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They all stared at Augusta.
“Something about… Colonel Lennox. She’s gone to speak with him.”
Charlotte turned to see the blood drain from Mr. Colbourne’s face just before he flew out of the hallway, pausing in his study to grab his frock coat. He ran through the drawing room door into the garden, and charged towards the stables. She paused long enough to give Augusta a reassuring look, briefly pressing Mrs. Wheatley’s hand before racing through the house and out the door after him.
“Mr. Colbourne! Mr. Colbourne, wait!”
“There is no time to wait. I will return as soon as I find her.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, Miss Heywood. This whole shameful affair is my own doing, and I must try to mend it. Watkins!”
The head groom’s face popped up from one of the stables as the master of the house grabbed Hannibal’s saddle. “I have to ride out. Now. Please help me prepare Hannibal.”
“Sir.” Watkins grabbed the tack from the wall and went to work.
“Mr. Colbourne! I must come with you. I am partly responsible.”
“The only one responsible for this misery is me.” He didn’t pause in his work as he muttered, “Me. Always me.”
“No, sir. We are both responsible. We both said—” She remembered the groom next to her. “I can be of use. Mr. Watkins, will you please saddle a horse for me?”
The groom paused momentarily to watch the exchange, waiting for instructions from the master.
“Miss Heywood, I have no idea where Lucy’s side saddle is, or if it even—”
“I’m quite comfortable riding astride, Mr. Colbourne. Please.” She moved closer to him, his intoxicating proximity rippling through her core. “You are distraught. I can be useful. She’s upset. She trusts me.”
“And she will no longer trust me. That is what you are too polite to say, Miss Heywood.”
“No, please do not put words in my mouth. But…” She glanced at Watkins to let her employer know she chose her words carefully. The groom’s eyes dropped quickly back to the task at hand. “You are connected to her current… woes… I may be in a position to help. Please, sir. Do not leave me out.” He froze, his head swiveling to meet her gaze. “I care about her too, and I care about… all of you.”
His breath hitched as his eyes searched hers, the memory of their searing kiss still potent on his lips. He swallowed. “Very well. Watkins, I’ll finish Hannibal. Please saddle Zephyr.”
They worked in silence, Charlotte assisting Watkins in preparing the tack. The groom looked at the young woman with some concern. “He’s calm for a stallion, Miss Heywood, but he’ll require a fairly firm hand.”
“I’m quite sure we’ll get along fine, Mr. Watkins. Would you mind…” She indicated the mounting block.
Alexander started to come around to help her mount, but Watkins had already grabbed the mounting block and set it to Zephyr’s side. Just as well, he thought, as the groom steadied the horse for her. The thought of touching her again sent uncontrollable waves of longing through his whole being – specifically to places he had no time to consider at present. However, he couldn’t resist a glance in her direction as her stockinged leg came into clear view. Quickly turning away, he hoisted himself onto Hannibal. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“We’ll cut across the pasture… then the open meadow. From there we’ll go through the woods. It will slow us down a bit, but it’s faster than going around the inland side of the property, and more than likely it’s the route she took, so we have a better chance of overtaking her if– in case she’s…” he swallowed. “In case we catch up to her. From there we’ll take the cliff path. It will be faster.”
“Is the pasture safe?”
“Safe enough for a canter to warm the horses up. I know a route with only one pasture gate before the meadow.”
He took off at a brisk canter, eyeing Charlotte to be sure she was secure as he assessed the ground ahead of them.
There was no talking as they sped through the pasture. Zephyr was responsive and easy under her, but she hadn’t ridden for some time, so she was focused and attentive to her mount. After demanding to come, she couldn’t afford to slow him down. She glanced to her right, where Alexander’s face was set, taut, and focused.
She ran through their conversation from the night before in her mind. What had Leo heard, exactly?
Only to find she was with child.
His child?
He had abandoned her.
Pains you to be in Leo’s company.
She’s a living reminder.
How much had she heard? How much would she understand? And how were they to help her?
She realized with a start she was thinking of them as partners in this. A family. What will we do – she and Mr.— she and Alexander. We. Despite the horror of their predicament, her whole being smiled at the thrill of saying his name, even in her mind.
They slowed as they approached the pasture gate. He glanced at her and cautioned, “Once we’re past this, we’ll need to ride harder.”
He dismounted and raced forward to open it, motioning her through. He quickly closed it behind them as she pulled her bonnet off, securing the hatpins back onto it. He looked at her questioningly as he remounted. “I’ll not lose this to the wind. It’s my only everyday bonnet. But I’ll ride faster without it.”
She quickly looped the ribbons through Zephyr’s saddle straps and tied it securely to the pommel, freeing her hands. “Good thinking,” he praised as he took the opportunity to smile at her again. “We’ll ride hard now across the meadow. My only worry is whether she would have gone through town or stayed on the outskirts. Town would be shorter and save her time. The camp is at least five miles away, probably a bit more. It’s a long walk on little legs.”
“True… but she wouldn’t want to be seen or questioned. And you know Leo. She would see this as a grand, secret mission. I think she’ll keep to the shadows.”
“I believe you are right, Miss Heywood. Which should come as no surprise.” He smiled at her again, and she felt herself warmed by his praise as a flush spread across her cheeks.
They tore off across the open meadow, eyes on the woods in the distance. Despite the tense circumstances, Charlotte could not help but glory in the chance to ride alongside him. She watched his proud bearing on the magnificent stallion. His straight posture, the grip of his leg on Hannibal’s flank. The gentle, elegant glide of his hands on the reins. The memory of the same hands cradling her face, her back, her waist… How she longed for him to do that again… and again, and again… She tore her eyes from him and took a steadying breath, internally squirming against the pull of her center to his. What on earth was happening to her?
As the woods drew close, Alexander slowed Hannibal, and Zephyr followed suit. They entered the woodlands at a brisk walk, their breathing as heavy as the horses’ as she pulled alongside him on the shady path into the trees. He gave her a tight smile. “We’ll have to slow down for a few minutes, but the horses need to breathe anyway, and this is still faster than the inland route.”
“We are making good time.”
He nodded in silence, eyes fixed ahead of him, looking for obstacles in the path, low-hanging branches, or any other impediment. But she knew his mind was gripped with self-recrimination and fear of what they would find. She felt it necessary to draw his focus to more productive plans.
“Mr. Colbourne…” He started and turned to her as if surprised to find her there.
“I apologize, Miss Heywood. I was thinking… What will I say to her? To a child’s mind… I have been lying to her when I constantly admonish her that there is no excuse for lies. How will I…” he swallowed and looked ahead again, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. Then he whispered, “Should I have told her?”
“No. No, absolutely not. She is not yet nine years old. She can have no understanding of her situation. It would cause her undue pain to no purpose. You weren’t to know the horrible man would enter your lives again. I do believe you must tell her eventually—”
“I fully intend to.”
“But not yet. You were right, sir. I do believe that with all my heart.”
“Thank you, Miss Heywood.”
“She adores you, Mr. Colbourne.”
“Perhaps she did…”
“She will still. I know it. And we may yet arrive in time.”
“And if we do not?”
She tilted her head side to side in thought. “Then our job will be more difficult. But nonetheless, I believe, with love and patience, all may be well again.”
“Our job?”
She looked at him in horror, realizing the implication of her words. “I do apologize, sir. I did not mean—”
“Do not apologize. I am only…” he took a steadying breath. “I am only pondering the idea of sharing such responsibility.”
“Are you?”
“I am, Miss Heywood.”
They rode in silence for a few moments, her heart in her throat.
She dared ask another question. “Does he know? Lennox?”
“I… do not know for certain. I think not. When I…” He shook his head, again struggling to believe that he was confiding so much. But he couldn’t seem to stop. He needed her. Needed this woman. Her understanding and her support, yes. Her lips and her hands and her breath and her body trembling in his arms. God, yes. But also, her sharp mind and intuitive understanding of his daughter. His daughter… Dear God, please…
He huffed out a breath and started again. “When I went to London to retrieve Lucy, she was distraught, largely, I believe, because Lennox had abandoned her. Whether he knew about the baby before he made that gallant move or not, I cannot tell you. And once she was home we did not speak of it. We barely spoke at all, except when I…” He dropped his gaze and shook his head.
“We talked of that last night. I cannot see that your reaction was at all out of the scope of what any man would feel in such a situation. So, if Leo asks the Colonel… it may be a surprise to him?”
“I expect it will, yes.”
She nodded, pondering the implications.
“Miss Heywood, what will I do if… what if he wants to take her away from me?” The plea was barely audible. A strangled whisper.
“I am no lawyer, and I do not know one…”
He looked away with an expression she could not read.
“However, I highly doubt that the Colonel will have any interest in fatherhood. He fancies himself a great military hero and obviously thinks he is quite the ladies’ man.” He saw her unconsciously rub her wrist where he assumed a bruise was still healing under her glove. “I expect he may deny it.”
“But the opportunity to inflict another wound on me will prove irresistible, I fear.”
“Let us hope his self-preservation prevails. Remember, it will do his reputation no good if this all comes out. His conduct has been reprehensible. While military heroes are afforded an absurd breadth of behavior without any negative consequences to their so-called honor, suddenly claiming a daughter who is known in this community would be utterly scandalous and would cause him nearly as much harm as it would you and Leo. I doubt he’ll take it on.”
“And he is devoid of any tender feeling which might induce him to care for her.”
She looked at him in sympathy. “That is true.”
“Yet, what have I done for her, Miss Heywood? I have barely allowed her in my presence!”
“You kept her. You gave her a home and your name and safety and as much love as you were able to give. And whatever mistakes you have made, she loves you. Adores you. And now you will be able to give her more of yourself because you are ready to fully love her in return.”
He wanted so much to believe her. But his mind kept circling back to every mistake, every misstep. “That she would go to him and not to me… It is my own fault, Miss Heywood. You cannot deny it. I have pushed her away so many times, and now I fear…” His face was in a contortion of pain. “… this will be my punishment. To know the bottomless regret of losing her.”
Her heart ached for him. “Please, Mr. Colbourne, do not despair.”
“I should have protected her better. Been more open. Shown her more love.”
“We cannot always control how others perceive us, or the way things unfold, even when we believe we have done everything right. And none of us can do everything right all the time.”
“No, we cannot. But that doesn’t make me any less accountable.”
She threw propriety to the side and reached across to put her right hand over his left forearm as he held Hannibal’s reins. He looked at her, startled and hopeful. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before he covered her hand with his right hand, careful not to trouble the bruise that still pained her from Lennox’s grip. “Thank you for your kindness, Miss Heywood. It means more to me than I can say. We are approaching the cliff path. We can open up again and make up time.”
She reluctantly pulled her hand back and set her sights straight ahead as the woods opened up to the sunny cliff path. Alexander leaned slightly forward in the saddle, pressed his legs into Hannibal’s sides, and clucked softly. The stallion took off, meeting his master’s command effortlessly.
“Come on, Zephyr,” crooned Charlotte as she followed suit. “Let’s go, boy!”
They picked up speed across the cliff path above the town as it blended into the open field leading to the soldiers’ camp.
“Are you well, Miss Heywood?” Alexander yelled over the wind in their faces.
“Perfectly well, Mr. Colbourne.”
They slowed over an uneven hill leading into camp. Charlotte dared a look at her frantic employer, needing to convey her feelings, but wary of pushing him too far. “In my experience, even when something… unexpected happens… even when everything seems dire… life can change in a moment and make one feel… perhaps somewhat terrified, but also hopeful.”
He inhaled, fully understanding her double meaning. “Yes. Terror and hope. At times I do believe they are bedfellows. That is…” He reddened as he realized what he had said.
“I believe they are,” she smiled, rescuing him. “One often leads back to the other.”
“Miss Heywood, I—”
“Not now,” she said gently. “We must focus on Leo.”
“Yes, of course. But after…” He looked at her hopefully.
“Yes. After.” Her heart was at war with itself, soaring over the thought of the future that was beginning to unfold before her and constricted with fear for Leo.
The road flattened out as the camp came into view, and Alexander charged ahead, coming to a stop, leaping to the ground, and handing Hannibal’s reins to a soldier on the edge of camp. Charlotte had just tied her bonnet loosely back onto her head as he turned to lift her off of Zephyr’s back.
“Here, let me help you down.”
“Thank you,” she replied softly, catching her breath. He stepped up to Zephyr’s side placing one hand firmly behind her knee on the back of her thigh, and the other on her waist as she swung her right leg over the horse. His grip on her waist tightened as he turned her toward him and lowered her to the ground. She leaned into him, whether because she lost her balance or out of the same magnetic instinct that drew him to her, he could not say.
He knew he held her a moment too long, a fraction too tightly. She gazed up at him with those open, guileless doe eyes and blushed. To create such a response in her… it filled him with need and desire.
It was an instant that stopped time for both of them before they recovered at the same moment and turned to the soldier. “Colonel Lennox’s tent?” inquired Alexander.
“Straight ahead, sir.”
“Please hold the horses.”
“Of course, sir,” called the befuddled soldier as the couple ran across the camp.
Captain Frasier stepped out to meet them, but Alexander pushed straight past him as Charlotte followed him into the tent, hoping with her whole soul that God would show some mercy to this troubled family. Their hands brushed together for a fleeting moment as they both came to an abrupt stop at the scene before them. Leo, serious beyond her years, faced Lennox, her faded scarlet coat a tragic parody of the vermin who had sired her. And Lennox, shocked and uncharacteristically speechless.
She held her position beside Alexander, knowing that she loved him – and his daughter – with her whole heart. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.