“I see.” Ever
y ounce of sense she possessed—which had diminished since deciding to sleep in a bed with a strange man for money—said that Hudson Lockhart was a victim of the worst kind of betrayal. “And how did you end up on a ship bound for India?”
“Would you mind handing me the towel?” He gestured to the chair.
Claudia did as he asked and then returned to stare out of the window while he climbed out of the bathtub.
“Terence commanded the use of Selina’s carriage, and we drove directly to Portsmouth,” he said as he dried his naked body. Claudia gaped at his faint reflection in the glass. “You can turn around now.”
The same nervous excitement she always felt when gazing upon his masculine form rendered her rigid for a moment. “So you have not seen your parents since that night?”
She turned casually to face him, suppressing the sudden flurry of desire. His bronzed skin was damp, the sheen drawing attention to every bulging muscle. His mussed hair made her want to grasp the ends as she succumbed to another one of his salacious kisses.
“No.” The small towel covered his modesty as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Terence brought a change of clothes and a few basic items in a valise. He gave me money and bought the ticket.”
“And he warned you never to return home else you might swing from the gallows.” Terence was either the most considerate brother in the world, or the most devious.
“Indeed.”
Claudia tried to focus while noting the rippling muscles in his abdomen and the tantalising trail of dark hair leading down beyond the edge of the towel.
“How did Selina explain her absence to her parents?”
It was almost eighty miles to Portsmouth. They must have been gone for more than a day.
“I assume she couldn’t. No doubt that’s why she married Terence.” Hudson’s mouth curled in disdain. “I invited her to come with me, but she hates the heat and hasn’t the stomach for such a dangerous crossing.”
For love, Claudia would climb mountains, cross vast oceans. Selina’s actions told her all she needed to know.
“And so she chose your brother instead.”
“I imagine Terence dropped on bended knee, grovelled to her parents and explained how they were foolish and in love. I imagine he offered for her on their return to London. He never told me, and I certainly didn’t ask.”
Either Terence planned the whole thing out of jealousy, or he had sacrificed his happiness to save his brother. No wonder Mr Lockhart found it difficult to trust people.
Claudia remained silent for a moment.
Hearing the story of that fateful night had affected her in ways she could not comprehend. The overriding feeling was that she must save Hudson Lockhart. Save him from those wicked members of his family who took pleasure in persecuting an innocent man. Save him from the distrust that forged his character, that informed his thoughts and decisions.
And so as they dressed in preparation for the meeting with his parents, one question remained at the forefront of Claudia’s mind. Was Terence the villain or the hero of Hudson Lockhart’s sad story?
Chapter Eleven
Nothing had changed during Lockhart’s five-year absence. The grey stone exterior of his parents’ townhouse reflected the austere reception one would undoubtedly find inside. And while the cold facade forewarned of the true character of both inhabitants, their love of fashionable furnishings spoke of the fickleness and inconstancy that informed his parents’ daily lives.
“Are we waiting for something?” Claudia asked as they sat in the carriage, staring at the house. “The butler has opened and closed the door twice.”
“Simmonds will be glad of the fresh air.” Living inside a prison was stifling. Everyone, bar the mistress, suffered from some form of inadequacy, and she took pleasure in reminding them daily.
“We don’t have to go inside.” Compassion infused Claudia’s tone. “Equally, I am happy to wait here if you’d rather go alone.”
Lockhart considered the lady whose presence settled the unease in his chest.
If I loved you, I would tell you now.
Her words drifted through his mind, bringing the memory of last night’s sweet kiss flooding back. It had affected him more than he cared to admit.
“I need you with me,” he said, feeling the truth of it deep in his bones. Perhaps they might be friends when this was all over. Perhaps they might be lovers for a time. Both possibilities appealed to him. “And I need another stellar performance.”