Why Lords Lose Their Hearts (7 page)

Perdita couldn’t help but notice that her belly had grown in the month or so since they’d last seen each other. She returned the hug, then stepped back to look her sister over. “You are looking well, too, sister. In fact, I’d say that anticipating a blessed event suits you.” She tried not to let the pang of jealousy she felt for her sister’s situation enter her consciousness. It was not Isabella’s fault that she was newly married and happy. If things worked out as Perdita wished, she’d be married and with child soon, too. But there would be nothing like the love of Isabella’s marriage in Perdita’s. She should be grateful for the knowledge that Dunthorp would never gain the upper hand with her, but at moments like this, she was wistful for the relationship she might have if she would allow Archer closer. Though that was foolish, too, since despite her suspicions about Archer, he’d never come out and declared his affection for her. It was just a hunch.

“Do not try to change the subject,” Isabella said, breaking through Perdita’s thoughts. “You were very nearly killed yesterday. And we are both concerned for your safety.”

“Let her get some breakfast and a cup of tea, Isabella,” the ever practical Georgie said, before giving Perdita a quick hug and shooing her to the sideboard.

Once Perdita was seated at the table, with toast and a rasher of bacon, and the footman had poured her a cup of tea, she spoke up. “What are you two planning? For I cannot help but feel that you’ve been lying in wait for me.”

“Don’t be so suspicious,” Isabella said breezily. “Cannot a sister and friend express their concern for you without being suspected of plotting?”

“Frankly,” Perdita said before biting into her toast, “yes.”

“We are worried for you, Perdita.” Georgie got straight to the point. “And we both know what it’s like to be hunted down by someone with a grudge against us. How are you? How are you, really?”

To her shock, Perdita felt tears threatening. She swallowed and concentrated on clamping down on her emotions for a moment, but she could tell that both Isabella and Georgina had guessed what was going on. Finally, when she was confident she could speak without breaking into sobs, she said, “I am as well as can be expected the day after someone tried to run me down in the park. Still a bit frightened, but determined to be strong about it.”

“I had hoped so much that this person would stop once he’d finished his business with me,” Georgina said, her sincere regret furrowing her brow. “Though I suppose that was a foolish hope given that you were receiving letters from him while we were still in Bath.”

“True enough,” Perdita said with a sigh. “I had also hoped he would keep to the same leisurely pace as he proceeded to threaten me, but that was a false hope, as well.”

“Do you have any guess as to whom it might be?” Isabella asked, fidgeting with her teacup. “Could it have been someone at the Sumralls’ ball? A member of the ton, or perhaps one of the servants? Or even a servant hired temporarily for the ball itself?”

Perdita shook her head. “I have no idea. I must admit that I wasn’t paying much attention to the servants there, but it’s a good guess. And yesterday, I could tell only that my attacker was a man. I have no idea what man, though.”

“That is how he works,” Georgina said, her lips tight. “He doesn’t use the same people every time, so as soon as you try to find the first attacker he’s already moved on to using the next one. Or, as with me, he uses a multiperson strategy, so one element of the attack comes from the same person every time, but he uses another for the second prong, and the same for the third. It’s impossible to get a grasp on who any of them are while you’re trying to figure out what’s going on.”

Knowing her friend was correct, Perdita tried to separate the threads of attack in her mind so that she might consider the possible attackers at both the ball and the park. But her brain was not quite able to do the work this morning.

“Perdita,” Isabella said, reaching over to take her sister’s hand. “What about coming to stay with us in Yorkshire for a few months? You know that Trevor and I would love to have you, and the girls would adore seeing you again. Flossie has had kittens again and they will be ready to find homes, too. You know how you said that you wanted one the next time we had some.”

Looking at her sister’s radiant face, Perdita wished that she could simply accept her offer and return to Yorkshire with them. She had promised to come for a visit soon and it would be a relief to get away from the place where she’d experienced her most frightening attacks. But there was no way she would put her sister and her family in danger. Certainly not while she was with child and therefore at her most vulnerable.

“You know how much I love you.” she said aloud, “but I simply cannot go with you just now. I have responsibilities here in London. There is Ormond House to maintain while you and Trevor are away, and you know how many committees I am on for the various charities I am involved with. Not to mention the invitations I’ve already accepted. It is simply impossible.”

“I knew you would refuse,” Isabella said with a frown. “But honestly, you mustn’t put yourself in danger simply because you wish to protect us. Ormond has very loyal servants at the country house. And there is no question of another threat like my perfidious maid getting into the house.”

“Of course you would completely disregard my reasons for not being able to come.” Perdita could almost laugh at how quickly her sister had seen through her argument.

“Because your excuses were just that,” Georgie said with a sigh. “Excuses. You have never in your life worried about accepting an invitation then not being able to come. And the committee work is just balderdash. You are only on two that I know of and they are hardly stringent about every member being there for every meeting.”

Before Perdita could get her back up over it, Georgie continued. “I don’t blame you. After all, I didn’t want to leave Bath with you all when I was in a similar situation. But don’t try to pull the wool over our eyes. Just tell us that you don’t want to put us in danger. We are certainly able to understand it.”

“It frustrates me like mad that my being enceinte in particular keeps you from accepting my invitation, but I can hardly blame you.” Isabella rested a hand over her belly. “I am aware that my condition makes people—especially Trevor—wish to wrap me in cotton wool. But the fact that he expressly wishes me to invite you is a measure of how serious he believes the threat against you is. Do not refuse us lightly, Perdita. You are in very real danger.”

“I am quite aware of the fact that I’m in danger,” Perdita said, her knuckles white as she clenched her hands in her lap. “And of course I don’t wish to put you all in danger. It would be reckless and selfish of me to do so. Besides, it didn’t matter if you were buried in rural Yorkshire or in the middle of London or Bath. He still managed to find you. Why on earth would I lead him to your homes when he can strike just as well there as he can here?”

“I don’t like it,” Isabella said, her eyes filling with tears. “I cannot bear to think of you here dealing with these attacks alone. It is terrifying, but I had Trevor there to help me. To offer me his protection.”

“I have Dunthorp,” Perdita argued, knowing as soon as she said it that she no more trusted Dunthorp to keep her safe than the man in the moon. He was a nice enough man, but hardly someone she’d put her trust in. Archer’s image flashed for a moment in her mind and she knew without a doubt that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

As if she’d read her friend’s mind, Georgie laughed. “Dunthorp is hardly the kind of man one trusts to protect one from physical attack. I’ll bet he ran away from you yesterday rather than to you.”

“I don’t know,” Perdita said with a frown. “I cannot remember anything until just before we left to go to the park. But that’s an unfair characterization of Dunthorp. He might well have saved my life.”

“Do not be a goose,” Isabella said. “We all know very well that it was Archer who shielded you from further harm yesterday. And he will, I daresay, stay by your side through every minute of our mysterious villain’s campaign of terror. Because that’s what Archer does. He protects. And I think he would cut off his right arm before he allowed something to happen to you again.”

“Archer is loyal to the duchy of Ormond,” Perdita said firmly. “And yes, I daresay he would do anything to protect me. But any notion you have of the two of us making a match are simply daydreams, Isabella. I cannot think of him that way. And that’s an end to it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with seeking happiness,” Georgie said quietly. “Dearest, we’ve been in the same position that you’re in now. We were afraid of putting our trust into another husband. But not all men are the same. There are dangerous ones, like Wharton, Mowbray, and Gervase, but just because you make the wrong choice once does not mean that you will continue to make bad choices.”

The tears that had threatened when she first entered the breakfast room returned, spilling over onto her cheeks. And Perdita, unable to withstand more of Isabella and Georgina’s too accurate observations, stood and hurried from the room.

Six

Archer was in the study sorting through the stack of invitations Ormond had received this week—a task he’d ignored since the attacks on Perdita had started—when he heard the door open and shut. Quietly, as if whoever it was wished to keep anyone from hearing them enter.

“Archer,” Perdita said, clearly startled to find him there. As he stood he saw that her eyes were wet with tears. Unable to stop himself he crossed the room to her side.

“I’ll just get out of here and let you work. I didn’t think anyone was in here.” She turned to leave, her gown brushing his trousers as she did so.

“Don’t go,” he said, reaching out to catch her arm before she could open the door. From where he stood he could see one red-gold curl caress the softness of her neck. Could smell the clean scent of her perfume. He swallowed. “Tell me what’s wrong. Talk to me.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “What isn’t wrong? I suppose the attack yesterday has gotten to me. That and the way that everyone is leaping to my defense.”

He frowned, calling on every bit of self-discipline to pay attention to her words and not her nearness.

“That bothers you?” he asked once he’d got himself under control. “I should think it would make you feel loved.”

“Loved,” she agreed with a sigh, her lips twisting into a little half-smile. “But also frustrated because in the rush to protect me, everyone is taking away my autonomy. I am perceived as being unable to take care of myself. And that infuriates me.”

He saw that her jaw was set, and he removed his hand from her arm, but indicated that she should precede him to one of the seats before the fire. She gave a sigh, but turned to the chair. And he sat across from her. Wanting like the devil to touch her, but knowing that it wasn’t the right time.

He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I suppose you resent having your choices taken away because of Gervase?” He knew that it was unwise to bring the late duke’s name up, but he couldn’t help but blame the devil for what she suffered now. His death had been his own bloody fault. And the fact that someone was now punishing Perdita for it was as unfair as unfair could be.

“That’s part of it,” Perdita agreed, twisting her handkerchief in her lap. “He wasn’t overly fond of letting me make my own choices, of course. And now, just as I’ve become confident again, and able to make choices for myself, I’m suddenly in the position of being dictated to. It’s meant to protect me, I know, but I cannot help but feel resentful of it.”

“I suppose you refused both Isabella’s and Georgina’s invitations for you to visit them in the country,” he said, part of him disappointed that she’d refused to remove herself from danger, but another part pleased because this would mean that he could stay by her side. Protect her. Which was of course part of what she resented. He didn’t let the sigh escape his lips, though he felt it all the same.

“Of course,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. The dim light from the window illuminated her from behind, making her strawberry-blond hair glow like a golden crown. He knew that as long as he lived he’d remember this moment in this room. Perdita upset but determined, looking like an avenging angel.

“They simply want to protect you,” he said. “They mean well. We all do.”

“I know,” she breathed out. “I do. But I cannot make my sister and Georgina endure this again. They are beyond it now. And for better or worse, this person seems to have finished with them. He has moved on to the main event now. The job he has been working toward all along: terrorizing me. And I don’t mind telling you that I am afraid.”

She looked up then, and Archer felt his gut clench as he saw the very real fear in her eyes. If he could have, he’d have leaped up, found the fellow who wished her harm and run him through. But he knew as well as anyone that it wasn’t going to be that easy. This man was as conniving as they came. And he wasn’t going to let himself be caught without a fight.

Unable to help himself, Archer went to his knees before her chair and pulled her into his arms. He expected her to resist, but to his surprise and relief, she hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her close. It was impossible not to respond to the sheer pleasure of feeling her lush body pressed against his. His intentions might be honorable but his body cared nothing for honor when there was a soft female so near.

“What am I to do, Archer?” she asked, the puff of her breath on his neck sending a delicious thrill through him even as he tried to calm his racing pulse. “I cannot put them in danger. I simply can’t. But London feels dangerous, too. I daresay I’ll feel better in a few days, but right now, I don’t know what to do. You are my friend. Help me.”

At the word “friend,” he felt a bit of the excitement of holding her close ebb away. Still, he reminded himself, friendship was not nothing. And it meant she trusted his opinion, which was something neither Dunthorp nor her late husband could boast of.