Destined To Last Part 35

"Oh, right." Lizzy looked down and began fiddling with the edge of her ap.r.o.n. "A letter arrived from Lord Thurston to your mother an hour ago. Mr. Hunter has returned to London."

"I see," Kate said carefully. She knew Lizzy had spoken with Hunter about their shared past, but aside from that, neither had broached the subject of the real reason they'd left Pallton House.

The guilt she was experiencing grew. There had to be much more for Lizzy and Hunter to discuss than they could have in the short time they'd been given. And though Kate had encouraged Lizzy to stay behind with Mrs. Summers, Mirabelle, and Whit so she could further her friendship with Hunter, Lizzy had adamantly refused. Kate had no doubt that refusal stemmed from her loyalty to her friend and mistress.

"Would you like to go to London, Lizzy?"

"I wouldn't." She pulled a face. "Why should I want to go to London? You know I don't care for it there."

"Wouldn't you like to speak with Mr. Hunter again?"

"I'll speak with him next time he comes to Haldon Hall and..." Lizzy trailed off and winced. "I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't care to see him."

"It's not that I wouldn't care to see him, it's only..." Only that she wanted to see him so terribly that she hurt with it. She shook her head. "Never mind. If it's not Mr. Hunter you're troubled over, what is it?"

"It is Mr. Hunter, in a way." Lizzy bit her lip again. "It's what we spoke of. Well, part of what we spoke of. We didn't speak of it exclusively, or even a very great deal. He mentioned it almost in pa.s.sing, although he was quite clear-"

"What is it, Lizzy?"

"He offered to take care of me."

"Oh?"

Lizzy nodded. "A house of my own in Benton and a yearly allowance."

"I wondered if he would." She and Evie had planned to offer the same in a few years' time. "Will you accept?"

"I don't know. What he offered is...it's ridiculous, is what it is," Lizzy huffed. "He told me I could have Bethel Manor. Said he bought it a year ago with me in mind and-"

"Bethel Manor? Good heavens." The house and grounds were enormous. She and Evie couldn't afford anything quite that grand. They'd chosen a small cottage not far from the town square, and they'd had to borrow the money from Whit. "And a yearly allowance?"

"Five hundred pounds, plus salaries for staff."

"Five hundred pounds and Bethel Manor?" Kate felt a smile form. "You're richer than I am."

Lizzy's eyebrows winged up. "Am I really?"

"I don't have five hundred pounds a year and my own manor house, do I?"

"I don't have it as yet either." Brow furrowed, Lizzy walked to the bed to take a seat on the end of the mattress. "I don't know what to do. I've always been a lady's maid. I don't know how to be anything else."

"You've never been just a lady's maid," Kate replied, shifting in her seat to face the bed. "You're a friend. You always will be."

"It puts me in an awkward position, to be neither servant nor lady."

"Then be something else entirely," Kate suggested. "You could open a shop. A bookseller's shop. Oh, that would be lovely."

"Benton all ready has a bookseller's."

"Yes, but Mr. Kirkland caters to the gentlemen. And a town can never have too many booksellers." She smiled a little at Lizzy's pained expression. "Something else, then. A milliner's, a bakery, a blacksmith's if you like. Whatever it is that tickles your fancy."

"It's not to be a blacksmith," Lizzy said dryly. "Or live in a house as grand as Bethel Manor."

"Well, whatever it is, whatever you decide to do, you know you'll have the support of every Cole at Haldon."

A light blush bloomed on Lizzy's cheeks. "Thank you."

Afraid Lizzy was still hesitant to take Hunter's offer of a.s.sistance because of her, she added, "I should tell you though, that I'll be giving mine most grudgingly if you refuse what Hunter would give you. I don't fancy supporting you in your decision to be a twit."

"I suppose I'd have to be, to deny myself a windfall," Lizzy replied on a laugh. "Thank you. I want to put my mind to the matter a bit longer, but I feel better for having spoken with you."

"You're welcome."

Lizzy bobbed her head, then looked about the room for a moment. "I'll feel better for having said this too-Tisn't good for you to spend so much time in here."

"Yes, I know." She nudged the papers on her desk. Now that the symphony was done, she wasn't at all sure what to do with herself. Rising from her seat, she shoved the papers into the center of her desk and lifted the front lid to enclose her work inside. "I believe I'm done with composing for a while. Perhaps I'll go for a stroll."

She hesitated a moment, and then, before she could talk herself out of it, went to her vanity to retrieve the pocket watch Hunter had given her. A walk in the garden, she decided, might be just the thing to distract her from the heartache she no longer had a way to vent now that she'd finished the symphony.

After twenty minutes of meandering along the gravel paths without giving a single thought to the flowers, trees, and bushes around her, she was forced to admit that a walk in the garden was an entirely ineffectual means of distraction.

The pain was relentless. She feared it always would be. Though she knew time could heal a great many wounds, in that moment it seemed impossible that she should ever feel truly happy again. She needed Hunter too much. Loved him so deeply it made even the most poignant romances she'd read in her novels now seem hopelessly shallow. And she would, without doubt, always love him in the same way.

Not too many years ago, had she proclaimed to Evie and Mirabelle that such a love could exist, they would have teased her good-naturedly and informed her that she was being fanciful. And not too long ago, she would have laughed and admitted-if reluctantly-that they were right.

But she wasn't being fanciful now. She wasn't insisting she loved Hunter with every fiber of her being because she wished wished to love Hunter with every fiber of her being. At the moment, she'd have given nearly anything to feel less for him. How could she not, when he hadn't a fiber of love to spare for her? to love Hunter with every fiber of her being. At the moment, she'd have given nearly anything to feel less for him. How could she not, when he hadn't a fiber of love to spare for her?

Battling back tears, she stopped to sit on a stone bench, and reach into her pocket to pull out the watch. She traced the gold inlay with her thumb and felt the watch ticking, steady and sure, beneath her finger. For the life of her, she couldn't explain why she'd taken it out of her vanity. She wasn't using it to keep a consistent tempo of any music. She'd simply wanted it with her. She wanted to feel the steadiness.

That's what Hunter wanted too, she thought dully-steadiness, certainty, constancy. It was what he had gone without as a boy, and it was what he needed now.

She'd offered him a love that constant. She'd offered to beg beg, for pity's sake. She closed her eyes as a wave of humiliation washed over her. Oh, what had she been thinking?

That I love him.

That I'd do anything for him.

That I wanted him never to doubt either.

Surely he couldn't have doubted after that. Except...she had had left. She'd walked away as he'd stood there, watching her from the steps. She'd gone even after he asked her-albeit in a very roundabout sort of way-not to go. She'd left him, just as his aunt had, and Lizzy. left. She'd walked away as he'd stood there, watching her from the steps. She'd gone even after he asked her-albeit in a very roundabout sort of way-not to go. She'd left him, just as his aunt had, and Lizzy.

It was different, of course. He didn't love her as he'd loved his aunt and Lizzy. But it was the same, in that she was supposed to be someone who loved him, and she'd left.

"Oh, dear."

But what else could she have done-remained at Pallton House, pretending to enjoy the house party as if nothing was wrong? As if he'd not broken her heart? Besides, she'd only gone to Haldon, not Australia. He must have understood she was only going away a little and only because he'd hurt her.

She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous qualifications. A little? What difference did a little make? What difference did it make that her reason for going away was valid? She had still claimed to love him in one minute and left in the next. How was he to understand and trust that the love she offered was constant from behavior such as that?

She should have waited a little longer, should have taken the time to make certain he understood that she would always love him.

Perhaps she should explain herself in a letter. No, that would never do. She wasn't certain she could convey what she felt in a letter, and like as not, receiving a letter from her would only reiterate the fact that she was some distance away.

Perhaps she could speak with him when her mother took her to London for the Little Season. But that was months away. She couldn't possibly wait that long. Perhaps she should go to London sooner. Perhaps she should go tonight.

She bit her lip, calculating the risks and benefits of such an endeavor. London was only a short distance away. She could easily make the trip, speak with him, and be back at Haldon by morning. She'd wait until after midnight, and she'd take at least two footmen she could trust to keep her secret. Whit and Mirabelle hadn't yet left Pallton House, and her mother and Lizzy would be fast asleep by then. With any luck, she could get to London, speak with Hunter, and return to Haldon without any member of her family being the wiser.

There was the possibility that it would change nothing. Probably, it would result in a lecture about being impetuous. Without doubt, she wouldn't deserve one. She wasn't being impetuous, she decided and rose from her bench, she was taking a calculated risk.

CHAPTER Twenty-seven

Hunter eyed the wall beneath Kate's window and blew out a short breath.

One would think, given the woman's romantic nature, that she would have a trellis or the like about for her prince to clamber up-a balcony for him to climb onto at the very least. Or perhaps trellises and balconies were only for white knights and doomed lovers. Probably, princes were meant to use the front door. Very Very probably, princes were not meant to use the front door in the middle of the night. Which meant he would be climbing the wall. probably, princes were not meant to use the front door in the middle of the night. Which meant he would be climbing the wall.

No matter, he had more practice sneaking in and out of windows than most. In addition, the exterior walls of Haldon were made of uneven stone. It would be an easy thing for him to find handholds and footholds...relatively easy. He'd always been better at opening locked doors than crawling through windows.

He eyed the wall a little longer, blew out another short breath, and found a handhold. The climb, he soon discovered, was not quite as easy as it looked. The stone was chipped and jagged in places, and worn smooth in others, so that he alternated between feeling as if he were trying to scale a rosebush, and attempting to climb a waterfall.

By the time he was two-thirds of the way up, he was a little out of breath and a little put out with himself for not having thought to search out a ladder in the stable. Granted, scaling a ladder wouldn't be quite the romantic gesture that scaling a wall was, but Kate would probably have appreciated it more than finding him broken and b.l.o.o.d.y beneath her window. Then again, if she was very very angry with him... angry with him...

He pushed that thought aside and concentrated on navigating the remainder of the wall. When, at last, he reached the window, he breathed a sigh of relief to find it was not only unlocked, but wide open. He moved the drapes aside, slipped silently over the sill, straightened, and then, shocked by what he found, stood where he was, unable to move a muscle.

During the ride from London, he'd fantasized, countless times, about how his little escapade might play out. He imagined finding Kate sound asleep in her bed, the covers up to her chin and her pale blonde hair spread across the pillow. He'd envisioned stealing softly to her bed and kissing her awake. He'd imagined her lids fluttering open and the fog of sleep slowly clearing from her blue eyes.

But nowhere in his daydream had Kate been standing in the middle of her room dressed in cape, gloves, and bonnet, and staring at him as if he had two heads and a tail.

Likewise, his daydream had not contained any variation of the question, "Where the devil are you going?" But that was what came out of his mouth, because it was the middle of the d.a.m.n night. Where the devil was was she going? she going?

Her hand flew to her heart. "Hunter? What are you doing here? Has something happened? Miss Willory-?"

"No, no. We caught her and her contact. It's done. I..." She looked so beautiful. So perfectly beautiful standing in the stream of moonlight from the window. "I...Oh, h.e.l.l."

He crossed the room in three strides to pull her into his arms.

"I missed you," he whispered raggedly a second before he bent his head and kissed her, everywhere-her mouth, her cheeks, her brow, her nose. He even pulled off her bonnet to brush his lips across her hair. If it was within reach, he pressed his mouth to it. He couldn't help himself. A well of panic he'd not realized he'd been keeping at bay since he'd left his house washed over him now. He was so close to having what he truly wanted. She was right there, right there in his arms. But if he made a mistake, if he did something else wrong, if he couldn't make her believe, if she left him...

"It's all right, Hunter."

He was trembling. He could feel his arms shaking, as they had after he'd pulled her from Whistler on the bluffs. But he couldn't fool himself into thinking it was from physical exertion. Not this time. Not while his legs felt as if they might give out beneath him and his breath shuddered in and out as if he'd run the whole distance from London.

Kate's hands ran slowly up his back, down again. "It's all right."

It wasn't. It wouldn't be if, if he'd been wrong and he really was helpless. It wouldn't be if he couldn't make things right.

"I want to make things right."

She pulled back a little to study his face. "Then I'm sure you will," she said softly.

Not just absolute loyalty to those she loved, he realized as the panic began to dim, but absolute faith. He wasn't at all convinced he could live up to it, was quite certain he'd not done a thing to earn it, but he'd be d.a.m.ned if he couldn't find the courage to try and keep it now.

Feeling a bit calmer-though by no means confident-he took her hand and led her to the pair of chairs in front of the fireplace. He sat her in one, took a seat in another. And then promptly stood back up again to begin pacing the room.

"Hunter?"

"A moment."

Too late he realized he should have spent less time on his ride to Haldon daydreaming about waking Kate with a kiss, and more time planning what to say once she woke. Because knowing he had to try to earn the love and faith she offered, and knowing how how to try were two very different animals. He wanted to simply tell her that he loved her and leave it at that. But he to try were two very different animals. He wanted to simply tell her that he loved her and leave it at that. But he needed needed to tell her everything else. He needed her to know the man he'd been. to tell her everything else. He needed her to know the man he'd been.

The idea of it terrified him. Bad enough that he should have fallen in love, but to hand her his heart, and then all the reasons she should drop it and walk away went against every instinct he'd honed since he'd been a boy. And though earning a lifetime with the woman he loved, and not selfpreservation, had been his purpose in coming to Haldon, he couldn't keep from stalling a bit before coming round to that purpose.

He stopped in his pacing to light a few candles and then nod his chin toward the bonnet he'd tossed aside. "Where were you going?"

"Er..." She shifted a little in her seat, a bright blush forming on her cheeks. "To London. To see you. I was being...I was taking a calculated risk. I wanted...to tell you that I love you. Even though I left Pallton House. I wanted you to know that I will always always love you." love you."

He let out a long breath and felt the last of his panic ease. "Excellent." "Excellent."

"Yes, well. I'm delighted you think so." The blush died away rather quickly. "You said you wished to make things right?" she prompted.

"Right. Right. I..." The trouble with constantly reinventing oneself, he realized with disgust, was that a man had no practice answering for who he'd been. "I'm a good man," he tried and nodded as if to drive the point home to both of them. "I may not be a great man, but I am a good one."

She, in turn, shook her head in bafflement. "Yes, I know. Why-?"

"There are things, portions of my past you aren't aware of. A time when I was...less good."

"It doesn't change who you are now."

"No, it doesn't." It felt incredible to be able to say that, and believe it. It didn't feel nearly as pleasant to say, "It could change how you feel about me. How-"

"No," she cut in, her voice resolute. "It won't. Nothing could."

"I was a liar, a cheat, and a thief." He spit the words out quickly, afraid he would lose the courage.

"I see," she said slowly. "What did you do?"

"I lied, I cheated, and I stole," he replied in a tone that was both dry and cautious. "Mostly, I stole. I was using the phrase in a literal sense."

"Oh." She frowned thoughtfully. "What did you steal?"

"Food, coin, whatever I could. Whatever I needed." Once or twice, it had simply been what he wanted, but it wasn't necessary to admit every every sin in one night. "Life was difficult for a time, for a long time, after I left Benton. I did what was needed...what I felt was needed to survive. And to thrive. I picked pockets, slipped into homes, took-" sin in one night. "Life was difficult for a time, for a long time, after I left Benton. I did what was needed...what I felt was needed to survive. And to thrive. I picked pockets, slipped into homes, took-"