Chapter 10

Ten

The sleep of utter exhaustion took Lawrence as soon as he settled into post-orgasmic bliss, Minerva tucked against him. It had been a long day with a restless night before that, and if he was honest with himself, it had been a very long time since he had found satisfaction in the arms of a woman.

He’d found so much more than satisfaction with Minerva. He’d found joy and connection. He’d found someone whom he was confident genuinely cared for him, which, in his experience, was a rare thing. He’d found a beautiful woman with no inhibitions, one who enjoyed his every touch and kiss fully, without any artifice or hesitation.

In short, Minerva was perfection, and as sleep fell heavily on him in the aftermath of their lovemaking, Lawrence couldn’t remember himself ever being happier.

The night passed in wonderful oblivion. If Lawrence dreamed, he was certain those dreams had been about the magnificent goddess in his arms. He didn’t remember any of those dreams, so desperate were his body and mind for sleep, but he was certain they’d consumed him all through the night.

When morning finally did come, Lawrence was awakened by the shuffle of someone else in the room. He assumed it was the maid come to rebuild the fire and turned to his side, reaching for Minerva.

The bed beside him was empty.

Still sleep-groggy, Lawrence opened his eyes and looked for Minerva. She was not there. All he saw was Clarence grinning back at him from the bedside table. He stretched his arm farther and swept it under the covers just to be sure, though it was a silly gesture, since the covers lay flat. He was not overly worried, but the seed of the sense that perhaps all was not right lodged in his gut.

“Minerva?” he asked, his voice a bit thick and his body slow to move as he shifted to his other side and sat up a bit. The need and pull within him for her was a touch alarming, since every time he’d become so emotionally attached to a woman in the past, he’d been sorely disappointed. But he would not allow himself to panic yet.

The shifting sound he’d heard earlier had moved to the dressing room. It was clearly Minerva, but what she was doing in the dressing room instead of lying in naked splendor with him in bed for as long as possible was beyond him.

“Minerva?” he asked again, slightly louder, but also sounding needier, at least to his ears. He cleared his throat and frowned seriously, willing himself to be the strong sort of gentleman he should be.

While his brow was still creased, Minerva stepped out from the dressing room, fully dressed and with her hair already up. She paused abruptly and glanced at Lawrence with a frown.

“Is something amiss?” she asked, moving forward again.

Lawrence noted that she had a folded pile of fabric that was very likely some of her underthings, and that she’d brought her traveling bag out. She was packing to leave.

“I, er, no,” he said, pushing himself to sit up even more. He only worried slightly about the way the bedcovers slipped down to bare his chest down to his hips. “I missed you is all.”

He winced at the weakness of his statement and at the way his heart pounded against his ribs with eagerness for just a crumb of acceptance from her.

Minerva straightened from where she’d just tucked her underthings into her bag. Her expression was serious, as usual, but Lawrence ached to believe there was a spark of mischief in her eyes and that the slight twitch of her mouth was amusement with him instead of annoyance.

“How can you miss me when I am no more than ten feet away from you?” she asked.

Lawrence shrugged one shoulder as she abandoned her packing and came to sit on the bed with him, just out of arm’s reach. Dammit, why did he feel so vulnerable and pathetic with her? It was just as Jessica and all the others had said. He was weak when he should be strong, dull when he should be scintillating, and desperate where he should be confident.

“It is only that….” He blew out a breath. Now he could not even form his thoughts into adequate words.

Minerva stared at him for several long moments that made his insides pinch. Then she scooted closer, caressed the side of his stubbly face, and leaned into kiss his lips lightly.

“I am right here, Lawrence,” she said. “I am merely packing my things, as I believe we would like to make a swift departure as soon as possible this morning.”

Lawrence forced himself to let out a breath and as much of the tension of fifty years of romantic disappointment with it. “Yes, of course,” he said. He leaned in to kiss Minerva gently, deeply conscious that his breath was likely not in a state for kissing. “I should do the same.”

Minerva smiled at him, then stood so that he could climb out of bed. Lawrence noted the way she raked an appreciative glance over his naked form, almost teasing him with her eyes, before returning to her packing.

The saucy look should have made him laugh. It should have cheered him and confirmed that all was well between them and that their friendship had only been strengthened by a moment of unbridled passion instead of damaged by it.

That was what he should have thought, but the sheer volume of horrific luck that he’d had with women in his life, the pain and scars left by women like Jessica, and the crushed hopes within him that had never fully restored themselves made it a difficult slog.

It did not help matters in his mind that Minerva seemed to be in a hurry to quit Tidworth Hall. As Lawrence dressed, she completed her own packing and went straight into helping him with his. It was a task that a maid should do, but she determinedly took it on herself with stalwart efficiency.

Did she wish to flee from the site of their passion because she regretted the moment? She had not commented upon their activities nor hugged and cuddled him, gracing him with sweet words and sharing how much she’d enjoyed his attentions. Perhaps she was simply not the sort of woman who needed to fawn over her partner to appreciate him. Perhaps her method of showing her approval of him was assisting him with his baggage.

Or perhaps she regretted everything, including their acquaintance.

He was being ridiculous. Lawrence decided that much by the time they were dressed and finished packing, as they made their way downstairs to the breakfast room. He was allowing past defeats to tarnish his current victory. He could not be so sensitive. That was precisely the reason the majority of his past lovers had ended up laughing at him instead of, well, marrying him. Though now that he had Minerva in his life, he was rather glad they hadn’t.

“There you are,” Lord Otho greeted them when they entered the breakfast room and took their seats at the table. “We were worried that the demons in the attic carried you off.”

Minerva was halfway through sitting, and at Lord Otho’s words, she plunked ungracefully into her chair, her face pinking. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, her voice high and wispy.

“Did you not hear the awful racket from the upper floors last night?” Jessica asked, her glance to Minerva disapproving. She turned her attention to Lawrence as he pushed Minerva’s chair in, then walked around to take his own seat. “There was so much banging and jostling that I was convinced the highwaymen you mentioned the other day had descended upon us.”

Lawrence caught the slight movement of Minerva’s mouth, but when he tried to meet her eyes to share the jest, Minerva was not looking at him. She seemed intent on pouring tea for herself and on smiling for the footman who presented her with a selection of pastries.

Lawrence cleared his throat, fighting down the useless worry that he could not seem to shake. He smiled at Jessica and said, “I am afraid my lady wife and I were far away in the land of sleep. Your excellent tour of the house yesterday left us both exhausted from awe and so deeply content with the state of the house that we could not help but sleep soundly.”

It was too much. Even Lord Otho coughed and sent him a sly look. “I believe we all know what that truly means,” he said.

“Otho,” Jessica scolded him, her face flushing as well. She shifted to address Lawrence, not quite meeting his eyes. “The servants heard nothing, as their rooms are in the other wing. I sent Prissy to look for damage at first light, but she has not returned with her report as of yet.”

Minerva caught her breath, and for the first time since sitting, her gaze snapped up to meet his. There was a sparkle in her dark eyes, but it could have been alarm as much as camaraderie.

“I had it on good authority that those chaps who came to repair the roof last year secured it from all manner of creatures,” Lord Otho said, turning most of his attention to his breakfast. “I shall have a word with them and demand my money back.”

“Do not offend the tradesmen, dear,” Jessica said in a tight voice. “One never knows when they will require further service. I think it far more likely that some of the servants were up to mischief.”

“We do have mischievous servants,” Lord Otho said, winking across the table at Jessica.

Jessica blanched, which made Lawrence wonder what kind of rapport the two of them had when they did not have guests around.

“It was most likely Gavin and Ezekiel,” Jessica went on. “The two of them have been as thick as thieves since Gavin was hired. Prissy has reported suspicious behavior by the two of them to me in the past. I would not be at all surprised if they have been secretly stealing the spoons or other valuables and fencing them behind our backs.”

Minerva nearly choked on the gulp of tea she’d just taken. Lawrence would have done the same if he’d been drinking or eating. No doubt Gavin and Ezekiel were the two young footmen whom he and Minerva had interrupted in the unused guestroom. One of them, Lawrence was not certain of names, stood right there, attending them at the table. The poor young man looked suddenly terrified.

Considering the artistic circles Lawrence was a part of, he did not care one whit what sort of amorous activities two men shared. But he was loath to think the two footmen might be sacked for thievery because of someone else’s actions.

“I do not think any among your most excellent staff would be so irresponsible as to wander the house at night,” he said, sending the footman a reassuring smile. “They have been kind and attentive to my wife and I since we arrived. In fact, if anything should ever happen to them, I would be happy to employ them at Godwin House in London.”

He met and held the young footman’s eyes until he was certain the offer of employment, should Jessica sack him and his friend under false pretenses, was understood. The look of utter relief in the young man’s eyes, followed by what had the potential of turning into tears of gladness, convinced Lawrence the message had been received.

“Either way,” Jessica said, “it was a tumultuous and disturbed night.”

“In more ways than one,” Lord Otho muttered, winking at Minerva.

Minerva had been picking at her breakfast, but she set her fork down with a loud clink against her plate. Her face was flushed to a degree that alarmed Lawrence. Not only did she look offended by the cheeky comment, she looked a bit feverish.

“Lady Jessica,” she said, using the excuse of speaking to Jessica to turn away from Lord Otho. “Lawrence and I have enjoyed your hospitality so much these last few days, but I believe it is time for us to continue our journey.”

“Oh?” Jessica asked, making the single syllable sound both disappointed and incredibly relieved.

“Yes,” Lawrence jumped in, more anxious to leave than he’d thought he would be. “My dear heart and I discussed it last night, and we are eager to make our way onward to Wales.”

“Are you certain you do not wish to stay another night?” Jessica asked with the falsest of kindness. It was clear to Lawrence that his former lover wanted them gone.

It would be good riddance on both sides.

“Time is of the essence,” Lawrence said. “The sooner we are on our way, the more secure I will feel with Minerva’s condition.”

“Yes, she does look a bit piqued,” Lord Otho said. “And it’s no wonder.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Shall I have your carriage brought around?” Jessica said with a harsh edge to her voice.

“Yes, please,” Lawrence said.

The rest of the meal continued with as much awkwardness as Lawrence had ever known at a breakfast. Jessica continued to make false attempts to convince him and Minerva to stay longer, even though it was obvious she did not want them there. It was as if she needed to convince herself that she was a good hostess and a good woman, though Lawrence doubted both with every minute that passed.

Once the meal was over, Silas brought the carriage around, and the footmen carried Lawrence’s and Minerva’s things down, loading them on the back. Lawrence noted the way the two footmen whispered and sent grateful and adoring looks in his direction. It was enough for Lawrence to believe that the two of them would arrive on the family’s doorstep in London within a week, one way or another.

As if to convince Jessica that she had done the correct thing in allowing them to leave, Minerva emerged from the house last, cradling Clarence in her arms.

“Oh, good heavens!” Jessica jumped with fright at the sight of them.

“Lady Jessica, I should like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kindness and care these last few days,” Minerva addressed her, keeping an utterly straight face as she deliberately behaved like the madwoman Jessica had told Lawrence she was. “Clarence has enjoyed your hospitality as well and would like me to convey to you that your upstairs maids are among the finest he has ever observed, and counting his living years, he has been observing maids for two hundred years.”

“Oh! I…that is…please give my thanks…oh, no….” Jessica quivered with upset, clearly at a loss as to how to engage with a skull.

“Thank you,” Lawrence said succinctly, resting his hand on the small of Minerva’s back as he steered her toward the carriage.

He sent Minerva an approving look, but the smile she gave him in return died quickly. That did not settle Lawrence’s nerves where the state of their relationship was concerned one bit.

At last, once everything was loaded, Clarence was settled in the carriage, and Lawrence and Minerva had donned their traveling cloaks again, it was time to depart.

“I say,” Lord Otho said, squinting at the carriage. “You need to have someone take a look at your carriage, someone with more skill than your driver. It seems to have become unbalanced.”

“Has it?” Lawrence asked, feigning only mild interest.

In fact, the entire back of the carriage sagged dangerously low. The heavy statue was packed away under everything else now and could not be reached easily, but the evidence that it was there was on display for all to see.

“Yes,” Lord Otho said. “Perhaps my wife was correct in inviting you to stay a few more days. You should not travel when your carriage is in such disrepair. Especially with the amount of rain we’ve had of late. I can have the footmen bring your things back inside, and your driver could take the carriage into the village to have it?—”

“No!” Minerva blurted, her face bright red. She cleared her throat and schooled her tone to say, “No, no, all will be well. I am certain of it. We need to continue on with all haste.”

She pressed a hand to her stomach to further the effect of her words.

“Yes, you must be off,” Jessica said, sending Lord Otho a stern look.

“I suppose, if you insist,” Lord Otho said, gesturing to the carriage.

Minerva wasted no time stepping forward and allowing one of the footmen to hand her into the carriage.

“I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality, Lady Jessica, Lord Otho,” Lawrence said goodbye for both of them, bowing to Lord Otho and kissing Jessica’s hand. “I am grateful for what has been a truly lovely visit.”

“Yes, yes,” Jessica said with a sigh, clearly ready for him to go. “You must visit us again soon.”

Lawrence smiled at her, but the moment he’d turned his back to head for the carriage, he rolled his eyes. If he never saw Jessica again, it would be too soon.

“I am more than glad to be done with that,” he said once he was settled in the carriage and they were on their way.

Minerva merely hummed as she looked out the window, one hand rested on Clarence’s pate.

Lawrence frowned, his heart quivering with worry again. Had the bloom already gone off the rose between the two of them? Had Minerva taken what she’d wanted from him and immediately lost interest? It would most definitely not have been the first time he had lost the good favor of a woman so quickly.

“Minerva, are you quite well?” Lawrence asked, feeling as though voicing the question was taking an immense risk.

Minerva pried her eyes away from the rolling countryside to look at him. “I thought we were moments away from being found out,” she said, her expression grave. “I believe it has unsettled me.”

Lawrence did his best to smile. He even reached out to rest a hand on her knee as she sat opposite him. “All is well,” he said. “We have endured the awkward visit and obtained what we came for.”

“Yes, I am happy for that,” Minerva said stiffly, then cleared her throat and swallowed awkwardly.

“And now we can continue on with our intended journey,” Lawrence said, his smile difficult to keep in place for some reason. “The rest of the road lies ahead of us, and our destinations are secure.”

For some reason, that simple statement caused Minerva to pinch her eyes closed for a moment with a look of what Lawrence could only describe as despair. Perhaps it was regret. It made him sick to think that Minerva, the most magnificent woman he’d ever met, regretted a moment of their acquaintance, especially those particular moments last night.

But he feared that was the case. By the time they were a mile away from Tidworth Hall, things were back to what they had been at the very beginning of the journey. The two of them sat in silence across from each other, each lost in their own thoughts, as much strangers to each other as they’d ever been.