Chapter Six

A lady should never practice dissembling, for it is a direct reflection on her character.

December 20, 1817

Thistle Cottage

Near Ambleside,

Cumbria, England

The longer Jackson stared at Lydia where she sat on the bench opposite him with Elsbeth where they chatted about books they’d read, the more he mentally berated himself.

Why the devil did I do such wicked things to her last night?

Because he was weak, because he’d wanted to see how far she would let him go, because she’d gotten under his skin and he’d needed to touch her, taste her, watch her as she hit release. But when she’d unexpectedly revealed a couple things about herself, he’d been even more intrigued.

Who was she, truly?

And still, he wanted her in ways he hadn’t thought to be with a woman since he lost his wife. Did that mean he was betraying her memory? But she had been gone for nearly three years. If he moved forward with his life, would he cease being haunted by guilt and grief?

It was all baffling, but he stood by the thoughts he’d had yesterday. If he opened up to her and gave her tidbits or history about his past, she might feel comfortable enough to do the same for him.

Not long afterward, the coach came to a halt in front of an isolated cottage that needed repairs here and there. What was more, the ever-present rain had turned to a light, fluffy snow, while the dark, swollen clouds on the horizon hinted that a storm would soon be in the offing.

He heaved out a sigh, for finding the answers to his plethora of questions wouldn’t prove forthcoming immediately. “This is your cottage?” he asked Lydia.

“Yes.” Suddenly, the animation she’d shown before while talking to his daughter faded beneath a mask of apprehension. “I haven’t been here for at least six years.” She glanced out the window, and in the dim illumination, fear briefly reflected in her brown eyes. “It’s, uh… Well, it should be interesting going back inside.”

Why did he have the feeling this cottage didn’t once belong to either of her parents?

“Let’s go inside. If there are no supplies, one of us will need to go out for them, and if there is no wood for fires, I’ll chop it myself.” The coach rocked as the drivers climbed down from the box. “Is there a barn or stable nearby?”

“There is a barn, but I can’t speak to the condition.” She waved a hand to encompass someplace in the west. “There should be three stalls. I would imagine the horses were sold long ago. As well as the gig.”

“Has there been no one here caretaking the place?” Surely if it had been given to her from her father the earl or even handed down by a countess in a will, they would have provided for a caretaker.

“I can’t fathom there was.” Her swallow was audible, but she didn’t look at him. “The last, uh, caretaker was quite negligent.”

“Right.” By the time the coach door swung open, and Robert put down the steps, Jackson’s muscles had tensed. Perhaps he should at least walk the perimeter of the property or ask the drivers to do so. Clearly, something about this cottage had discomfited Lydia. As soon as he exited the vehicle, he handed his daughter out then did the same for her. If his hold on her hand lingered a few extra moments, he couldn’t help it. “Let us see what we’re working with.” He winked at her, merely to set her at ease, but it had no effect. “I could use a cuppa as well.”

“I could as well, Papa,” Elsbeth said. “I’m glad to be off the road. The coach is so cramped.”

“Yes, well, if you need to stretch your legs, there is plenty of land on which to do that, though I would prefer you do that with one of us.” Before he went inside, he strode toward the other traveling coach that followed, explained the situation, and then sent it onward so they could hopefully gain the nearest posting inn before the storm descended. It wouldn’t kill him or his daughter to do without their servants or the bulk of their possessions for a few days, and perhaps it would help teach Elsbeth humility.

Lydia led the way to the cottage’s front door while Jackson spoke softly to the drivers. After they put away the horses and parked the coach, they would do a cursory check of the property. After fumbling with an interior pocket of her cloak, she withdrew a key and then unlocked the mechanism on the door.

Despite hinges creaking on the panel as it opened, the interior of the cottage was nice enough. Honey-colored brickwork gave way to a wooden-tiled roof. Simply shaped into two stories with plenty of windows, it would no doubt host three or four rooms on the upper floor and the same on the lower. A small extension in the back was either for a kitchen or live-in staff.

As they stepped inside, he was pleased to see it was tidy if a bit stale and dusty, yet there were sheets over many pieces of furniture. Obviously, someone had been in during the past year to put the cottage to rights. Unfortunately, that meant the pantry wouldn’t have much.

What made him frown was the snow that continued. There was a certain scent to the air beyond the aroma of fires that he knew deep down in his bones signaled that a storm was on the way, and the precipitation would be snow instead of rain.

“I will leave you ladies here to put the cottage to rights. We’ll pass the night here before deciding tomorrow morning on whether or not to continue.” Once more he glanced outside. “I’m going to chop wood. Surely there is an old tree stump or mounting block nearby, and there’s no shortage of trees.” He looked at Elsbeth. “Would you like to come with me?”

Her expression suggested he was a nodcock. “Absolutely not. It’s snowing.” As if that were the definitive answer to everything.

“Very well.” With a nod to Lydia, he left the cottage. Soon enough, he discovered an axe in the barn to which the coach drivers had just returned. It was a solid wooden building, and there was dry straw—old though it might be—in the loft. Currently, both horses were in stalls, eating their fill. “Is the area secured?”

“As far as it can be,” Robert replied with a shrug. “No recent footprints and no sign of any sort of habitation.”

“Good. Did you want to bed down here or in the cottage?” In the cold, there was no divide of classes, at least as far as he was concerned.

The men exchanged glances, but both shook their heads.

“We’ll be fine here,” Robert assured him. “And I’d rather guard the horses and coach. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Jackson nodded. “As do I, but I don’t know why just yet.” He blew out a breath. “After I chop wood, one of you will need to accompany me into the village for supplies. I fear there’s a storm bearing down upon us.”

The second driver—John—nodded. “I can feel it in me knees, Your Lordship.”

“Very good. I’ll return shortly.”

Eventually he discovered a spot within the wooded area where several trees had fallen, whether from storms and wind, or some other reason, but it suited his needs perfectly. After removing his greatcoat and jacket, he laid them on yet another fallen tree then fell to work methodically chopping one of the trees into manageable split logs he could carry inside.

As he worked, he retreated into his thoughts, and most of the centered around the mysterious headmistress. His body heated with the exercise, but the cold temperature and the errant wind kept him moderately comfortable.

“Do you want some company?”

The dulcet sound of Lydia’s voice wrenched him out of his thoughts. Jackson paused and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He glanced at her, and beneath the overcast skies, she appeared even more pale with haunted shadows in her eyes.

“I’d welcome that, of course.” To say nothing of the fact that they should probably talk anyway considering they got up to scandal yesterday at the inn. Merely thinking about what he’d done to her, how surprised she’d been when she hit release, had interest shivering along his shaft again.

“Tell me about the cottage. How did you come into possession of it?”

“Oh…” She wrapped the folds of her mud-stained cloak more tightly about herself. “It once belonged to my mother. When she died, she left it for me, but it wasn’t until my father passed that I made use of it.” As she frowned, she watched him split another long. “Though it’s isolated here, I enjoy the tranquility and peace. Much different from London.”

“Indeed. There is something about this section of England that makes a body breathe easier and gives them a fire to go further north and explore the Highlands.” However, her story sounded far too rehearsed, as if it wasn’t the truth, but if that were so, why continue to tell him lies? When she remained silent, he rested the axe on the fallen tree he’d been using as a table. “Listen, Lydia. I don’t know you all that well, but I believe I know you well enough to say this. I don’t know what you’re hiding or why, but I won’t do anything to hurt you. In fact, I would do most anything to keep you safe, the same as I would with my daughter.” When she raised her gaze to his, shadows still haunted her. “If you are in some sort of trouble, I will do my level best to help you through it. I hope you know that you can trust me.”

For several moments, she was silent. Her chin trembled and tears filled her eyes. “That is such a lovely sentiment. You’ve been so kind to me and so naughty.” A blush stained her cheeks. “I’ve been rendered speechless by you more than one time, but I am afraid.”

“I can see it in your eyes.” His chest tightened from her distress. There was one thing above all others he needed to know. “Have you told me the truth at any time since we met?” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or didn’t believe she had a good reason for what she did, but eventually the stories would need to be told. He couldn’t continue to travel with a stranger.

“I don’t want to answer that.” She brushed at an escaped tear on her cheek. “You will surely think less of me.”

“I promise that I won’t. Everyone has something they are afraid or ashamed of.” What the devil was she hiding? And what had spooked her that she would continue to keep it? Perhaps she was traumatized so badly she couldn’t talk about it. “However, I want to help you.” Once more, he took up his axe and continued to chop wood.

“Sometimes I wonder if I am beyond help,” she said in a soft voice as her breath clouded about her head in the cold.

“Let us see what happens.” He brought the axe down on another log. When it split, a feeling of satisfaction went through him. “Are you truly a headmistress?”

“Yes.”

“And you own a finishing school?”

“Yes.”

It was a start. “For how many years?”

“Five. The first two were rather difficult until it began making an income and students filled the slots in the roster.”

Fair enough. “Another truth—you aren’t an innocent.”

The blush renewed itself in her cheeks. “I am not.”

When she didn’t expand upon that, he tamped on the urge to huff in frustration. “I’ll wager at some point in your past, you came into contact with a man who didn’t treat you well. Who made you wary of all men.” He cocked one of his eyebrows. “Is that correct?”

“Perhaps.” Lydia had taken to pacing with her arms wrapped about herself, which sent a clear message that she was closing herself off.

He kept his own counsel, for pushing her might cause her to shut him out completely. Another few logs were split before Jackson spoke again. “I don’t know what you’re keeping from me, nor do I know why, but I can imagine enough. However, I also can’t fix it if you don’t share with me.” For the space of a few heartbeats, he waited, but when she remained reticent, he nodded. “There are good, decent, honorable men in the world. Hell, even in England, but you must be willing to let them in so they can repair the broken pieces you struggle with.”

It was a chance, but he said it anyway. If she chose to end their association because of it, so be it.

With a sniff, she dashed at the tears on her cheeks. Each one made his chest tighten further. “At the risk of being hurt? Both physically and emotionally?”

Ah, another clue. Poor thing. “It is a risk for both people involved, no matter how they are. In order to make a relationship effective, both parties must be willing to show they are vulnerable, frightened, but wish to go forward anyway. Together.”

Did that mean himself as well?

“If only I could have such courage,” she said softly. “Trust is a difficult thing.”

“Agreed, but sometimes, you must step out in faith else you’ll never know anything different. Fear is often what keeps us from merely existing instead of living.”

Again, another truth about how he’d been keeping himself. Even his daughter was beginning to see it.

Eventually, he finished with the wood chopping and then laid the axe to the side of the fallen tree. “What was Elsbeth doing when you came out here?”

“Exploring the cottage. She’s already claimed one of the rooms upstairs.” A delicate shrug lifted one of her shoulders, and her rigid posture relaxed somewhat. “Do you think the weather will clear or are we in for a storm?”

“It’s difficult to say. The Lake District has always hosted interesting weather patterns.” If they were stranded, it would be a difficult few days, but at least they would be together. “I intend to ride to Ambleside in the event it does turn bad. We’ll need supplies.”

A frown tugged at the corners of her highly kissable lips. “You would do that?”

“Why not?” Truly, he was baffled at her surprise.

“You’re an earl.”

He snorted. “I’m a man and a father, first and foremost. I look after those in my care. That’s a promise I would never break.”

“Sometimes I think you stepped out of a dream, for surely you can’t be real. Men simply aren’t as you have shown to be.” Yet that particular longing appeared in her eyes again, and it tugged at his heart.

“Ah, my doubting Lydia.” Needing to reassure her, he closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. “Let me say again, you are safe. Do you hear me?” As he peered into her eyes, those dark depths filled with tears. “You are safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not now, not tomorrow, and especially not from your past.”

“Oh!” Her hands trembled in his, and what the devil had she done with her gloves?

“If you don’t believe my words, watch my actions.” It was becoming ever clearer that he rather liked her more than was good for him. It was folly, of course, and probably an excess of emotion brought on by the road trip and their close proximity, but he couldn’t discount it.

“You have already shown me in a hundred different ways in the few days I have known you.” The words rang with truth. “My story is dismal at best.”

“That doesn’t matter. We are all human. According to my daughter, that means we all fail but have the great capacity to rise again.”

She nodded. “The telling of it might change the way you view me.”

“I very much doubt that.”

A shuddering sigh escaped her. Tears wet her cheeks. “I’m not strong enough to relate the tale right now. Please understand. I wouldn’t even know where to start. And I especially don’t want to put you or Elsbeth in danger because of it.”

“I do understand that.” It was something, and it was more than he had yesterday. “We shall talk more in depth soon.” Then, daring much, he gently tugged her into his arms and simply held her. He would need to go slowly with her, show her that she had nothing to fear from him, that he would indeed protect her, but in the end, he suspected once he relieved her fears, the results would be spectacular. “I’m going to take one of the drivers and ride into town. Will you be all right with the other driver and my daughter for a couple of hours?”

“I think so.” She pulled away enough to peer up into his face. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It is my privilege.” Another truth, and he looked forward to proving further useful. It was something he’d missed since his wife had died. “Do you know how to fight?”

She snorted in apparent amusement. “I’ve held my own when it was necessary.”

Again, he wondered at her past and vowed to go after whomever had hurt her. “I’ll return as soon as I can, but I need to get on with it. Those clouds don’t look forgiving.” Before he released her, he pressed a kiss into her forehead. “Try not to fret. All will be well.”

She nodded as he left her and loped off in the direction of the barn, but the sight of those haunted eyes would forever remain seared into his soul.

No one should need to carry a weight alone.

Three hours later, as the snow came down in earnest, Jackson returned. The moment he entered the cottage, Lydia glanced at him. Her whole face lit with a grin and happiness reflected in her eyes. While Elsbeth swooped over and bussed his cheek in greeting, he couldn’t stop from watching the headmistress’ face as she continued to regard him with a soft smile.

Damn, but he rather enjoyed that reception and the light in her eyes. Even Elsbeth’s happiness pushed warmth throughout his person. It was almost as if they were a family, and this moment was suspended in time.

Is this what I’ve missed, then? Lack of connection and loneliness are the cause of my ennui?

He cleared his throat in an effort to hide his sudden emotion. “We’ll have cheese and bread and sliced meat for dinner tonight. Dusk is nearly upon us since it took rather more time to go into the village than I’d anticipated.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll cook tomorrow if we’re stranded here for a time.”

It was all too domestic, and far too enticing, but he was hopeful.