished when the door had slammed shut. “How could you be so unfeeling? This is a serious matter.”

“But I was only joking, Auntie. Come now, you don’t honestly think she’d be forced to marry Ravenwood, do you?”

“Well, I should hope not. In any event, the sooner you wed his lordship, the better off she’ll be. When do you plan to do so?”

“After we confront the countess,” Garrick announced.

“Why not sooner?” Salena asked.

“We would like to, but we’re afraid Ravenwood will tell the countess of our arrival. When that happens she’llbe quite desperate to get her hands on Tom. Everyone’s life will be in danger then.”

Salena grabbed Tom’s hand, her face having paled. She darted the boy a tentative smile, then said, “Yes. Of course, you’re correct. Very well, then. I suppose there’s not much else to do but wait.”

Garrick nodded, then got up and walked over to Lucy. “Do you promise to stay here?”

Lucy sneaked a glance at her aunt’s frowning countenance, then smiled up at him mischievously. “And if I do not promise?”

“Then I shall lock you in your room.”

She laughed softly, completely oblivious to the room’s other occupants. “A dire threat indeed. I shall have to consider this carefully.”

He grabbed her hand, his expression turning serious. “Lucy, please. Stay here with your aunt. ‘Twill be much safer.”

Lucy firmly shoved aside the sense of guilt which assailed her as she said, “I promise.” Clenching her hand behind her back and crossing her fingers, and beneath her slippers, her toes.

“Promise also that you will not leave before me.”

She made her expression was as innocent as possible and said, “I promise.”

He searched her eyes carefully and whatever it was he saw must have satisfied him, for he chucked her on the chin and said, “Thank you.”