Page 53 of A Lyon’s Lesson

Hendrix stared at him startled. “You’re leaving now, my lord?”

“Yes. It will be daylight in a couple of hours. No sense in delay.”

“Are you driving, my lord?”

“No, I’ll ride.”

“Do you want me to rouse young Tom? He can saddle your horse for you.”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself.”

“Very well, my lord.” He hesitated and then said, “Take care, my lord.”

“I will. Thank you, Hendrix.”

He took the note he had written upstairs. Pausing at Cecey’s door, he opened it quietly and stepped into the room. The fire was banked against the mild chill of the night air, and she was curled up on her side, blonde hair splayed on the pillow. His balance wasn’t the best as he trod across the carpet as quietly as he could and set the note down on her bedside table.

She looked small and fragile and sweet in her sleep and for a moment he just wanted to gather her up and hold her. But that clawing panic in his gut overrode the impulse, and he left the room as quietly as he had entered it.

Reynolds was waiting for him, and he went in and asked him to pack an overnight bag, while he got himself out of his evening clothes. It was three in the morning. If he left now he could be halfway to London by midafternoon.

“Do you want me or Pagette to come with you?” asked Reynolds.

“No. With Bidenden gone, whoever was causing me grief—if anyone was—should now desist, and I want you to keep an eye on Her Ladyship.”

Reynolds frowned. “I don’t like you leaving at this hour. It’s still dark!”

“Only for an hour or so. I’ll be fine,” said Rick, shrugging into his coat.

“You’re drunk, my lord. Do you know what you’re doing?” asked Reynolds bluntly.

“Devil a bit,” said Rick with a grin he didn’t feel.

“My lord, don’t do this!”

Rick shook his head. “I have to. I’ll be back in a couple of days. I promise. I—I just need to see my brother, Ward.” He was aware of a note of pleading in his voice. Begging Reynolds to understand.

Reynolds nodded slowly. “Very well.”

Rick hugged him. “Thank you.”

Reynolds handed him the bag, and he headed to the door.

“Look after Her Ladyship,” he said.

Reynolds nodded. “Look after yourself, my lord.”

“I am,” said Rick obscurely and left. In the stables, he saddled Sovereign carefully, checking the blanket and tightening the girth appropriately. Then he mounted the stallion and set off down the long driveway under the partial light of a waxing moon. The air was cool but not cold, and it cleared his head a bit. He reached the end of the drive and hesitated. This was madness. He should go back, but something made him kick Sovereign into a longer stride, and he kept going south.

***

Cecey woke to a roiling stomach, so it was some time before she became of aware of the note that Rick had left, and when she had mastered its contents, a rage she had seldom felt before took possession of her. It masked the hurt in her heart and the sick, cold feeling in her stomach.

He had abandoned her again! Run away like a cur. She threw a vase at the wall and burst into tears.

She spent the morning in bed feeling sorry for herself, but hunger around midday prompted her to rise, bathe, and dress. She would not languish like a wilted flower. He had said he would only be gone a couple of days. And he had planned the trip. It was just his leaving so precipitously in the middle of the night after she’d confessed her belief that she was pregnant that made it so pointed. She might feel like he had slapped her in the face with his selfishness, but she would not let it get the better of her.

When he returned, she would have something to say to him about his cowardice. All the burgeoning love she had been feeling for him evaporated in the face of this revelation of his weakness. Leopards did not change their spots! And she would be a fool to expect any better from him.