Page 5 of A Stormy Season

Luke instantly recognized the man in the park as Louis Lenoir. The man who had been with Anne.

Luke managed to abstain from catching up to the man and punching him in the face—but only because he had Jeffrey with him. Jeffrey was more important. Even so, it was impossible not to imagine slamming his fist into the man’s nose and mouth, over and over.

God, help me.

He hated to be so abrupt with Miss Jane Gilchrist, especially since she was Henry’s sister, but he knew it would be difficult to convince Jeffrey that he couldn’t take up all of the young woman’s time. Luke had been on the brink of trying to politely and delicately extricate Jeffrey from this new playmate when he’d spotted that weaselly looking man staring at them.

Lenoir. He obviously knew who Luke was, as he hurried away as soon as he saw that Luke had recognized him.

Luke’s blood boiled anew just thinking about the skulking man with his long black cloak.

He would challenge the man to a duel. But that was foolish, most importantly because Jeffrey needed his father. Besides that, if Luke was killed, he would look like a cuckolded man who was a bad shot. And though he did wish Lenoir dead, he didn’t particularly wish to be the one to kill him. Such a thing would become common knowledge immediately and follow him for the rest of his life. No,“Vengeance is mine. I will repay,” saith the Lord.Luke would not kill the man.

Unless of course he was provoked and forced to defend himself.

“Miss Gilchrist play wif me,” Jeffry wailed, his tears and runny nose creating quite a mess on Luke’s shoulder.

“Perhaps Miss Gilchrist will play with you again soon.”

“Today?”

“Probably not, but your nurse Sally is happy to play with you. She’s waiting for you at home, I daresay.”

Jeffrey laid his head down, still whining softly, but when they were almost home, he started breathing deeply and evenly, indicating he had fallen asleep.

As Luke approached his townhouse, he saw that the front door was slightly ajar. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something felt wrong.

He pushed the door open. When he did, he heard shouting from one of the male servants and a woman’s scream.

Highly aware of Jeffrey asleep on his shoulder, Luke mentally calculated how quickly he could grab the poker from the nearest fireplace as he stepped inside. He called out, “Who’s there?”

A maidservant’s indistinct voice came from the stairs that led from the entry hall down to the lower level. Luke proceeded toward it, glancing all around as he went.

He stopped, looked down from the top of the stairs, and saw the butler lying on the floor by the bottom step, dark red blood on his cheek and just above his eyebrow, running down his temple.

One of the housemaids was kneeling on the floor beside him. She cried out, “Sir! Someone has injured Cobb.”

“Did anyone see who did this?” Luke went into the sitting room and grabbed the iron poker in his free hand. As he emerged, one of the footmen, Burke, met him in the hallway.

“Is the intruder still in the house?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Is Cobb badly hurt?”

“He’s bleeding from the head and hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he still breathes. Smith has gone to fetch a surgeon.”

“Are the rest of the servants accounted for? Where’s Sally?”

“I am here, sir.” Sally appeared behind him and followed him as he began climbing the staircase to his bedroom to fetch his gun. “Shall I take Jeffrey?”

“No, I’ve got him. I want to make certain the man who harmed Cobb is not still here.”

“He hit him and shoved him down the stairs. We are all rather frightened,” Sally said.

“Did anyone see the man?”

“I was at the bottom of the stairs, but I only caught a glimpse as he struck Cobb and made him fall. It was a horrible sight.” Sally’s voice was breathy and hushed. “Then he ran toward the back of the house.”