Chapter Six
Kat is the same.
The message said no more. Cameron paced, reading the note in his mother’s hand dated two days previously. Damn it! How was he supposed to exist this way, with this kind of news? He wanted to go to Bath. Better yet, go somewhere else. Saddle up Apollo and just ride. Ride away from this torturous existence that fate had dealt him.
But he couldn’t. He had to stay here in his stupid little cottage on the Lybrook land. He had to look after Tricia. He had to write that goddamned song for Xavier to give to Rose.
His Rose.
No. No longer his Rose. He had let her go.
If only his heart could accept that sad truth.
But she still haunted him—the angel who never left his thoughts. Her beauty tormented him during all waking hours, and he couldn’t even escape her at night, as his dreams were filled with her kisses, her lush body enveloping his, her lips telling him that she loved him. He was consumed by her for all time. He would never love another woman.
He couldn’t shake the look on her angelic face, the sound of her velvet voice, the tremors of her body when he had turned her away. Revoked his love for her. He’d never told a bigger lie, and the pain on her delicate features was etched in his mind for all time.
But for Kat, he felt he wouldn’t want to live at all.
Tricia was at the stove, putting something together for their dinner. Cameron had to eat, but he had no appetite.
Worry for Kat.
Loneliness for Rose.
Hatred for himself.
No happiness. No contentment. No peace.
“Cam, dinner’s ready,” Tricia said.
Cameron sighed. He would eat. He needed strength for Kat. And he needed his brain at full functioning power to write that damned composition for Xavier. He would start tonight.
* * * *
Crawford, the Lybrook butler, led the two men into the main parlor. “May I present the Earl of Brighton and Lord Evan Xavier,” he said.
Iris gulped as Maggie rose to greet them.
“My lord,” Maggie said to the earl, “it has been too long. We are so glad to have your presence here at Laurel Ridge.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Brighton said. “My son speaks highly of the hospitality you have shown him over the past month. May I congratulate you on the marriage of your son.”
“Thank you, my lord. We are so sorry that you were unable to come to the wedding.”
“Alas, I was out of the country, as I’m sure Evan told you. I had business in Spain that took little over two months. The Brighton estate has substantial holdings there.”
“It’s good to have you home, my lord. You remember my sister, Miss Lucinda Landon?”
“Yes, it’s good to see you, Miss Landon.” The earl bent over to kiss Lucy’s hand.
“And may I present the Countess of Longarry. She is a longtime friend of Lucy’s and mine, and aunt to my new daughter-in-law.”
Iris stood, but her legs wouldn’t propel her forward. David had hardly changed in twenty years. His brown eyes, fringed in dark lashes, still had a way of penetrating her soul. His dark blond hair was now streaked with silver, and his face, pleasantly handsome like his son’s, defied his age. Only a few laugh lines around his eyes betrayed his sixty years. He strode toward her, so tall and broad, like Evan, and took her hand.
“My lady,” he said, their eyes meeting.
“I-It’s…good to see you, my lord,” Iris stammered. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”