A look passed between them—unspoken words that hinted at dark secrets. If Emily were here, she would note the animosity in the air, a mutual disrespect that neither Mr Lockhart nor Selina could hide.
“You’re too blind to see your own hypocrisy.” Selina’s mirthless chuckle conveyed her contempt. “You say you care about your wife and yet you’re willing to risk her ending up poor and destitute and living in the workhouse.”
A figure hovering on the other side of the glass doors captured Claudia’s attention. Mr Drake guarded the exit, his large frame filling the space, preventing anyone from escaping out onto the terrace. Mr Lockhart’s other friends were there, ready to jump to his defence at a moment’s notice.
Despite being paid to be his wife, Claudia felt a shred of loyalty to Mr Lockhart, too. Indeed, his sibling was not interested in asking her name. Neither Terence nor Selina cared that their brother had not perished from a fever. Neither cared that he had come home, nor that they might expect another addition to the family.
“My husband is not a fool.” The words burst from Claudia’s lips to mark her annoyance. “Do you honestly think he would put his wife and child at risk? Surely you know him well enough to know he would fight to the death to protect those he loves?” Claudia sucked in a breath. “Clearly, you know nothing of the man you abandoned five years ago.”
Mr Lockhart squeezed her fingers.
“And my name is Claudia, in case you should be remotely interested in congratulating us on our marriage. But wait. You’re too self-absorbed to consider our thoughts and feelings.”
Once she had started, she couldn’t stop.
Much like the moment she’d locked lips with Hudson Lockhart. She cast the gentleman a sidelong glance, noted the smug grin playing on those full lips, lips capable of rendering an innocent lady helpless.
Mr Lockhart cleared his throat. “My wife has said all that’s needed. I shall visit our parents tomorrow, if only that they might learn their son is alive before hearing the news from malicious gossips.”
Keeping a firm grip of Claudia’s hand, Mr Lockhart moved to walk past them.
“Hudson, wait!” Terence called. Evidently, he still had much to say.
Mr Lockhart did not reply. As they stepped up to the terrace door, Mr Drake pushed it open and threw a menacing glare Terence Lockhart’s way.
“Hudson!” Terence cried. “For the love of God, you cannot stay here.”
Mr Lockhart glanced back at his brother. “I listened to you once but never again.” His brown eyes turned dark and predatory. For a second, he looked capable of ripping a man’s heart from his chest. “Now that I’m older and wiser, I shall do as I damn well please.”
Chapter Nine
Hatred, he could deal with. The emotion had been Lockhart’s permanent companion these last five years. It lived in his chest like a parasite, thrived on any opportunity to rear its ugly head and feed on anyone who dared offer a challenge.
But now another emotion fought to rid him of his disease. This one had no name or label. It was like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. No matter how hard he tried, he could not claim it.
Lockhart traipsed behind Miss Darling as she climbed the stairs, heading for their bedchamber. The cerulean gown clung to her hips to accentuate the sensual sway. Lust simmered in his blood. Kissing her had only intensified his craving. But that was not the nameless sensation that sent anger at his brother fading into the background.
Was it pride he felt?
Miss Darling shone amongst the ladies of the ton. Gentlemen leered, taken by her vivacious countenance. Had he not kept her firmly at his side, every rake and rogue would have sought her company on the dance floor.
Was it gratitude?
Despite knowing it was all an act, a surge of warmth had flooded his chest when she’d berated Terence and Selina for their lack of thought and care. Hearing her good opinion of him had played havoc with his mind. It roused a determination to be the best version of himself, the best version just for her.
It was all rather odd—all rather baffling.
Consequently, he’d remained silent during the carriage ride home. Numerous times, she had praised his loyal friends in an attempt to restore his flagging equilibrium. He admired that about her, too. Unlike Sel
ina Lockhart, there wasn’t a selfish bone in Miss Darling’s body.
When she opened the door to their bedchamber, a flurry of excitement dragged him from his musings. She glanced back over her shoulder as if unsure if he would follow. This charming game they played would distract him long enough to keep all anger and frustration at bay.
“Thank heavens someone had the foresight to light the fire.” Miss Darling raced to warm her hands in front of the amber flames. “My fingers and toes are still numb.”
After fifteen minutes spent conversing with his friends, they had left the comte’s masquerade before supper. It was not an entirely selfish decision. A woman with so pure a heart as Miss Darling did not deserve to be stripped and whipped by the gossips. Lord knows what lies Selina had spouted in his absence. No doubt Lockhart was the dissipated rogue who sought entertainment in warmer climates. The vixen had to make some excuse for marrying his brother.
“I instructed Mrs Brewster to keep the fire going all night.” Else a man might be tempted to snuggle next to a warm body when slipping into a cold bed.