Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Laura Martin
FROM THE DARKEST OF SHADOWS…After a year wrongfully imprisoned in an asylum, Louisa Turnhill can’t believe it when Robert, Lord Fleetwood, arrives to rescue her. As her new guardian, he’s there to take Louisa to his London townhouse – and a different life. … TO THE DAZZLING WORLD OF THE TON Thrust into an unknown world of debutantes and balls, Louisa starts to put her trust in Robert. But his life is tainted with darkness too, and with Society’s eyes upon them will they ever be able to shake off the secrets that once lurked behind locked doors?
‘I want to take you away from here, Louisa,’ he said eventually. ‘I want to take you somewhere safe whilst I figure out exactly what’s happened.’
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Robert surmised that she hadn’t had much reason to trust people in the last few years. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively and started to hunch into herself.
‘I promise I won’t hurt you,’ Robert said, kneeling down in front of her and gently taking her hand. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.’
She flinched as his skin touched hers, not pulling her hand away but cowering a little, as if she expected him to hit her.
‘Trust me,’ he said quietly.
Louisa regarded him for almost a minute in silence, staring into his eyes, and Robert felt as though she’d studied his soul. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
AUTHOR NOTE (#ulink_91d28564-29ca-52f4-a50f-36609d882ae0)
Ever since I can remember I have been fascinated by the workings of the mind: what makes one person thrive whilst another will be made to withdraw. One thing that has particularly intrigued me is how society’s perception of mental illness has changed over time. This is demonstrated perfectly by our treatment of those suffering from mental illness. Hundreds of years ago such people were shunned by society and cast out of their communities. In the Regency period common practice was to lock away anyone with unexplainable behaviour and pretend they didn’t exist. This led to an increase in the number of unregulated and unlicenced institutions where the unfortunate inmates received no rehabilitation or medical care, worsening their conditions. Stories abound about unfortunate individuals discarded in asylums by their relatives who, despite having no reason to lock them up, wished to gain from their disappearance.
Another psychological theme runs through this book. For centuries men have fought in wars which have left mental as well as physical scars. The symptoms of shell-shock, or post-traumatic stress disorder, have only recently been recognised as a consequence of the strains that battle places upon the psyche. However, the soldiers of the Napoleonic wars would have been subject to many of the same stresses as soldiers of today. SECRETS BEHIND LOCKED DOORS explores how such mental scars can be a barrier between the sufferer and the wider world. In writing a character with some features of PTSD I hoped to portray how the disorder can impact on every aspect of life—including love.
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LAURA MARTIN writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel—especially visiting historical sites and far-flung shores.
For Dad, for all the inspiration and encouragement. And for Luke. I couldn’t do it without you.
Contents
Cover (#ud1d5d4a0-4c62-5440-9c60-4dfb8ee8a6f4)
Introduction (#uf34a863c-7389-55d7-b972-fe5920ee2cb1)
Author Note (#u1eaf74bc-57c3-51cd-80ca-bee574023f54)
Title Page (#u0157ab47-0a00-56ad-b7e6-f4c66c2286eb)
About the Author (#u652c13cd-50a0-5d2c-adda-eb4fd03d3bb8)
Dedication (#u548bb0c1-c59d-5db3-a38c-88318a7d5eee)
Chapter One (#uc3d367d7-6ad7-57e7-a293-4e5227b90fb3)
Chapter Two (#ua819d7d9-c9bb-57ae-85ec-72111d2db069)
Chapter Three (#ua917929a-6f03-5a92-b996-baf0e41b0858)
Chapter Four (#ub5e81032-2510-52b6-8825-998bb1aee3ba)
Chapter Five (#u6da1991b-2ccf-5e06-bb99-a1b19f192f37)
Chapter Six (#u28b2f0ef-d577-5db5-a8a9-919969d68b59)
Chapter Seven (#u8586e8c8-72ff-564f-b04d-fa24ca51018f)
Chapter Eight (#uc238ae29-7339-5f7e-8efb-13a8f903777e)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_972ee741-5ad0-58b9-9f08-2e683185c98b)
Robert fought the urge to turn around and flee. He wasn’t a man who had ever run from anything. Six years he’d fought in the army and he’d never backed down from a fight, but right now his courage was deserting him.
‘Ready, sir?’ asked Yates, his agent, apparently oblivious to his discomfort.
Robert nodded, raised his hand and knocked on the imposing front door.
The stench hit him as soon as he walked inside. It was a mixture of sweat and cabbage and something else he didn’t even want to guess at. He wondered how the staff coped with it, the smell permeating their clothes and lingering as they returned home to their families. At least they could return home though, he supposed. Some of the inmates wouldn’t ever leave the confines of the Lewisham Asylum; they’d spend long years cooped up in the dreary rooms with only their screams for company.
‘Lord Fleetwood—’ a grubby little man hurried out to greet them ‘—it is such an honour to meet you. I’m Symes, the humble proprietor of this establishment.’
Robert nodded silently in greeting. He wanted to get his business here sorted as quickly as possible and escape. Already he was feeling despair, the same sensation the patients must have felt as they were dragged out of the sunlight one last time.
‘I said to your man there must be a mistake,’ Symes said as he led Robert into his office. ‘None of our patients are gently born, we haven’t got any ladies here.’
Robert very much hoped so, but in the ten years Yates had worked for him he hadn’t known the man to be wrong.
‘You have a patient listed as Louisa Turnhill?’ Robert asked.
Symes flicked through the ledger in front of him, his short, pudgy fingers crinkling the paper.
‘Louisa Turnhill, aged nineteen. Came to us just over a year ago.’
Over a year in this place. Robert couldn’t even begin to imagine it.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Robert asked bluntly.
Symes squirmed a little in his seat, but dutifully read out the entry next to her name. ‘Melancholy and mania. Violent outbursts. Hallucinations.’
‘And what is her treatment?’
Symes looked at the two men in front of him blankly.
‘Treatment?’ he asked.
‘Yes, what are you doing to make her better?’ Robert had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer to this question, but he persisted anyway. ‘How do you propose to cure her?’
‘Oh, there is no cure, Lord Fleetwood,’ he said, baring his yellow teeth in an uncomfortable smile. ‘We don’t deal in cures here, just room and board and a place for the wretched to stay out of the way of the rest of the world.’
Robert knew he’d never been in a more depressing place. Nearly one hundred poor souls locked in grim little cells with no hope of a cure and for many of them no hope of release.
‘Tell me,’ he said reluctantly, ‘how is Miss Turnhill presently?’
Symes shrugged. ‘I oversee the asylum, I don’t visit the inmates. You can see for yourself.’
He stood and stuck his head out into the corridor, motioning for a middle-aged woman to come into the room.
‘Show this gentleman to Room Sixty-Eight,’ he ordered.
Robert followed the dowdy woman up three flights of stairs. All around him screams and moans were muffled by thick wooden doors. He wondered how anyone got any rest. He wasn’t surprised they didn’t hope to cure anyone at Lewisham Asylum; he rather suspected it would turn a sane person mad within a month.
‘She’s in here, sir.’
The female warden slotted a key into the lock in front of her and opened the door.
Robert steeled himself, then stepped inside. He turned to see the door closing behind him as the warden locked him in.
He waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was a tiny window, high up in the wall, covered almost entirely with bars. It let in a sliver of sunlight, but nowhere near enough to illuminate the room. In one corner was a metal bed and in another a small pot. The walls were whitewashed and the floor beneath his feet bare floorboards.
At first glance Robert thought they’d brought him to the wrong room, an empty room. For a few seconds he didn’t see the slender young woman crouching by the side of the bed, her wrist encircled by a manacle and a chain securing her to the wall. She was sitting completely still, regarding him with wide brown eyes.
‘Miss Turnhill?’ he asked.
She shied away from him as he took a step towards her.
‘Louisa?’ he tried again.
In his least threatening manner Robert ambled across the room and took a seat on the bed. It was hard, little more than a metal frame with an inch-thick straw mattress.
‘My name is Robert, I’m here to help you.’
The young woman cocked her head to the side and scrutinised him. For an instant Robert wondered if she was dumb, or if she’d forgotten how to speak in her year of captivity.
‘No one’s here to help me,’ she said eventually, her voice a little croaky as if underused.
‘I would really like to learn a little more about you,’ he said softly.
She chuckled and Robert wondered if she was about to become hysterical.
‘No, you wouldn’t.’
‘How are you feeling today?’ He tried a different tack.
She paused, regarding him seriously. ‘Not too mad today, thank you very much.’
Robert felt as though he’d been transported to another world. He had no idea how to talk to this young woman. She didn’t seem mad, at least not at first glance, but he wasn’t exactly an expert.
‘Are you going to hurt me?’ she asked as if enquiring about the weather.
Robert looked at her carefully. Underneath her uninterested demeanour he realised she was scared. Petrified, even.
‘I promise I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said sincerely.
She relaxed a little. ‘Have you brought any food?’ she asked.
Robert wondered how she’d gone from violence to food so quickly. His confusion must have shown on his face.
‘When people come in it’s either to hurt me or bring me food,’ she said calmly.
Robert Fleetwood, hardened soldier and celebrated war hero, felt his heart go out to this scared young woman. In that instant he vowed silently to help her. Even if she wasn’t the Louisa Turnhill he was looking for, he would make sure she was properly looked after, somewhere a long way from Lewisham Asylum.
‘Will you tell me how you came to be here, Louisa?’ Robert asked.
She stood, the chain attached to her wrist jangling as she moved. He saw she was thin—a year of asylum food didn’t seem to provide much nourishment. Her hair was long and straggly, falling most of the way down her back. There were bruises on the pale skin of her arms and dark circles under her eyes. She was in a poor state, but despite all of this Robert saw the spirit burning in her eyes as she watched him look over her. In her time at the asylum they hadn’t broken her.
She came and sat on the bed next to him, making sure there was as much distance as possible between them.
‘There’s no point,’ she said, turning her face towards him, ‘you wouldn’t believe me anyway.’
It was said with such certainty that Robert knew he had to hear her story. He wondered if she was deluded, whether she would tell him a different tale if he came back tomorrow.
‘I might,’ he said simply.
‘If you stay here overnight, there’s lots of screaming,’ Louisa said. ‘And moaning and shouting. Do you know the most common thing people shout?’
He shook his head.
‘They shout “I’m not mad”—’ she paused ‘—or “I shouldn’t be here”, which is much the same thing.’
Robert couldn’t imagine spending a single night in this hellish place, let alone over four hundred as she must have done.
‘Everyone says it,’ she said with a small smile on her face. ‘But I actually mean it.’
‘You shouldn’t be here?’
‘I’m not mad,’ she said, ‘or at least I wasn’t when they put me in here.’
He didn’t know how to respond. He’d expected howling and writhing, he’d been prepared for that—this cool, detached statement of sanity he didn’t know how to react to.
‘I probably am a little bit mad now. Anyone would be after a few months in this place.’
She looked at him and Robert got the sensation she was assessing him, weighing up whether he was worth revealing more to.
‘I said you wouldn’t believe me.’
‘What happened?’ Robert asked simply, not trusting himself to say more. He got the feeling this strange young woman was very astute—she’d know if he lied to her.
‘You actually want to know?’
‘I want to know.’
‘I had an evil guardian,’ she said, then giggled. ‘Your face is a picture.’
Robert hadn’t realised he’d moved a muscle.
‘My evil guardian locked me up here after I refused to marry him. Lecherous old sod.’
Sometimes she sounded so normal, so sane, but Robert knew there were some lunatics like that. So caught up in their fantasy world they could make others believe it was true.
‘He wanted the money my parents had left to me. When I wouldn’t give it to him through marriage, he bribed a doctor to certify I was insane and dumped me here. I should imagine he’s worked his way through most of the money by now. Not that it’s any use to me in here.’
Robert knew he shouldn’t believe her. He knew he was probably being manipulated, conned into believing her fantasy, but the disbelief in his mind was giving away to horrified realisation.
He’d received a letter eight weeks ago, a confession of sorts. It had been sent the day before his great-uncle had died. In the letter his great-uncle confessed to committing a grave sin and asked Robert to put it right. The only other information the old man had supplied was Louisa’s name.
Surely this wasn’t the sin his great-uncle had talked of. Robbing a young woman of her fortune was one thing, but to rob her of her freedom and label her as insane was worse than murder.
He cursed the man again for not providing more details of his crime.
‘And who was your guardian?’ he asked, trying to make his tone casual even though he was holding his breath in anticipation of her answer.
‘Thomas Craven,’ she said. ‘The name I curse last thing every night and first thing every morning.’
Robert felt the foundations of his world rock. This young woman must have been the ward of his great-uncle, Thomas Craven, otherwise there was no way she could have given him the right name.
When Yates had tracked Louisa down to the asylum, Robert hadn’t known what to expect. He’d wondered if his great-uncle had somehow played a part in this young woman’s descent into madness, maybe by robbing her of her innocence, an event she hadn’t been able to recover from, and for which his great-uncle had rightly blamed himself. No part of him had been prepared for the possibility she’d been wrongly imprisoned for over a year.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, patting him on the hand in a sisterly gesture, ‘you don’t have to believe me.’
Robert stood and paced to the other side of the tiny room, trying to buy himself time to figure out what he believed.
‘I want to take you away from here, Louisa,’ he said eventually. ‘I want to take you somewhere safe whilst I figure out exactly what’s happened.’
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Robert surmised she hadn’t had much reason to trust people in the last few years. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively and started to hunch into herself.
‘I promise I won’t hurt you,’ Robert said, kneeling down in front of her and gently taking her hand. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.’
She flinched as his skin touched hers, not pulling her hand away, but cowering a little as if she expected him to hit her.
‘Do they beat you here?’ he asked, suddenly catching sight of the bruises on her arms for a second time.
She laughed in disbelief. ‘Of course.’
Robert felt the rage building inside him, rage he thought he’d managed to control for so long. He didn’t know if this young woman was mad or the victim of a very heinous deception, but either way she didn’t deserve to be beaten. She shouldn’t be chained to the wall, frightened of every person who entered her dismal cell. She deserved more than that, every human did.
‘Trust me,’ he said quietly.
Louisa regarded him for almost a minute in silence, staring into his eyes, and Robert felt as though she’d studied his soul. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Robert rose to his feet, strode the couple of paces to the door and thumped hard on the wood with his fist.
He waited until he could hear footsteps approaching, then thumped again.
The female warden unlocked the door and stood aside for him to come out.
‘Get me Symes,’ he commanded. ‘And give me the keys to unlock this poor girl’s manacles.’
The warden just stared at him.
‘I said give me your keys,’ he growled in a voice that brooked no argument.
Wordlessly the warden handed over a key, unthreading it from the bunch.
‘Go get Symes,’ he repeated. ‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill away from here.’
‘Very Arthurian,’ Louisa murmured as he unlocked the manacle from around her wrist.
He looked at her, puzzled.
‘My knight in shining armour.’ He saw the smile on her face and humour in her eyes and wondered how anyone could keep from utter despair after spending such a long time in the asylum.
‘What’s going on?’ Symes asked as he blustered in. ‘Lock her back up immediately.’
‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill with me,’ Robert said, ‘and we’re never coming back.’ It was a bit of a dramatic statement, but the whole scene seemed a little farcical to him.
‘You can’t do that,’ Symes said.
‘I’m her legal guardian now, I can choose to do whatever I like. And I choose to take Miss Turnhill away from this dreadful place and into my care.’
With that Robert took Louisa’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. She took a couple of steps forward and stumbled. Robert realised she wasn’t used to walking far and, adding to that the excitement of escape, he wasn’t surprised she was a little overcome. Wanting to make their exit as quickly as possible, he bent his head to Louisa’s ear and dropped his voice so only she could hear.
‘I’m going to carry you,’ he said.
‘You most certainly are not.’
Robert blinked twice in quick succession. Most young ladies wouldn’t give up the chance of being swept into a man’s arms whatever the circumstances.
‘I was dragged into this hellhole, but I will walk out on my own two feet.’
Chapter Two (#ulink_2981172d-bfa1-5292-8d03-b7ba090abaa3)
Louisa stumbled, but only once. She righted herself, held her head high and walked out of Lewisham Asylum for the last time. They could threaten to poke out her eyes and hang her by the neck, but nothing would make her enter that vile place ever again.
‘Where to now?’ she asked, eyeing her saviour with a grin on her face.
He looked down at her with concern. Louisa supposed she probably did look a little mad, dressed in the grey sack of the madhouse, squinting into the sun and grinning like a lunatic. She didn’t care. She was free.
‘My home, perhaps?’ Robert suggested.
She pulled a face. ‘But there’s so much to do. Over a year of things to catch up on. I was thinking a stroll in the park.’
She watched as he tried to hide the horror on his face. She grinned again and waited as it dawned on him that she was teasing.
‘Your home would be lovely,’ she said quietly.
She’d always found it hard to be serious, her natural temperament was carefree and joyous. Even when her parents had died she’d tried to see the positive side to life. In the years she’d dodged her guardian’s unwanted advances she’d almost forgotten how to smile. Then he’d dumped her in the asylum and she’d vowed she would be true to herself, no matter what hardships followed.
Gently Robert helped her up into his carriage. He followed her inside and banged on the roof, signalling for the driver to depart. Louisa watched as the facade of the asylum faded into the distance, then felt her body start to shake. She couldn’t believe she was actually out of that place. She was free. She didn’t know what life held for her now, but surely nothing could be worse than the eight long years with her guardian or the one in the madhouse.
She couldn’t stop the shaking, she felt overwhelmed. She felt the tears start to pour from her eyes and run down her cheeks.
‘It’s all right,’ Robert said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’
He moved from his position on the opposite side of the carriage to sit next to her. Gently he took her in his arms and held her. Louisa felt herself stiffen. She wasn’t used to human contact, at least not of the friendly kind. No one had hugged her since her parents had died. Slowly she allowed herself to relax into his arms, soothed by the soft sound of his voice.
‘You’re safe now,’ he repeated over and over again, and for a few moments Louisa allowed herself to believe it.
She wondered what was driving this man. She’d had to trust him in the asylum, she’d have trusted anyone who’d given her the chance to escape, but now she was free she could always try to make her own way. She watched as the carriage slowed slightly and wondered if she would hurt herself too much if she jumped. Being alone in London was a scary thought, but at least she wouldn’t be locked in anywhere. For all she knew this man might be taking her somewhere worse than the asylum.
It was possible, but the rational part of Louisa knew to dismiss the thought. She might not know his motivations, but Louisa’s instincts were that he was a good man. Maybe she would stick with him for a little while, just until she could make plans to be on her own.
Self-consciously Louisa wiped the last few tears from her cheeks and sat upright. As she wriggled free from Robert’s arms she felt strangely bereft. She’d been on her own so long that just that little bit of human contact had been world changing.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Louisa asked. ‘Sell me into slavery? Banish me to work in a travelling fair?’
He was too easy to poke fun at, that was the problem. Robert Fleetwood was a serious man, too serious for a man of his age. She wondered if he’d been in the war. He had a scar running down his left temple that looked as though it had been inflicted by a sword. She supposed it could have been from a duel, but he looked like a soldier. He had that upright bearing, serious mien and a haunted, faraway look in his eyes that suggested he’d left a bit of his soul on the battlefield.
‘You joke a lot,’ he said seriously.
‘I find when you’re incarcerated as a lunatic it helps if you can enjoy the funnier things in life. It does get rather dull otherwise.’
Robert shook his head. ‘It’s not that,’ he said. ‘You use it as your protection.’
Louisa felt stripped, naked. It was as though he’d looked inside her very being and found each and every one of her weaknesses. And he’d only known her for an hour.
‘I meant what I said back there, Louisa,’ he said seriously. ‘I’m not going to hurt you and I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.’
She allowed herself to hope, to dream. It was everything she’d ever wished for during her darkest hours at the asylum. A protector, a rescuer, someone who actually cared about her, but Louisa knew it was too good to be true. Life wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales, she’d found that out long ago. She might have dreamed about a protector, someone to rescue her, but she’d known she wouldn’t ever rely on anyone but herself again. Other people could hurt her, let her down. Even a knight in shining armour was too good to be true. No, Louisa had promised herself she would only ever depend on herself again, no matter how tempting the dream of someone to look after her had been.
‘Why are you helping me?’ she asked. It hadn’t mattered before, but now she was free she needed to know.
Robert sighed, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned. Louisa wondered what he looked like when he laughed. Handsome, she supposed, not that he wasn’t handsome when he was serious, but a smile would change his face to make him irresistible to the ladies. Real ladies, not lunatic paupers like her.
‘Eight weeks ago Thomas Craven died,’ he said slowly.
Louisa didn’t know how to react. The man who’d made her existence a misery, ruined her entire life, was dead. She felt a strange bubble of rage building inside her. It was as though she’d been robbed. She’d wanted to confront him, stand in front of him and tell him what an awful, wicked excuse for a guardian he was. Now she would never be able to.
‘As his closest living relative I inherited his estate.’
Slowly realization dawned on Louisa. Robert hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was her guardian. She’d assumed it was a ruse to trick Symes into letting her go.
‘So you actually are my guardian?’
He nodded. ‘The day before my great-uncle died he wrote a letter and sent it to me. In it he confessed to some awful wrongdoing on his part.’
Louisa sat paralysed, unable to move. She felt stunned.
‘He gave me your name and asked me to put right the wrong he did you.’
‘Did he tell you what he did?’ she asked urgently. ‘Did he say he’d had me locked up when I was completely sane?’
Robert shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Louisa felt the breath being sucked out of her. There was no proof, only her word, that she wasn’t insane. That was why Robert had studied her so intently back at the asylum. He was weighing her up, deciding whether to believe her at all.
‘So how did you find me?’
‘I visited my great-uncle’s estate and asked around. The servants were all very tight-lipped, but eventually someone talked. Said there was a big scandal and you were taken away to be locked up. My agent, Yates, has been scouring the country for you ever since.’
‘What happens now?’ Louisa asked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
‘I don’t know,’ Robert said with a rueful grin. ‘I’ve never been a guardian before.’
‘I can give you a few pointers on how not to do it,’ Louisa suggested, feeling some of her spirit returning to her. ‘I’ve had plenty of experience.’
Robert looked at her tenderly and Louisa felt her heart start to pound in her chest. She clenched her fists so she wouldn’t reach up and stroke his cheek. It would be entirely inappropriate. He was her guardian, her saviour, and no doubt he was still wondering if she was quite right in the head. What she was feeling was natural, Louisa reasoned, it was gratitude for his chivalrous rescue of her from the asylum. She forced herself to look away from his serious blue eyes or she knew she’d do something she would regret later.
Self-consciously Louisa stared down at her grubby hands and skinny arms. Her dress was shapeless and filthy, her hair hadn’t been cut or styled for over a year and she probably stank like a sewer rat. There was no way a man like Robert would find her attractive. And even after a bath and a change of clothes she wasn’t anything like the ladies he’d be used to. She’d spent her adult years festering in a cell or secluded in the country whilst her peers learnt to waltz around ballrooms and flirt with gentlemen. She was not fit to even fantasise about a man like Robert.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Robert asked.
Louisa desperately tried not to blush.
‘I was wondering whether I smelt better or worse than a rotting pig,’ Louisa said with a sunny smile, her defences back up. She took a sniff. ‘Worse, I fear.’
Robert leant forward so his face was only inches from hers. Louisa had to remind herself to breathe. He inhaled deeply.
‘Now I’m no connoisseur of rotting pigs,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think you smell as bad as you think you do.’
It was the strangest compliment she’d ever received.
‘We’ll get you a bath when we get home,’ he said.
Louisa immediately pictured Robert lathering her back as she luxuriated in a tub full of bubbles. The idea made her feel hot all over and she squirmed slightly. This was the last thing she needed: an infatuation with her guardian.
She settled back into the seat of the carriage and tried to look anywhere except at Robert. It was hard when her eyes were being so rebellious. Every few seconds she found herself staring at his face, watching the tiny changes in his expression.
‘Where do you live?’ Louisa asked, trying to use banal conversation to distract herself.
‘Here.’
The carriage rolled to a stop and Louisa glanced out. She nearly had a heart attack. It was one of the grandest London town houses she’d ever seen.
‘You can’t live here,’ she squeaked.
He regarded her strangely. ‘I can assure you I’ve lived here for the last two years,’ Robert said, ‘but I’m always up for suggestions for more comfortable accommodation.’
‘I can highly recommend the Lewisham Asylum.’
He turned serious again and took her by the shoulder. ‘I want you to forget that place, Louisa. I will do everything I can to make you forget it.’
Louisa saw the care and sincerity in his eyes and already the asylum seemed a long way away.
Chapter Three (#ulink_b6fb7ca9-36f3-5011-b3ca-6ca46d2dfb2a)
Robert glanced at the clock and tapped his fingers absent-mindedly on the arm of the chair. His years of service in the army had made him exceedingly punctual; he even turned up to dinner in his own house five minutes early.
Not that there was any rush, he thought, as he sipped from the glass of whisky in his hand. He’d planned for dinner this evening to be a very informal affair with just him and Louisa present. He didn’t want to scare her, and after eating slop from wooden bowls with her fingers for over a year he doubted Louisa would welcome company at her first civilised meal.
He glanced at the clock again, wondering if he should check on Louisa. He’d handed her over to his housekeeper, Mrs Kent, a couple of hours ago. The older woman had clucked over Louisa’s poor state and had whisked her upstairs to fuss over her.
A little bit of fussing would do Louisa some good, Robert thought. She’d been neglected for too long. He wondered if her experiences over the last few years had inflicted any permanent damage. Only someone with a very robust character would escape unscathed from a situation such as hers.
The door slowly swung open as Louisa stepped into the room.
Robert stood immediately, surprised by the difference a bath could make.
‘Good evening, Lord Fleetwood,’ Louisa said.
For a second Robert couldn’t find the right words. She looked completely different to the scrawny little ragamuffin he’d swept from the asylum and into his carriage earlier in the day. Granted she was still all skin and bones, but Mrs Kent had scrubbed Louisa’s skin until it was glowing, then must have turned her attention to Louisa’s hair. In place of the lank locks that had hung down Louisa’s back earlier in the day was a head of shining chestnut hair, secured into an elegant hairstyle.
The only thing that stopped Louisa looking like a young lady of the ton was the shapeless dress she’d had to borrow from Robert’s middle-aged and voluptuous housekeeper. It hung off her like a sack, but at least it was clean and not that awful grey garment she’d spent over a year wearing.
‘You look lovely,’ Robert said.
Louisa scrunched up her nose as if she didn’t believe him.
‘You do.’
And she did. Robert wasn’t in the habit of giving out compliments just for the sake of it.
‘It feels wonderful to be clean,’ Louisa said, fiddling with her hair self-consciously. ‘For the first time in longer than I can remember I smell of roses rather than cabbage.’
‘Shall we go in to dinner?’ Robert asked.
He held out his arm and waited for her to slip her hand into the crook of his elbow. She hesitated before stepping forwards and Robert realised he had a long way to go before Louisa trusted him. She was scared of even the briefest human contact. He’d seen her flinch on a couple of occasions since he’d brought her home, as if she was expecting him to raise a hand to her. Slowly, he cautioned himself, if you’re gentle she’ll start to trust you eventually.
He made sure no part of his body brushed against hers as he escorted her into dinner. He watched her face as he pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before sitting down himself. She was wary of every movement, but seemed to relax once he’d sat down.
‘We’ve got a lot to discover about each other,’ Robert said as the footman brought the first course to the table.
Louisa smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He supposed she was nervous of giving too much of herself away.
‘What you like to eat, for example.’
As she realised Robert wasn’t going to push her for more personal facts quite yet, Louisa relaxed.
‘I used to be rather fussy,’ she said, eyeing the bowl of soup in front of her. ‘My mama would despair at mealtimes.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t eat.’ After a mouthful of soup she added, ‘Except gruel. Serve that and I’m walking out.’
‘I’ll tell cook madam is not a fan of the gruel.’
‘Or porridge,’ Louisa added. ‘I do like this soup, though.’
Robert could tell she was holding back. She wanted to spoon the deliciously warm liquid into her mouth and not bother with any conversation, but even after a year locked away, her upbringing as a well-mannered young woman shone through.
‘What else do we have on the menu?’ Louisa asked, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.
Robert was glad—she needed to put some more flesh on her frame. A few weeks of good cooking and she’d be much healthier and able to face the world again.
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got no idea.’
Louisa frowned. ‘But it’s your house, isn’t it?’
He nodded.
‘Then how can you have no idea what’s for dinner.’
The truth was he had little interest in food. For years in the army he’d got used to eating whatever was available. More often than not it would be a sinewy rabbit or a watered-down stew. After a while he’d stopped noticing how the food tasted and had eaten it for sustenance only.
And since he’d returned from the war...well, nothing was the same, not even the fancy dinners he used to enjoy.
‘I let cook decide.’
Louisa looked at him as though he were mad.
‘Every night you could have anything, anything, you desire, and you let your cook decide.’
‘She does make very good choices,’ Robert said, motioning to the two empty bowls of soup the footman was whisking away.
‘Even so, I’d love to choose exactly what I was going to eat each and every day.’
Robert decided not to reveal he wouldn’t notice if it was a pheasant or a field mouse set down in front of him.
‘At the asylum we had gruel every day,’ Louisa said, surprising Robert with this little snippet of information, ‘and porridge for breakfast.’
Hence her dislike for gruel and porridge, he assumed.
‘And when I lived with my guardian he used to restrict my food if I did even the slightest thing wrong, but the servants often saved me a few scraps and leftovers.’
No wonder she’d devoured the soup as if it were her last meal on earth. Nine years of deprivation would do that to anyone.
‘Would you like to help Mrs Rust plan the meals for the next couple of weeks?’ Robert asked, surprising himself with the question.
For a second Louisa’s eyes lit up with excitement, then she became suspicious.
‘I’d love that,’ she said slowly, ‘if you truly are planning on keeping me around. But I’ll understand if you decide to sell me to that travelling fair. I am quite expensive to feed after all.’
The humour was back, her protective armour against the world.
Robert stopped himself from reaching out and taking her hand. He knew she wasn’t ready for that kind of contact yet. Instead, he leant forwards slightly and looked her in the eye.
‘You’re not going anywhere, Louisa,’ he said. ‘I’m your guardian and I promise you have a home here with me for as long as you want or need it.’
‘The last thing you want is a half-crazy penniless orphan getting in your way.’
This time Robert couldn’t stop himself reaching out to touch her, it was an automatic gesture.
‘You’re not crazy, Louisa,’ he said seriously.
And he believed what he was telling her. All his doubts from the asylum had been quashed a while ago. Louisa wasn’t insane, she was the victim of an awful old man’s plot to steal her inheritance.
‘Sometimes I feel it.’
It was said so quietly Robert barely heard her.
No, she wasn’t insane, Robert thought, but she’d been badly hurt by her experiences and he’d have to remember not to push her too hard.
‘You’re not crazy,’ he repeated, ‘and you need to stop telling yourself that you are.’
The footman chose that moment to bring in the main course. Robert lifted his hand from Louisa’s and sat back, watching as she tried to conceal her emotions.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Robert could tell Louisa was still thinking about his declaration and wondering if she could trust him. He knew the best thing to do was to give her time.
‘How will it work?’ she asked eventually.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You being my guardian, me living here. The whole thing.’
Robert could tell that how he answered her would be very important.
‘I’ve never been a guardian before,’ Robert said, buying himself some time to think. ‘I’m not sure what to do for the best.’
The military man in him perked up and Robert started to formulate a plan.
‘But I guess it all depends on you.’
Louisa leant forwards. He’d at the very least got her to engage.
‘For instance, would you prefer to live in town or the country?’
‘You have a house in the country?’ Louisa asked.
Robert thought of his extensive estate far away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
‘I have a house in the country,’ he confirmed.
She took another bite of beef and chewed whilst she thought.
‘I’ve never lived in London before,’ she said slowly. ‘At least not as a free woman.’
The Lewisham Asylum didn’t count.
‘Would you like to?’
‘I’d like to give it a go.’
‘Then why don’t we plan on spending a few weeks in London. I will have to employ a chaperone for you, a companion.’
Society would be scandalised at the thought of a gently bred young woman spending even a night alone in a house with a bachelor such as he, but Robert knew his servants would be discreet and he had no intention of telling anyone.
Louisa nodded, spearing a piece of carrot with her fork. She lifted it up to her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully.
‘Tomorrow we’ll visit the modiste and get you some clothes of your own,’ Robert said, looking at Mrs Kent’s sizeable dress.
The last thing he wanted to do was spend his days visiting dress shops and interviewing companions, but he felt as though he owed it to Louisa. If he palmed her off on some female friend, she would probably feel as though he was abandoning her. Not that he had any obliging female friends in any case, or many friends at all for that matter. The last few years he hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly.
No, he’d have to spend a bit of time helping Louisa settle into her new life. Once she was used to living as his ward and had a suitable companion he would be able to back off a little and return to his normal life.
The footman entered one final time, bringing dessert. Robert watched as Louisa’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fruit crumble that was placed in front of her.
‘Do you like fruit crumble?’ he asked.
Louisa nodded and Robert was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
‘It was my mother’s favourite,’ she said.
He didn’t know what to say. Louisa stared for a few long moments at the dish in front of her, then stood abruptly.
‘Please excuse me,’ she said, then fled the room.
Robert was left staring at the door, wondering whether he should go after her.
‘Best leave her for the night,’ Mrs Kent said as she watched Robert pace the hallway. ‘Poor duck has had a hectic day, I’m sure she’ll be happier in the morning.’
Robert glanced up the stairs one final time before retreating to his study. He’d never professed to understand women.
Chapter Four (#ulink_a65160e1-6aeb-552e-b8e4-65a1b3358ba0)
Louisa dried the tears from her cheeks and tested the door handle for the tenth time. It was strange not to be locked in and every few minutes she wondered if she’d imagined her freedom and just had to test the handle again.
The corridor outside her room was quiet. She’d listened as slowly the household had retired for the night and now she was sure she was the only one still awake. She looked left and right, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. There was no one there.
With one final glance into the bedroom Louisa stepped out into the corridor. As she crept along in the darkness she allowed her fingers to trail across the plush wallpaper, luxuriating in the expensive textures. Everything in this house was the polar opposite of the asylum, from the wallpaper and plush carpet to the kindness of the inhabitants. For a second Louisa hesitated. Maybe she was being foolish.
She probably was being foolish, but in her mind it was her only option. For a little while, during the delicious dinner Robert Fleetwood had given her, she’d allowed herself to dream. She’d wondered if he had meant everything he’d said: the promise of safety and security, the life of comfort as his ward. On first impressions he seemed a good man, an honest man, but despite all that Louisa knew she couldn’t stay with him.
She’d vowed to herself that if she ever escaped from the asylum she’d never be dependent on another human being again, and most especially not a man. Although in her darkest moments she’d dreamt of a man such as Robert coming to rescue her, Louisa knew fairy tales didn’t exist and she was better off relying only on herself. She had resigned herself to a lonely life, but loneliness was better than betrayal.
Silently she crept down the stairs, pausing every few steps to check no one else was stirring.
Louisa knew the streets of London were cruel and unforgiving to young women with no money or connections, but at least she would be dependent on no one but herself. She couldn’t bear growing close to Lord Fleetwood, starting to enjoy her new privileged lifestyle, only to have it ripped away again. It would be better never to experience it, to not know what that life could be like. Because it would be ripped away. It might be in a week or in a year, but Louisa knew that all good things in life didn’t last. One day, when she was least expecting it, her life would again be turned upside down.
Louisa reached the front door and quietly started to unlock it. Only a couple of minutes and she would disappear into the anonymity of the London streets. As she pulled the door open she wondered if she should leave a note for Lord Fleetwood, an explanation of why she had left, but decided against it. Although he might protest otherwise, Louisa doubted she was little more than an inconvenience to his ordered lifestyle. He’d saved her from the asylum and she didn’t doubt he was a good man, but he’d done it out of a sense of duty, to right the wrongs of his great-uncle. Within a few days she doubted she would even enter his thoughts.
Louisa wouldn’t forget him quite so quickly, though. Her knight in shining armour, the man who had actually believed she wasn’t insane and rescued her from a lifetime of misery locked in Lewisham Asylum. Louisa knew Robert Fleetwood’s face would grace her dreams for many nights to come.
She slipped out into the darkness and gently pulled the door closed behind her. As she heard the latch click she knew there was no going back now. Taking a deep breath, Louisa pulled the shawl Mrs Kent had lent her across her shoulders and walked down the steps. It was a chilly night, the sky was clear and cloudless and the air crisp, but Louisa was no stranger to cold. In the asylum the winter nights had been almost unbearable. More than once Louisa had thought she would perish from the icy temperatures alone.
With one final look at the house she’d felt most at ease in for the last nine years, Louisa hurried off down the street. It wouldn’t do to linger. Every second she remained, a little bit of her resolve weakened. She turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared into the night.
* * *
Robert woke up, gasping for air. The screams and shouts that had been haunting him in his dreams faded into the darkness, but he was left with a pounding heart and his muscles tensed, ready for action. He knew if he closed his eyes he would see the faces of his fallen comrades as clear as the day they had died. He might have come home from the war over two years ago, but the awful sights he had seen still haunted him at night.
Slowly he sat up in bed and reached for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand. It was tepid, but as the liquid hit his throat, Robert didn’t care—it was more about distracting himself from his nightmare than needing a glass of water.
He sank back down on to his pillows and lay staring up at the ceiling, knowing he would not get a wink more of sleep. Not that he wanted to. If he succumbed to the tiredness that flowed through him, making his eyes droop, he knew he would be right back on the battlefield, looking at the agonised faces of his friends as they took their last breaths.
As he lay in the darkness he listened to the sounds of the house. It was quiet outside. His closest neighbours on either side were elderly couples who didn’t attend any social events and his house was off the main thoroughfare so they didn’t get many passing carriages. Inside the house there was the occasional creak of wood, but it sounded as though all the servants had retired for the night.
Robert was contemplating getting up and heading down to his study to look over some papers when the distinctive click of the front door being closed came to his ears. He listened for any further sound, but the house was entirely silent.
Rising quickly from his bed, he strode over to the window and pulled back the curtains. He looked out into the moonlit street. Louisa was just turning away from the house, pulling a woollen shawl tighter around her shoulders and walking off down the street.
For a moment Robert froze as his mind tried to process what he was seeing. He couldn’t understand why Louisa was out in the street, leaving his house.
After a couple of seconds he sprang into action. In this instant it didn’t matter why she was leaving, it just mattered that she was. Or more specifically that she was out on the streets of London all on her own in the middle of the night. Even in a neighbourhood like this Robert doubted she’d survive more than an hour before she ran into trouble.
He pulled on a pair of trousers and threw a shirt over his head. The foolish woman would be a few streets away by now. He had to find her before she disappeared into the anonymous heart of London. Slipping his feet into a pair of boots, Robert threw open his door, dashed along the corridor and bounded down the steps. Within seconds he was out the front door and onto the street. He set off in the direction he’d seen Louisa take from his window.
When he reached the corner there was no sign of her and Robert felt a stab of panic. He couldn’t lose her already, this young woman he’d promised to protect. He couldn’t fail her.
He set off at a jog, all the time glancing left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Louisa in her shapeless grey dress.
A coach sat at the end of the road, the driver leaning back against his seat. For a moment Robert thought the man must be asleep and cursed under his breath.
‘Good evening, sir,’ the man said without moving as Robert slowed his pace. ‘Fine evening for a walk.’
‘Have you seen a young woman walk past?’ Robert asked, sparing no time for pleasantries.
‘Oh, yes, sir, not two minutes ago. Pretty little thing in an awful oversized dress. Shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at this time of night.’
‘Which way did she go?’
The driver scratched his chin and Robert had to fight the urge to reach up and pull him from the seat. Didn’t the man understand the urgency?
‘Turned left on to Poplar Street,’ he said eventually.
Without stopping to thank the man, Robert dashed off. He ran down the entire length of Poplar Street. As he was approaching the end he wondered if the coach driver had sent him the wrong way. Surely he should have caught a glimpse of Louisa by now. She’d had a few minutes’ head start, but there was no reason why she’d be hurrying. He’d practically been sprinting for the last few minutes.
A cold ball of dread started to form in the pit of his stomach. What if she’d been snatched from the street, dragged into an alleyway, her screams muffled? He couldn’t stop the image of Louisa being attacked from settling in his brain and he felt the anguish rip through him. Another person he hadn’t been able to protect, another life destroyed because of his inadequacies.
Suddenly he was once again back on the battlefield, the unmoving faces of his fallen men surrounding him. He felt the darkness start to take over and his body start to shake.
A high-pitched scream drew him back to reality. Louisa. It had to be. No other woman would be foolish enough to be wandering the streets at this time of night.
He started running in the direction of the scream, all the time hoping he wasn’t going to be too late.
Chapter Five (#ulink_83536fcc-07c6-5852-9987-893fa90d1973)
Louisa struggled against the hand that was pressed against her mouth, sinking her teeth into the fleshy palm. Her attacker pulled away from her for an instant and she took the opportunity to let out another scream.
‘Shut up,’ the man growled, slapping her across the face with such force her neck snapped back and her head hit the wall.
For an instant Louisa’s world went black. She fought the urge to let the darkness take over her, knowing she wouldn’t have a chance of escape if she lost consciousness.
As the world came back into focus Louisa opened her mouth to scream again, but quickly clamped her lips together as she saw the glint of light reflected off her attacker’s knife blade.
‘Good girl,’ the man murmured. ‘Just keep quiet and I won’t hurt you too much.’
Louisa very much doubted that. She didn’t know if this man planned to rob her or do something much, much worse, but she hoped she wouldn’t be around to find out.
She was just assessing whether she could outrun her attacker when a figure pounced from the shadows.
‘Oof,’ her attacker groaned as he received a fist to his abdomen.
Louisa backed away, glancing behind her and wondering if she should run. There was no guarantee her saviour was any nobler than the man he was now punching in the face.
She had just decided to make a run for it when a familiar voice growled, ‘Don’t even think of moving a muscle, Miss Turnhill.’
Her eyes widened with surprise. Her mysterious saviour, the man beating her attacker, was none other than Robert Fleetwood.
She didn’t disobey him.
The man who’d been attacking her managed to wriggle free from Robert’s grasp and without a backward glance scuttled off into the night.
Louisa was left alone in the alleyway with Robert.
Even in the darkness she could tell he was fuming.
‘I am going to escort you home,’ he said.
Louisa allowed him to tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and pull her along beside him. He walked fast, his long legs eating up the distance in no time. Louisa nearly had to run to keep up with him, taking two steps for his every one.
She glanced up at him as they walked. His jaw was clenched and his eyes focused straight ahead. He didn’t once look down at her.
Louisa opened her mouth to say something but immediately decided against it. She’d been scared in the alleyway, more scared than she’d ever been in her life. If she thought about it too much, she knew her legs would start to shake and give way beneath her. So instead she concentrated on keeping up with Lord Fleetwood.
* * *
It took only ten minutes to reach his house and within another thirty seconds they were behind a locked front door. Louisa was marched into Robert’s study and deposited unceremoniously on a comfortable leather sofa.
Still Robert did not speak. He crossed over to a decanter and poured himself a generous glass of whisky, which he downed in one gulp.
Then he turned to face her.
Louisa felt herself shrinking back in her chair. He was angry, furious even. She knew she was in trouble, but strangely she didn’t feel scared. At least not scared of him. Although she’d known Robert only a short time she somehow knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. He might shout and berate her for putting herself in such danger, but he wouldn’t actually physically hurt her.
‘Miss Turnhill,’ he started, ‘why don’t you talk me through your thought process when you decided it was a good idea to wander the streets of London in the middle of the night?’
Louisa swallowed. When he put it like that it did sound rather foolish. She’d been so preoccupied with leaving, with standing on her own two feet, she hadn’t thought through the consequences of her actions.
She cleared her throat and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.
‘I thought the exercise would do me good before bed,’ she tried to joke weakly.
The stony silence that met her comment was enough to tell her he wasn’t amused.
‘No more jokes, please. Tell me what possessed you to leave in the middle of the night?’
Louisa swallowed. ‘I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else,’ she said eventually.
He looked at her as though she’d grown an extra head.
‘So you thought you would take off in the middle of the night with no money and no means of supporting yourself.’
She had to agree it did sound a little foolish.
‘London is a dangerous city,’ Robert said in a low voice. ‘What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t followed you?’
Louisa felt her hands start to shake. She knew what would have happened. She doubted she would be alive now, or if she was she would probably be wishing she was dead. It was only luck that Robert had seen her leave and had followed her, and reached her in time to save her from her attacker.
She felt the tears building in her eyes and tried to hold then back.
‘I know what would have happened,’ Louisa said, her voice cracking as the tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Robert looked at her for a couple of seconds, but as the sobs started to rack her body Louisa felt him sit down beside her and suddenly she was in his arms.
Her body instinctively stiffened at the contact, but gradually she relaxed as he held her, glad of the comfort he provided. He made her feel safe, Louisa realised. In this world where it seemed everyone was out to hurt, her he protected her time and time again.
‘It’s okay,’ he said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’
Louisa sniffed and tried to stem the flow of tears, but found now she had started she just couldn’t stop.
‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’
In that instant Louisa was inclined to believe him. He’d saved her from the asylum and just now he’d saved her from her own foolishness.
With an effort she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She felt her fears slowly ebbing away as he held her, knowing somehow that with him she was safe, at least just for a while.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Robert seeming to understand she needed a little while to collect herself. As she dried the last of her tears, she felt him pull away slightly so she was still in his arms but could look up at his face.
‘We need to discuss what you’re afraid of,’ Robert said. ‘And this time I need you to be honest with me.’
Louisa nodded. She supposed she owed him that much at least.
‘I understand you haven’t been able to rely on anyone for a very long time and I know me asking you to trust me is an impossible task when you’ve known me for less than a day, but I do need you to at least be willing to see if I can earn your trust.’
She looked up into his sincere eyes and wondered for a second what would happen if she did just trust her life to this man. He seemed so genuine and caring, yet Louisa knew it would be a mistake to trust him. It would be a mistake to trust anyone, but maybe she could just give him a chance.
‘London is a very lonely city,’ he said with a sadness that made Louisa wonder again why he was quite so serious all the time. ‘And it is a dangerous city, especially for beautiful young women.’
She felt her pulse quicken at his description of her. Did he actually think she was beautiful or was he just being kind?
‘I would feel much happier if you would agree to stay here with me, under my protection,’ he said, ‘but I’m not going to force you to.’
She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
‘So I can leave at any time?’
He grimaced.
‘Yes, you can leave at any time, although I’d prefer it if you didn’t choose the middle of the night.’
‘You wouldn’t stop me?’ Louisa needed the confirmation.
‘I’m not going to lock you in, Louisa. I would much prefer it if you choose to stay, but if you want to go I will not protest.’
Louisa looked at him, still not quite able to believe what he was saying.
‘I suppose you think with no money and no contacts I have no choice but to stay.’
‘If you choose to go, I will give you money,’ Robert said. ‘Good God, Louisa, do you think I could let you go out on to the cruel streets of London without any means of supporting yourself? I’m not a monster.’
It was the first time since the asylum he’d called her by her first name. Louisa rather liked the sound of it coming from his lips.
‘You’d give me money?’ she echoed.
‘Yes. And contacts. But I really hope you decide to stay, at least for a little while.’
She thought it over. Part of her wanted to grab the money and go, start a new life not having to rely on anyone but herself. The other part was still scared from her first experience of London on her own.
‘If you do decide to stay, you can of course change your mind at any time,’ Robert said.
‘So I could stay for a week, but you’d still help me if I decided to leave after that?’
He nodded. Louisa felt torn. She looked up at Robert and searched his face. How could she tell if he would hurt her, if he would betray her trust at some point in the future? Everything she knew of him so far pointed towards him being honest and trustworthy, but how could she judge a man on such a short acquaintance?
‘Maybe I could stay for a couple of days,’ she said, ‘at least until I get to know London a little better.’
The relief that flooded over Robert’s face was obvious and Louisa dared to wonder if she had found someone who actually cared for her. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him. His lips looked so inviting and the way he held her made her feel so safe and secure.
Stop it, she told herself, do something like that and he’ll march you out the door himself.
Still, Louisa couldn’t quite make herself look away.
She was suddenly very aware of every place his body was touching hers: the way their thighs were pressed up against one another, the bare skin of his arms looped around her back and how her body was cradled against his chest.
Louisa watched his face as he registered her desire for him and for an instant she thought he might lean in and kiss her. His eyelids seemed to grow heavy and Louisa thought she saw the flash of desire brighten in his eyes.
As quickly as the moment had come, it passed and Louisa was left wondering if she’d imagined it. Robert stood and paced to the window, a hand running through his hair.
Louisa felt suddenly bereft. She wasn’t used to such close contact, but it seemed she missed it when it was gone.
‘You should get some rest,’ Robert said, his voice thick and directed towards the window. ‘Just promise me you won’t leave again tonight.’
She owed him that much at least.
‘I promise,’ she said quietly. Standing from the sofa Louisa crossed to the window and waited until Robert turned to face her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, looking Robert directly in the eye. ‘You’ve saved me twice in the space of twenty-four hours.’
She stood on tiptoe and planted a light kiss on his cheek, her lips brushing momentarily against the fine stubble, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine.
Louisa didn’t wait to see his reaction, instead turned and walked from the room, knowing she would probably dream of this quiet, serious, chivalrous man when she eventually fell asleep.
Chapter Six (#ulink_e3201c24-a888-58ae-9819-c2b86321efaf)
Robert sipped at the scalding cup of coffee and tried to focus on the newspaper he held in front of him. He’d been attempting to read the same article for the last fifteen minutes and he hadn’t got past the first paragraph. Every few seconds he would find himself glancing at the door, wondering if and when Louisa was going to show up for breakfast.
He’d recovered from the scare she’d given him the night before and he thought she would probably decide to stay with him for the time being. Robert told himself it was just friendly concern that made him look up from his newspaper every time there was a creak in the hallway, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true.
There had been a moment in his study last night, just as Louisa had agreed to stay for a while at least, when she’d swayed towards him. Her body had been pressed up against his after he’d cradled her in his arms for comfort. He’d become aware of her womanly curves under the sack-like dress and a flicker of desire had ignited within him. For a second he had nearly given in to his desires. Robert was certain Louisa had leant towards him ever so slightly and it would have been so easy to bend his head and cover her mouth with his own.
Easy but disastrous. Louisa was his ward, a young woman who had been through so much in the last few years. She didn’t deserve to be pounced upon by her new guardian within hours of meeting him. And even if the attraction was mutual, it was still very bad idea. Robert had not been with a woman for a very long time. Not since...
With a gargantuan effort Robert dragged his thoughts away from that catastrophic night. The night he’d lost his best friend in the entire world and most of the men under his command. All because of a woman. No, he wasn’t going to allow himself to get involved with anyone ever again. It was the least he could sacrifice for the men whose deaths weighed on his conscience.
Robert was distracted from his dark train of thought by the opening of the door. Louisa edged into the room and stood nervously in the doorway. He realised she wasn’t quite sure how to behave in his house yet.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said, motioning to the seat beside him. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Wonderfully,’ she said with a sunny smile.
He studied her carefully, wondering if she was joking. After their midnight dash through the neighbourhood Robert hadn’t slept a wink. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d lain awake listening for Louisa’s footsteps, wondering if she would disappear into the night again, or if it was the knowledge that if he fell asleep the nightmares would return. This morning he felt haggard.
Louisa, by contrast, looked fresh and ready for the day.
‘Are you ready for our shopping trip today?’ Robert asked. If she was ever going to be seen out in public, she needed something suitable to wear and his housekeeper’s dress really wasn’t good enough.
Louisa looked down at her dress and ran the coarse material through her fingers.
‘I’ve grown rather fond of baggy grey dresses,’ she said with a grin. ‘It would be a shame to change my style now.’
‘And it is quite a style.’
He watched as she tucked into her breakfast and wondered whether this shopping trip was a good idea. He couldn’t deny she needed some new clothes. The dress she’d worn home from the asylum had been consigned to the bin and she couldn’t continue borrowing Mrs Kent’s dresses. No, he knew she needed to go shopping, but he wasn’t sure he was the one who should be going with her. If he’d found her attractive in the shapeless grey dress last night, he dreaded to think what response she might elicit from him as she paraded up and down in silks and satins.
Robert shook his head almost imperceptibly. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, not a young boy unused to controlling his emotions. For years he’d been able to maintain a stony exterior, hide what he was really feeling from the world. Compared to that, concealing a modicum of attraction for Louisa should be child’s play.
‘Why don’t we meet in half an hour?’ Robert said, standing to leave. ‘That will give you enough time to enjoy your breakfast.’
Louisa turned to him with a smile on her face. ‘I’m very much looking forward to today,’ she said.
Robert nodded, then beat a hasty retreat, not trusting himself to say a word.
* * *
Twenty-five minutes later Robert was standing in the hall, waiting for Louisa. He resisted the urge to check the clock again, knowing she would probably have interpreted his half-hour rendezvous time as flexible. Not everyone was as punctual to the minute as he was.
‘So where are we going?’ Louisa asked as she descended the staircase, a skip in her step. Robert thought she seemed more relaxed today and he knew his assurance she could leave at any time had helped her to trust him just a little more.
‘There is a modiste not too far from here,’ Robert said. ‘I’m told she’s one of the best in the city.’
‘Wonderful, I wouldn’t want anything less than the best. I am used to garments made of the finest fabrics and designed by the most talented dressmakers.’
Robert was slowly getting used to her sense of humour and even found himself smiling.
‘I’m not sure we can quite match the quality of the clothes you’re used to, but we can only try.’
He led her out to the carriage that waited for them at the bottom of the steps and took her hand in his to help her up. Her fingers were warm against his skin and Robert found himself holding on for just a little longer than was strictly necessary.
Once she was settled, he bounded up into the carriage and took the seat opposite her. They moved off almost immediately.
For a few minutes they travelled in silence. Robert watched Louisa as she stared out the window at all the grand houses. She was a little awestruck, but as they neared their destination he could tell she was becoming increasingly nervous. Although the expression on her face didn’t change, she was absent-mindedly wringing her hands together. Robert’s best friend, Greg Knapwell, had done the same thing before each and every battle they’d fought together.
He tried to work out why she was quite so nervous; it was only a dress shop after all. Then he realised she probably hadn’t ever been to a dress shop before.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ he said quietly.
Louisa spun to face him. ‘Why do you think I’m afraid?’
‘When I was in the army, a friend of mine used to wring his hands together before we went into battle, very much like you’re doing now.’ Robert surprised himself with his answer. He never talked about the war if he could help it. And if he was asked questions by some simpering debutante who thought he was ‘ever so brave’, he always answered in the vaguest terms possible. He didn’t think he had voluntarily brought the subject of the war up in the two years since he’d returned to England.
Louisa looked at him silently with her big brown eyes and Robert felt as though she were looking deep into his soul.
‘You lost your friend didn’t you?’ she asked eventually.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
‘I’m sorry. It must seem silly to you, my being afraid of visiting a shop, after all you and your friends went through.’
‘No,’ Robert said, ‘it’s not silly. Being nervous of the unknown is the most natural response in the world.’
‘You must find everyday fears a little ridiculous, though,’ Louisa said.
Wordlessly he shook his head, knowing he couldn’t tell her sometimes he was afraid to go to sleep, knowing the nightmares could start as soon as he allowed his mind to drift into oblivion.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of today,’ he said, steering the conversation away from himself. ‘I’ll be with you all the time.’
‘Surely not all the time,’ Louisa teased.
‘Well, not far away,’ Robert said, his voice gruff.
‘I worry what people will think of me.’
‘Don’t.’
He’d stopped caring what people thought when he realised he’d lost most of the people who mattered to him.
‘That’s your advice?’ Louisa asked. ‘Just don’t?’
‘That’s my advice.’
She grinned and turned back to the window. Robert was pleased to see she’d stopped wringing her hands together.
The carriage halted in front of a large shopfront and Robert watched as Louisa’s eyes widened in amazement.
He quickly hopped down from the carriage and once again held out his hand to help Louisa down. This time he didn’t let go, but tucked her hand into his elbow and escorted her inside.
They were met by a smiling woman who bobbed into a curtsy as soon as they walked inside. She looked from Robert to Louisa and back again, the confusion showing on her face. She had obviously seen the grand carriage stop outside the shop but was puzzled she did not know the mismatched couple who descended from it.
‘Welcome, sir, madam,’ she said.
‘I’m Lord Fleetwood,’ Robert said, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in recognition of the name, ‘and this is my ward, Miss Louisa Turnhill.’
‘It’s an honour to meet you both.’
‘Miss Turnhill has come to stay with me, but unfortunately all her clothes were destroyed in a fire.’
‘All of them?’ the modiste asked in disbelief.
‘All of them,’ Robert confirmed.
‘My name is Mrs Willow, this here is Lucy,’ the woman said as a young shopgirl stepped forward. ‘And this is Prudence,’ she added as another girl bobbed a curtsy. ‘We would be delighted to be of assistance.’
Robert stepped back as the three women crowded around Louisa and bustled her farther into the shop. He found a comfortable chair, placed so that he had a good view of the proceedings but was tucked out of the way.
‘How many items would you like to order for today?’ Mrs Willow asked.
Louisa glanced back over her shoulder at Robert.
‘Oh, just the one,’ she said.
‘She means one to wear away today,’ Robert corrected her from his position in the corner, ‘and six more to order.’
All four women looked at him in shock.
‘Of course, sir,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘And would these all be daytime dresses?’
Again Louisa looked at him for guidance.
‘For now, yes, let’s focus on the daytime,’ he said. ‘But if you keep her measurements, then we can order evening gowns at some point in the future.’
‘And what colours do you favour, Miss Turnhill?’
‘Anything but grey,’ Louisa said, smiling. ‘The brighter the better.’
Robert watched as Louisa was led round the shop and roll after roll of material was presented to her. She seemed to come alive with every minute as she discussed the luxury of one material and compared it to the comfort of another. He could hardly believe this was the same scared young woman he’d found in a cell in Lewisham Asylum just yesterday.
Every so often Louisa would glance his way, uncertain about a decision, and Robert would give her an encouraging smile. He liked that a small gesture from him was enough to give her the confidence she needed to prosper in such an unfamiliar setting.
‘So we have decided on materials and colours,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘Now we have to decide on style.’
Louisa was led behind a curtain by the two young shopgirls. Every few minutes Mrs Willow would carry another dress behind the curtain.
‘What do you think?’ Louisa asked shyly.
Robert looked up and felt his breath catch in his chest.
Louisa looked at him nervously, biting her bottom lip. Robert knew he had to say something, but suddenly his words had deserted him.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said eventually.
Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. She looked stunning. He hadn’t been able to even begin to imagine what had lain under the shapeless sacks he’d seen her in before. Now it was laid out for everyone to see. The dress nipped in at her slender waist and skimmed over her hips and the upper half accentuated her cleavage to maximum effect. Robert felt a sudden and unexpected stab of jealousy. He didn’t want anyone else seeing her like this.
He told himself to stop being so ridiculous. She wasn’t his to covet. She was his ward and he should be pleased she was so delighted with her new appearance.
‘I feel like a different person,’ Louisa said quietly.
As she smiled Robert knew it was a smile just for him and he felt the first stirrings of desire wake inside him. When she was happy, genuinely happy, she glowed.
The four women looked at him expectantly and Robert realised he’d cleared his throat in an effort to take control of himself. They were expecting him to say something.
‘The colour suits you,’ he ventured. He wasn’t an expert on fashion or materials, but no one could deny the emerald-green complemented Louisa’s chestnut hair and deep brown eyes exquisitely.
‘We’ll take it,’ Robert said to Mrs Willow. ‘That’s if you would like it.’
He turned back to Louisa and saw the hope burn in her eyes, but something was holding her back.
Discreetly Mrs Willow ushered the two shopgirls away so Robert and Louisa could converse in private.
‘What’s wrong?’ Robert asked. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I love the dress,’ Louisa answered. ‘And I love how it makes me feel. It’s just...’ She trailed off.
Robert smiled at her encouragingly.
‘It’s just I don’t know if I can afford it.’
Robert frowned.
‘I think Mr Craven spent most of my inheritance and I haven’t exactly been able to earn a living this last year.’
‘You’re my ward, Miss Turnhill,’ Robert said slowly. ‘It is my legal obligation to provide you with clothes and food and shelter.’
He saw her face drop at being called his ‘legal obligation’.
‘What’s more, it is my pleasure to buy this dress for you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She said it with such sincerity he knew she appreciated him not treating her as solely his duty.
Louisa took a step closer to him and for a second Robert thought she was about to embrace him. He felt a rush of pleasure surge through his body. Every single part of him knew touching Louisa would be a bad idea, but still he desired it.
The disappointment he felt when Louisa merely smiled at him was acute, but he forced himself to smile back.
‘We’ll take this dress as it is,’ Robert called to Mrs Willow. ‘It seems to fit her well. I’ll send someone to pick up the others in a couple of days.’
‘Very good, sir.’
Robert did not want to examine his reaction to Louisa in detail. He knew his newfound attraction towards her was wrong on so many levels. Maybe it was natural, he told himself. She was a good-looking woman who had been transformed into a beautiful butterfly in front of his eyes. And he was a man who had denied himself any sort of female companionship for so long. Perhaps his attraction towards her was to be expected. After all, she was the first woman he’d spent any sort of time with in the last two years.
Robert could only hope that was all it was. The last thing he needed was to desire any woman, let alone the one he was legally bound to until she came of age.
Chapter Seven (#ulink_fc5631ac-a268-5d10-920a-ced19360965a)
Louisa felt transformed. It was amazing how something as insignificant as a dress could make her feel like a real woman, not some crazy orphan who had been stuck in an asylum for the last year.
She glanced at Robert. He hadn’t said a word whilst the last few adjustments were being made to her dress, but she’d felt his eyes on her.
She couldn’t quite work out what his motivations were. He’d just spent rather a lot of money on making her look respectable and, more importantly, making her happy.
Louisa had been well loved by her parents. She had fond memories of shopping trips with her mother and indulgent presents from her father, but since their deaths she hadn’t received a single gift. Christmas had been a spartan affair with Mr Craven and she hadn’t even known what day it was to celebrate her birthday whilst she was locked in the asylum. Now here was Robert, a man she’d known for only a day, willing to spend money on making her happy.
‘Thank you,’ she said again as they left the shop, Louisa feeling like a new woman in her emerald-green dress.
Her gratitude was genuine, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. She didn’t understand why Robert was being so kind to her.
‘Why are you being so nice?’ she asked as they reached the carriage.
He paused before he turned to face her. ‘Nice?’ he asked, as if confused by her choice of word.
‘Yes, nice. How else would you describe how you’ve acted towards me?’
‘I’ve done what any man in my position would.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘My last guardian kept me prisoner in his house and stole all my inheritance.’ She shuddered. He’d done more than that, worse things, things she didn’t want to remember.
‘It’s what any decent man in my position would do.’
Maybe that was it, Louisa thought. Maybe he was a decent man. She hadn’t known many in her life.
‘You’ve taken me into your home, welcomed me into your life,’ she said. ‘That’s above the call of duty.’
‘After everything you’ve been through I could hardly send you off to live with some dreary relative in the country,’ Robert said.
‘I must have disrupted your entire life.’
He didn’t say anything. Once again Louisa wondered about his past. He hadn’t really told her anything about himself. Not that he had to, Louisa was just curious.
‘I’m sure I can take a few days out of my normal schedule until we get you settled.’
Louisa nodded. She hadn’t really thought much about the future. Only a few hours ago she’d been determined to set out on her own, disappear into the anonymous streets of London. After their talk Louisa had decided to give Robert and the life he was offering her a chance. If something went wrong, he’d promised he would let her leave and even help her with her independence. She hadn’t thought much past that.
The problem was Louisa still couldn’t quite believe she wouldn’t soon wake up from a dream and find herself back in the asylum. Her life had changed so much in such a short time.
‘Can we go for a stroll?’ Louisa asked.
Robert looked from her to the carriage, then nodded in agreement.
They set off down the street arm in arm and Louisa felt like a normal young woman out for a walk with her guardian. She wanted this moment to last for ever.
‘I know we have a lot to discuss,’ she said, ‘but can we pretend to be normal just for a little while?’
‘You don’t need to pretend, Louisa,’ he said. ‘Where would you like to go?’
She contemplated for a couple of seconds. ‘It’s a beautiful day—maybe a walk in the park? If there’s anywhere suitable nearby.’
Robert took his pocket watch from his jacket and glanced at the time. Louisa wondered if he had somewhere else to be and almost told him she didn’t mind going back to the house, not if he had other engagements.
‘How about a stroll through Hyde Park?’ Robert asked.
Louisa smiled. She couldn’t think of anything more appealing.
‘I’ve never been to a park in London before,’ she said as they walked arm in arm down the wide pavement. ‘I’ve never really been anywhere in London before, apart from the asylum.’
‘Your parents didn’t bring you here when you were young?’
Louisa shrugged. ‘I suppose we must have visited once or twice, but I don’t really remember.’ She felt the pang of sadness she always did when thinking of her parents. ‘You don’t realise at the time that every moment is to be treasured, do you?’ she said quietly. ‘Otherwise you’d make an effort to remember more.’
Robert stayed silent, but she felt the empathy emanating from him.
‘What do you recall about them?’ he asked after a couple of minutes.
Louisa hadn’t talked about her parents for so long. No one had been interested for so many years and if someone did bring up the subject she normally felt too upset to say much. Today, however, she wanted to talk. She wanted to tell Robert how she remembered her mother’s laugh and her father’s compassion. How her mother used to read to her before tucking her into bed and her father would whisk her up in front of him and teach her to ride on the back of his trusty horse.
‘They were happy,’ Louisa said. ‘Every day was filled with laughter and sunshine and smiles.’
‘It must have been a wonderful childhood.’
‘It was.’ Louisa knew she’d been lucky in her early years. Too many of her peers had absent fathers and downtrodden mothers. But Louisa had seen what true love could bring to a marriage. ‘I can’t ever remember being unhappy whilst my parents were alive.’
Robert remained quiet, allowing her to remember the happiness she’d felt for just a few moments longer.
‘It was some mysterious illness that killed them,’ Louisa said, surprising herself at how easy it was to open up to Robert. ‘The doctors didn’t know how they’d caught it or what it was, but one day they were both happy, healthy people in the prime of their lives and the next they were fighting a deadly illness.’
‘You didn’t get it?’ Robert asked.
Louisa shook her head and felt the tears welling in her eyes. ‘My father fell ill first of all, but when my mother succumbed she forbade my nanny from taking me to see her, knowing I would be in danger if I spent even a few moments in her room.’
‘So you didn’t see them before they passed away?’
Louisa paused. She’d seen them, and sometimes she saw them still in those quiet moments just before she dropped off to sleep.
‘I sneaked into their bedroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t understand why they’d kept me away.’ To this day Louisa could still remember the hideously sweet smell of the sickroom. ‘My father was quiet, I think he was very close to the end, but my mother was writhing and moaning.’
Louisa had screamed, thinking someone was torturing her mother, not understanding she was in the grip of a fever making her delirious.
‘I was bundled out, but I screamed and screamed until they let me back in the room. By that time my mother had settled and was sleeping fitfully.’
‘That was the last time you saw them?’ Robert asked softly.
Louisa nodded. ‘I kissed them both on the cheek and told them I would see them at breakfast. They were dead by the next morning.’
‘It must have been the end of your world.’
Louisa nodded. Robert seemed to understand her distress. She didn’t know what it was about him that made him so easy to talk to. She hadn’t told anyone about the last time she’d seen her parents before. Partly because no one had been interested, but also because she didn’t want anyone to see her so vulnerable. Even though she’d only known Robert for a short while Louisa had known he wouldn’t belittle her memory of her parents or the last time she’d seen them. He’d understand why it had been quite so harrowing.
‘When you lose someone you’re close to it leaves a gulf,’ he said slowly, ‘that never heals. In time we learn to bury that gulf, but it’s always there, under the surface.’
He said it with such compassion Louisa knew he was talking from personal experience.
She hoped he might elaborate. She desperately wanted to know more about this man who had saved her from a lifetime of misery, but at the moment she didn’t feel as though she could just come out and ask him. She knew he had been in the army, and that he’d lost a friend in the war, that much he’d let slip earlier on in the carriage, but other than that Louisa was pretty much in the dark as to Robert’s past.
‘So how did Thomas Craven become your guardian?’ he asked.
Louisa grimaced as she thought back to the first time her old guardian had shown up in her life.
‘I didn’t have any other relatives,’ Louisa said, trying not to think about how different her life would have been if she’d had a kindly aunt or grandparent left alive. ‘Mr Craven was my father’s business partner.’
Robert nodded, encouraging her to go on.
‘I hardly knew him. He came into our lives about six months before my parents died and convinced my father to invest in some scheme or another.’
‘But why did your parents make this man they hardly knew your guardian?’
Louisa shrugged. In truth she didn’t really know. She’d been so young at the time.
‘In the few months before my parents died he was around the house a lot. He stayed with us on numerous occasions. And he always made a show of fussing over me.’
‘Your parents trusted him?’
She nodded. ‘From what Mr Craven let slip over the years when he was inebriated, he’d worked hard to gain their trust. He thought they would leave him money in their will. He never even considered they would put me into his care.’
‘But your parents were so young, much younger than Craven. He shouldn’t even have thought about inheriting from them.’
Tears sprung to Louisa’s eyes. It was something she’d not been able to ignore over the years, but a question she knew she would never know the answer to.
‘Sometimes, when I’ve been particularly low, I’ve wondered how much of a role Mr Craven played in my parents’ deaths,’ she said slowly, wondering if Robert would think her crazy.
He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes. Instead he seemed to consider the idea carefully.
‘It does seem suspicious,’ he agreed. ‘It sounds as though Thomas Craven ingratiated himself with your parents, but with his death we’ll probably never know whether that was purely to get money out of them whilst they were alive or whether he had a more sinister motive.’
Louisa found herself nodding in agreement. It felt reassuring to have Robert beside her, supporting her and agreeing with her. For years she’d wondered what exactly had transpired between her parents and Mr Craven. She’d known she had no other relatives, but Mr Craven must have been a good actor to convince her parents he was a suitable guardian for their only child.
‘I just wish I had had an hour with him,’ Louisa said quietly, ‘to confront him and to force him to answer my questions.’
Robert squeezed her arm gently and Louisa felt his strength flowing into her. She had to accept she would never have answers. She would never know why her parents chose Mr Craven as her guardian and she would never know whether he had been involved in their deaths. In the past the uncertainty had upset her immeasurably, but today, with Robert beside her, Louisa felt herself letting go a little. Now was the time to look forward, not back. She might never have the answers to her questions, but she had her freedom and she had her entire life stretching out in front of her.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Louisa glanced sideways at Robert every few seconds. She wanted to know more about him. Just as she was plucking up the courage to ask Robert a little about himself, he paused and pointed to a gateway.
‘Hyde Park, Miss Turnhill. The first of many London parks I promise to take you to.’
The park was quiet at this time, only a few young children with their nannies running around on the grass and one or two groups of young ladies strolling under parasols.
‘We shouldn’t meet anyone at this time,’ Robert said as he guided her into the park.
Louisa realised that was why he’d checked his pocket watch earlier; he hadn’t wanted them to bump into anyone. She wondered if he were ashamed of her, but quickly dismissed the thought. It would have been easy to send her off to some far-flung corner of England, far away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of society, but instead he’d kept her here in London. No, Robert Fleetwood wasn’t ashamed of her, she thought it more likely he wanted to protect her from having to answer any awkward questions.
It felt strange to Louisa to have someone looking out for her. For years she’d only been able to depend upon herself. She didn’t think she would ever get used to someone else worrying about her welfare.
‘You have a very tough decision to make now, Miss Turnhill.’ Robert turned to her with a grave expression on his face.
Louisa’s heart dropped. She’d been enjoying not thinking about her circumstances for a few minutes.
‘You need to choose whether you’d like to go and take a stroll around the Serpentine or sample the delicious new delicacy all society are talking about: flavoured ices.’
Louisa pretended to consider her decision very carefully. ‘Are you sure I have to decide?’ she asked.
‘This is your outing, Miss Turnhill, your wish is my command.’
‘Then I wish to do both.’
Robert smiled one of his rare smiles and Louisa caught a glimpse of the carefree young man he must have once been. Again she wondered what had happened during the war to make him quite so serious and withdrawn, but she knew now wasn’t the right time to ask. They were having an enjoyable morning in the park and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.
They strolled arm in arm around the Serpentine. Every few minutes Robert would impart some bit of knowledge about the park or London, and Louisa would listen with interest. She loved the way he spoke, he seemed so knowledgeable about so many things. Louisa’s own education had been cut short—Mr Craven hadn’t thought it necessary to continue her lessons after her parents had died. Although she’d read hundreds of the dusty books in the old man’s library, it wasn’t the same as a formal education.
She realised she must seem completely uneducated to Robert.
He’d stopped at the water’s edge and together they stared out across the still water.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Louisa said, glancing at Robert. ‘I feel so lucky, being here with you.’
She turned to face him and felt the emotion welling up inside her.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for giving me a chance to experience the world for myself. Even if I was taken back to the asylum today I’d never forget the time we’ve spent together.’
Robert slowly turned to look at her and Louisa felt her breath catch in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.
‘This is your right, Louisa. Every experience and every new sight is something you deserve to have.’
Louisa felt her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. His words were said so passionately she understood how he had led troops into battle; she would follow him anywhere in this instant.
For seconds their eyes remained locked together. Louisa felt her body sway instinctively towards his and the gap between them closed.
She could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, just as much as she wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t move.
Louisa felt the confusion wash over her. She wanted him so much, she wanted him to devour her with his mouth, to lay her down on the grass and cover her body with his own. Never before had she known such a strong physical attraction to someone. Yet at odds with the primal urge she had whenever she looked at him was the small voice in the back of her head telling her to run, to get as far away from the generous man with the serious eyes as possible. Falling for him could only bring trouble. He would hurt her just like everyone else, no matter how kind and caring he seemed now.
Despite a myriad of doubts Louisa still wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his lips on her skin and shudder as he ran his fingers all over her body.
For a second she thought he was going to do just that. His eyes darkened and his breathing became a little heavier. Louisa held her breath.
‘Lord Fleetwood.’
Both Louisa and Robert jumped and took a step back.
‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’
Chapter Eight (#ulink_d7c836c2-d458-5dea-9fce-d85a64ba9040)
Robert couldn’t answer immediately; his brain had gone on an unscheduled holiday and left a mindless idiot in charge. He’d almost kissed Louisa. Again. Once was bad enough, but twice was unforgivable. And in a public park for anyone to see.
He forced himself to drag his eyes away from Louisa’s delectable mouth and turned to face the woman who was addressing him.
‘Mrs Knapwell,’ Robert said, his heart growing heavy as he realised who had interrupted them.
‘It’s delightful to see you, Lord Fleetwood, it’s been so long.’
Robert nodded, not able to find his voice.
‘And you’re looking so well.’
He grimaced. He didn’t feel well at all.
‘I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced,’ Mrs Knapwell said, turning to Louisa.
‘This is Miss Louisa Turnhill, my ward,’ Robert said stiffly.
‘Your ward?’ It was said with such incredulity that Robert had to suppress a smile. ‘I didn’t realise you had a ward.’
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Laura Martin
FROM THE DARKEST OF SHADOWS…After a year wrongfully imprisoned in an asylum, Louisa Turnhill can’t believe it when Robert, Lord Fleetwood, arrives to rescue her. As her new guardian, he’s there to take Louisa to his London townhouse – and a different life. … TO THE DAZZLING WORLD OF THE TON Thrust into an unknown world of debutantes and balls, Louisa starts to put her trust in Robert. But his life is tainted with darkness too, and with Society’s eyes upon them will they ever be able to shake off the secrets that once lurked behind locked doors?
‘I want to take you away from here, Louisa,’ he said eventually. ‘I want to take you somewhere safe whilst I figure out exactly what’s happened.’
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Robert surmised that she hadn’t had much reason to trust people in the last few years. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively and started to hunch into herself.
‘I promise I won’t hurt you,’ Robert said, kneeling down in front of her and gently taking her hand. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.’
She flinched as his skin touched hers, not pulling her hand away but cowering a little, as if she expected him to hit her.
‘Trust me,’ he said quietly.
Louisa regarded him for almost a minute in silence, staring into his eyes, and Robert felt as though she’d studied his soul. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
AUTHOR NOTE (#ulink_91d28564-29ca-52f4-a50f-36609d882ae0)
Ever since I can remember I have been fascinated by the workings of the mind: what makes one person thrive whilst another will be made to withdraw. One thing that has particularly intrigued me is how society’s perception of mental illness has changed over time. This is demonstrated perfectly by our treatment of those suffering from mental illness. Hundreds of years ago such people were shunned by society and cast out of their communities. In the Regency period common practice was to lock away anyone with unexplainable behaviour and pretend they didn’t exist. This led to an increase in the number of unregulated and unlicenced institutions where the unfortunate inmates received no rehabilitation or medical care, worsening their conditions. Stories abound about unfortunate individuals discarded in asylums by their relatives who, despite having no reason to lock them up, wished to gain from their disappearance.
Another psychological theme runs through this book. For centuries men have fought in wars which have left mental as well as physical scars. The symptoms of shell-shock, or post-traumatic stress disorder, have only recently been recognised as a consequence of the strains that battle places upon the psyche. However, the soldiers of the Napoleonic wars would have been subject to many of the same stresses as soldiers of today. SECRETS BEHIND LOCKED DOORS explores how such mental scars can be a barrier between the sufferer and the wider world. In writing a character with some features of PTSD I hoped to portray how the disorder can impact on every aspect of life—including love.
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LAURA MARTIN writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel—especially visiting historical sites and far-flung shores.
For Dad, for all the inspiration and encouragement. And for Luke. I couldn’t do it without you.
Contents
Cover (#ud1d5d4a0-4c62-5440-9c60-4dfb8ee8a6f4)
Introduction (#uf34a863c-7389-55d7-b972-fe5920ee2cb1)
Author Note (#u1eaf74bc-57c3-51cd-80ca-bee574023f54)
Title Page (#u0157ab47-0a00-56ad-b7e6-f4c66c2286eb)
About the Author (#u652c13cd-50a0-5d2c-adda-eb4fd03d3bb8)
Dedication (#u548bb0c1-c59d-5db3-a38c-88318a7d5eee)
Chapter One (#uc3d367d7-6ad7-57e7-a293-4e5227b90fb3)
Chapter Two (#ua819d7d9-c9bb-57ae-85ec-72111d2db069)
Chapter Three (#ua917929a-6f03-5a92-b996-baf0e41b0858)
Chapter Four (#ub5e81032-2510-52b6-8825-998bb1aee3ba)
Chapter Five (#u6da1991b-2ccf-5e06-bb99-a1b19f192f37)
Chapter Six (#u28b2f0ef-d577-5db5-a8a9-919969d68b59)
Chapter Seven (#u8586e8c8-72ff-564f-b04d-fa24ca51018f)
Chapter Eight (#uc238ae29-7339-5f7e-8efb-13a8f903777e)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_972ee741-5ad0-58b9-9f08-2e683185c98b)
Robert fought the urge to turn around and flee. He wasn’t a man who had ever run from anything. Six years he’d fought in the army and he’d never backed down from a fight, but right now his courage was deserting him.
‘Ready, sir?’ asked Yates, his agent, apparently oblivious to his discomfort.
Robert nodded, raised his hand and knocked on the imposing front door.
The stench hit him as soon as he walked inside. It was a mixture of sweat and cabbage and something else he didn’t even want to guess at. He wondered how the staff coped with it, the smell permeating their clothes and lingering as they returned home to their families. At least they could return home though, he supposed. Some of the inmates wouldn’t ever leave the confines of the Lewisham Asylum; they’d spend long years cooped up in the dreary rooms with only their screams for company.
‘Lord Fleetwood—’ a grubby little man hurried out to greet them ‘—it is such an honour to meet you. I’m Symes, the humble proprietor of this establishment.’
Robert nodded silently in greeting. He wanted to get his business here sorted as quickly as possible and escape. Already he was feeling despair, the same sensation the patients must have felt as they were dragged out of the sunlight one last time.
‘I said to your man there must be a mistake,’ Symes said as he led Robert into his office. ‘None of our patients are gently born, we haven’t got any ladies here.’
Robert very much hoped so, but in the ten years Yates had worked for him he hadn’t known the man to be wrong.
‘You have a patient listed as Louisa Turnhill?’ Robert asked.
Symes flicked through the ledger in front of him, his short, pudgy fingers crinkling the paper.
‘Louisa Turnhill, aged nineteen. Came to us just over a year ago.’
Over a year in this place. Robert couldn’t even begin to imagine it.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Robert asked bluntly.
Symes squirmed a little in his seat, but dutifully read out the entry next to her name. ‘Melancholy and mania. Violent outbursts. Hallucinations.’
‘And what is her treatment?’
Symes looked at the two men in front of him blankly.
‘Treatment?’ he asked.
‘Yes, what are you doing to make her better?’ Robert had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer to this question, but he persisted anyway. ‘How do you propose to cure her?’
‘Oh, there is no cure, Lord Fleetwood,’ he said, baring his yellow teeth in an uncomfortable smile. ‘We don’t deal in cures here, just room and board and a place for the wretched to stay out of the way of the rest of the world.’
Robert knew he’d never been in a more depressing place. Nearly one hundred poor souls locked in grim little cells with no hope of a cure and for many of them no hope of release.
‘Tell me,’ he said reluctantly, ‘how is Miss Turnhill presently?’
Symes shrugged. ‘I oversee the asylum, I don’t visit the inmates. You can see for yourself.’
He stood and stuck his head out into the corridor, motioning for a middle-aged woman to come into the room.
‘Show this gentleman to Room Sixty-Eight,’ he ordered.
Robert followed the dowdy woman up three flights of stairs. All around him screams and moans were muffled by thick wooden doors. He wondered how anyone got any rest. He wasn’t surprised they didn’t hope to cure anyone at Lewisham Asylum; he rather suspected it would turn a sane person mad within a month.
‘She’s in here, sir.’
The female warden slotted a key into the lock in front of her and opened the door.
Robert steeled himself, then stepped inside. He turned to see the door closing behind him as the warden locked him in.
He waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was a tiny window, high up in the wall, covered almost entirely with bars. It let in a sliver of sunlight, but nowhere near enough to illuminate the room. In one corner was a metal bed and in another a small pot. The walls were whitewashed and the floor beneath his feet bare floorboards.
At first glance Robert thought they’d brought him to the wrong room, an empty room. For a few seconds he didn’t see the slender young woman crouching by the side of the bed, her wrist encircled by a manacle and a chain securing her to the wall. She was sitting completely still, regarding him with wide brown eyes.
‘Miss Turnhill?’ he asked.
She shied away from him as he took a step towards her.
‘Louisa?’ he tried again.
In his least threatening manner Robert ambled across the room and took a seat on the bed. It was hard, little more than a metal frame with an inch-thick straw mattress.
‘My name is Robert, I’m here to help you.’
The young woman cocked her head to the side and scrutinised him. For an instant Robert wondered if she was dumb, or if she’d forgotten how to speak in her year of captivity.
‘No one’s here to help me,’ she said eventually, her voice a little croaky as if underused.
‘I would really like to learn a little more about you,’ he said softly.
She chuckled and Robert wondered if she was about to become hysterical.
‘No, you wouldn’t.’
‘How are you feeling today?’ He tried a different tack.
She paused, regarding him seriously. ‘Not too mad today, thank you very much.’
Robert felt as though he’d been transported to another world. He had no idea how to talk to this young woman. She didn’t seem mad, at least not at first glance, but he wasn’t exactly an expert.
‘Are you going to hurt me?’ she asked as if enquiring about the weather.
Robert looked at her carefully. Underneath her uninterested demeanour he realised she was scared. Petrified, even.
‘I promise I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said sincerely.
She relaxed a little. ‘Have you brought any food?’ she asked.
Robert wondered how she’d gone from violence to food so quickly. His confusion must have shown on his face.
‘When people come in it’s either to hurt me or bring me food,’ she said calmly.
Robert Fleetwood, hardened soldier and celebrated war hero, felt his heart go out to this scared young woman. In that instant he vowed silently to help her. Even if she wasn’t the Louisa Turnhill he was looking for, he would make sure she was properly looked after, somewhere a long way from Lewisham Asylum.
‘Will you tell me how you came to be here, Louisa?’ Robert asked.
She stood, the chain attached to her wrist jangling as she moved. He saw she was thin—a year of asylum food didn’t seem to provide much nourishment. Her hair was long and straggly, falling most of the way down her back. There were bruises on the pale skin of her arms and dark circles under her eyes. She was in a poor state, but despite all of this Robert saw the spirit burning in her eyes as she watched him look over her. In her time at the asylum they hadn’t broken her.
She came and sat on the bed next to him, making sure there was as much distance as possible between them.
‘There’s no point,’ she said, turning her face towards him, ‘you wouldn’t believe me anyway.’
It was said with such certainty that Robert knew he had to hear her story. He wondered if she was deluded, whether she would tell him a different tale if he came back tomorrow.
‘I might,’ he said simply.
‘If you stay here overnight, there’s lots of screaming,’ Louisa said. ‘And moaning and shouting. Do you know the most common thing people shout?’
He shook his head.
‘They shout “I’m not mad”—’ she paused ‘—or “I shouldn’t be here”, which is much the same thing.’
Robert couldn’t imagine spending a single night in this hellish place, let alone over four hundred as she must have done.
‘Everyone says it,’ she said with a small smile on her face. ‘But I actually mean it.’
‘You shouldn’t be here?’
‘I’m not mad,’ she said, ‘or at least I wasn’t when they put me in here.’
He didn’t know how to respond. He’d expected howling and writhing, he’d been prepared for that—this cool, detached statement of sanity he didn’t know how to react to.
‘I probably am a little bit mad now. Anyone would be after a few months in this place.’
She looked at him and Robert got the sensation she was assessing him, weighing up whether he was worth revealing more to.
‘I said you wouldn’t believe me.’
‘What happened?’ Robert asked simply, not trusting himself to say more. He got the feeling this strange young woman was very astute—she’d know if he lied to her.
‘You actually want to know?’
‘I want to know.’
‘I had an evil guardian,’ she said, then giggled. ‘Your face is a picture.’
Robert hadn’t realised he’d moved a muscle.
‘My evil guardian locked me up here after I refused to marry him. Lecherous old sod.’
Sometimes she sounded so normal, so sane, but Robert knew there were some lunatics like that. So caught up in their fantasy world they could make others believe it was true.
‘He wanted the money my parents had left to me. When I wouldn’t give it to him through marriage, he bribed a doctor to certify I was insane and dumped me here. I should imagine he’s worked his way through most of the money by now. Not that it’s any use to me in here.’
Robert knew he shouldn’t believe her. He knew he was probably being manipulated, conned into believing her fantasy, but the disbelief in his mind was giving away to horrified realisation.
He’d received a letter eight weeks ago, a confession of sorts. It had been sent the day before his great-uncle had died. In the letter his great-uncle confessed to committing a grave sin and asked Robert to put it right. The only other information the old man had supplied was Louisa’s name.
Surely this wasn’t the sin his great-uncle had talked of. Robbing a young woman of her fortune was one thing, but to rob her of her freedom and label her as insane was worse than murder.
He cursed the man again for not providing more details of his crime.
‘And who was your guardian?’ he asked, trying to make his tone casual even though he was holding his breath in anticipation of her answer.
‘Thomas Craven,’ she said. ‘The name I curse last thing every night and first thing every morning.’
Robert felt the foundations of his world rock. This young woman must have been the ward of his great-uncle, Thomas Craven, otherwise there was no way she could have given him the right name.
When Yates had tracked Louisa down to the asylum, Robert hadn’t known what to expect. He’d wondered if his great-uncle had somehow played a part in this young woman’s descent into madness, maybe by robbing her of her innocence, an event she hadn’t been able to recover from, and for which his great-uncle had rightly blamed himself. No part of him had been prepared for the possibility she’d been wrongly imprisoned for over a year.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, patting him on the hand in a sisterly gesture, ‘you don’t have to believe me.’
Robert stood and paced to the other side of the tiny room, trying to buy himself time to figure out what he believed.
‘I want to take you away from here, Louisa,’ he said eventually. ‘I want to take you somewhere safe whilst I figure out exactly what’s happened.’
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Robert surmised she hadn’t had much reason to trust people in the last few years. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively and started to hunch into herself.
‘I promise I won’t hurt you,’ Robert said, kneeling down in front of her and gently taking her hand. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.’
She flinched as his skin touched hers, not pulling her hand away, but cowering a little as if she expected him to hit her.
‘Do they beat you here?’ he asked, suddenly catching sight of the bruises on her arms for a second time.
She laughed in disbelief. ‘Of course.’
Robert felt the rage building inside him, rage he thought he’d managed to control for so long. He didn’t know if this young woman was mad or the victim of a very heinous deception, but either way she didn’t deserve to be beaten. She shouldn’t be chained to the wall, frightened of every person who entered her dismal cell. She deserved more than that, every human did.
‘Trust me,’ he said quietly.
Louisa regarded him for almost a minute in silence, staring into his eyes, and Robert felt as though she’d studied his soul. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Robert rose to his feet, strode the couple of paces to the door and thumped hard on the wood with his fist.
He waited until he could hear footsteps approaching, then thumped again.
The female warden unlocked the door and stood aside for him to come out.
‘Get me Symes,’ he commanded. ‘And give me the keys to unlock this poor girl’s manacles.’
The warden just stared at him.
‘I said give me your keys,’ he growled in a voice that brooked no argument.
Wordlessly the warden handed over a key, unthreading it from the bunch.
‘Go get Symes,’ he repeated. ‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill away from here.’
‘Very Arthurian,’ Louisa murmured as he unlocked the manacle from around her wrist.
He looked at her, puzzled.
‘My knight in shining armour.’ He saw the smile on her face and humour in her eyes and wondered how anyone could keep from utter despair after spending such a long time in the asylum.
‘What’s going on?’ Symes asked as he blustered in. ‘Lock her back up immediately.’
‘I’m taking Miss Turnhill with me,’ Robert said, ‘and we’re never coming back.’ It was a bit of a dramatic statement, but the whole scene seemed a little farcical to him.
‘You can’t do that,’ Symes said.
‘I’m her legal guardian now, I can choose to do whatever I like. And I choose to take Miss Turnhill away from this dreadful place and into my care.’
With that Robert took Louisa’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. She took a couple of steps forward and stumbled. Robert realised she wasn’t used to walking far and, adding to that the excitement of escape, he wasn’t surprised she was a little overcome. Wanting to make their exit as quickly as possible, he bent his head to Louisa’s ear and dropped his voice so only she could hear.
‘I’m going to carry you,’ he said.
‘You most certainly are not.’
Robert blinked twice in quick succession. Most young ladies wouldn’t give up the chance of being swept into a man’s arms whatever the circumstances.
‘I was dragged into this hellhole, but I will walk out on my own two feet.’
Chapter Two (#ulink_2981172d-bfa1-5292-8d03-b7ba090abaa3)
Louisa stumbled, but only once. She righted herself, held her head high and walked out of Lewisham Asylum for the last time. They could threaten to poke out her eyes and hang her by the neck, but nothing would make her enter that vile place ever again.
‘Where to now?’ she asked, eyeing her saviour with a grin on her face.
He looked down at her with concern. Louisa supposed she probably did look a little mad, dressed in the grey sack of the madhouse, squinting into the sun and grinning like a lunatic. She didn’t care. She was free.
‘My home, perhaps?’ Robert suggested.
She pulled a face. ‘But there’s so much to do. Over a year of things to catch up on. I was thinking a stroll in the park.’
She watched as he tried to hide the horror on his face. She grinned again and waited as it dawned on him that she was teasing.
‘Your home would be lovely,’ she said quietly.
She’d always found it hard to be serious, her natural temperament was carefree and joyous. Even when her parents had died she’d tried to see the positive side to life. In the years she’d dodged her guardian’s unwanted advances she’d almost forgotten how to smile. Then he’d dumped her in the asylum and she’d vowed she would be true to herself, no matter what hardships followed.
Gently Robert helped her up into his carriage. He followed her inside and banged on the roof, signalling for the driver to depart. Louisa watched as the facade of the asylum faded into the distance, then felt her body start to shake. She couldn’t believe she was actually out of that place. She was free. She didn’t know what life held for her now, but surely nothing could be worse than the eight long years with her guardian or the one in the madhouse.
She couldn’t stop the shaking, she felt overwhelmed. She felt the tears start to pour from her eyes and run down her cheeks.
‘It’s all right,’ Robert said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’
He moved from his position on the opposite side of the carriage to sit next to her. Gently he took her in his arms and held her. Louisa felt herself stiffen. She wasn’t used to human contact, at least not of the friendly kind. No one had hugged her since her parents had died. Slowly she allowed herself to relax into his arms, soothed by the soft sound of his voice.
‘You’re safe now,’ he repeated over and over again, and for a few moments Louisa allowed herself to believe it.
She wondered what was driving this man. She’d had to trust him in the asylum, she’d have trusted anyone who’d given her the chance to escape, but now she was free she could always try to make her own way. She watched as the carriage slowed slightly and wondered if she would hurt herself too much if she jumped. Being alone in London was a scary thought, but at least she wouldn’t be locked in anywhere. For all she knew this man might be taking her somewhere worse than the asylum.
It was possible, but the rational part of Louisa knew to dismiss the thought. She might not know his motivations, but Louisa’s instincts were that he was a good man. Maybe she would stick with him for a little while, just until she could make plans to be on her own.
Self-consciously Louisa wiped the last few tears from her cheeks and sat upright. As she wriggled free from Robert’s arms she felt strangely bereft. She’d been on her own so long that just that little bit of human contact had been world changing.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Louisa asked. ‘Sell me into slavery? Banish me to work in a travelling fair?’
He was too easy to poke fun at, that was the problem. Robert Fleetwood was a serious man, too serious for a man of his age. She wondered if he’d been in the war. He had a scar running down his left temple that looked as though it had been inflicted by a sword. She supposed it could have been from a duel, but he looked like a soldier. He had that upright bearing, serious mien and a haunted, faraway look in his eyes that suggested he’d left a bit of his soul on the battlefield.
‘You joke a lot,’ he said seriously.
‘I find when you’re incarcerated as a lunatic it helps if you can enjoy the funnier things in life. It does get rather dull otherwise.’
Robert shook his head. ‘It’s not that,’ he said. ‘You use it as your protection.’
Louisa felt stripped, naked. It was as though he’d looked inside her very being and found each and every one of her weaknesses. And he’d only known her for an hour.
‘I meant what I said back there, Louisa,’ he said seriously. ‘I’m not going to hurt you and I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.’
She allowed herself to hope, to dream. It was everything she’d ever wished for during her darkest hours at the asylum. A protector, a rescuer, someone who actually cared about her, but Louisa knew it was too good to be true. Life wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales, she’d found that out long ago. She might have dreamed about a protector, someone to rescue her, but she’d known she wouldn’t ever rely on anyone but herself again. Other people could hurt her, let her down. Even a knight in shining armour was too good to be true. No, Louisa had promised herself she would only ever depend on herself again, no matter how tempting the dream of someone to look after her had been.
‘Why are you helping me?’ she asked. It hadn’t mattered before, but now she was free she needed to know.
Robert sighed, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned. Louisa wondered what he looked like when he laughed. Handsome, she supposed, not that he wasn’t handsome when he was serious, but a smile would change his face to make him irresistible to the ladies. Real ladies, not lunatic paupers like her.
‘Eight weeks ago Thomas Craven died,’ he said slowly.
Louisa didn’t know how to react. The man who’d made her existence a misery, ruined her entire life, was dead. She felt a strange bubble of rage building inside her. It was as though she’d been robbed. She’d wanted to confront him, stand in front of him and tell him what an awful, wicked excuse for a guardian he was. Now she would never be able to.
‘As his closest living relative I inherited his estate.’
Slowly realization dawned on Louisa. Robert hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was her guardian. She’d assumed it was a ruse to trick Symes into letting her go.
‘So you actually are my guardian?’
He nodded. ‘The day before my great-uncle died he wrote a letter and sent it to me. In it he confessed to some awful wrongdoing on his part.’
Louisa sat paralysed, unable to move. She felt stunned.
‘He gave me your name and asked me to put right the wrong he did you.’
‘Did he tell you what he did?’ she asked urgently. ‘Did he say he’d had me locked up when I was completely sane?’
Robert shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Louisa felt the breath being sucked out of her. There was no proof, only her word, that she wasn’t insane. That was why Robert had studied her so intently back at the asylum. He was weighing her up, deciding whether to believe her at all.
‘So how did you find me?’
‘I visited my great-uncle’s estate and asked around. The servants were all very tight-lipped, but eventually someone talked. Said there was a big scandal and you were taken away to be locked up. My agent, Yates, has been scouring the country for you ever since.’
‘What happens now?’ Louisa asked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
‘I don’t know,’ Robert said with a rueful grin. ‘I’ve never been a guardian before.’
‘I can give you a few pointers on how not to do it,’ Louisa suggested, feeling some of her spirit returning to her. ‘I’ve had plenty of experience.’
Robert looked at her tenderly and Louisa felt her heart start to pound in her chest. She clenched her fists so she wouldn’t reach up and stroke his cheek. It would be entirely inappropriate. He was her guardian, her saviour, and no doubt he was still wondering if she was quite right in the head. What she was feeling was natural, Louisa reasoned, it was gratitude for his chivalrous rescue of her from the asylum. She forced herself to look away from his serious blue eyes or she knew she’d do something she would regret later.
Self-consciously Louisa stared down at her grubby hands and skinny arms. Her dress was shapeless and filthy, her hair hadn’t been cut or styled for over a year and she probably stank like a sewer rat. There was no way a man like Robert would find her attractive. And even after a bath and a change of clothes she wasn’t anything like the ladies he’d be used to. She’d spent her adult years festering in a cell or secluded in the country whilst her peers learnt to waltz around ballrooms and flirt with gentlemen. She was not fit to even fantasise about a man like Robert.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Robert asked.
Louisa desperately tried not to blush.
‘I was wondering whether I smelt better or worse than a rotting pig,’ Louisa said with a sunny smile, her defences back up. She took a sniff. ‘Worse, I fear.’
Robert leant forward so his face was only inches from hers. Louisa had to remind herself to breathe. He inhaled deeply.
‘Now I’m no connoisseur of rotting pigs,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think you smell as bad as you think you do.’
It was the strangest compliment she’d ever received.
‘We’ll get you a bath when we get home,’ he said.
Louisa immediately pictured Robert lathering her back as she luxuriated in a tub full of bubbles. The idea made her feel hot all over and she squirmed slightly. This was the last thing she needed: an infatuation with her guardian.
She settled back into the seat of the carriage and tried to look anywhere except at Robert. It was hard when her eyes were being so rebellious. Every few seconds she found herself staring at his face, watching the tiny changes in his expression.
‘Where do you live?’ Louisa asked, trying to use banal conversation to distract herself.
‘Here.’
The carriage rolled to a stop and Louisa glanced out. She nearly had a heart attack. It was one of the grandest London town houses she’d ever seen.
‘You can’t live here,’ she squeaked.
He regarded her strangely. ‘I can assure you I’ve lived here for the last two years,’ Robert said, ‘but I’m always up for suggestions for more comfortable accommodation.’
‘I can highly recommend the Lewisham Asylum.’
He turned serious again and took her by the shoulder. ‘I want you to forget that place, Louisa. I will do everything I can to make you forget it.’
Louisa saw the care and sincerity in his eyes and already the asylum seemed a long way away.
Chapter Three (#ulink_b6fb7ca9-36f3-5011-b3ca-6ca46d2dfb2a)
Robert glanced at the clock and tapped his fingers absent-mindedly on the arm of the chair. His years of service in the army had made him exceedingly punctual; he even turned up to dinner in his own house five minutes early.
Not that there was any rush, he thought, as he sipped from the glass of whisky in his hand. He’d planned for dinner this evening to be a very informal affair with just him and Louisa present. He didn’t want to scare her, and after eating slop from wooden bowls with her fingers for over a year he doubted Louisa would welcome company at her first civilised meal.
He glanced at the clock again, wondering if he should check on Louisa. He’d handed her over to his housekeeper, Mrs Kent, a couple of hours ago. The older woman had clucked over Louisa’s poor state and had whisked her upstairs to fuss over her.
A little bit of fussing would do Louisa some good, Robert thought. She’d been neglected for too long. He wondered if her experiences over the last few years had inflicted any permanent damage. Only someone with a very robust character would escape unscathed from a situation such as hers.
The door slowly swung open as Louisa stepped into the room.
Robert stood immediately, surprised by the difference a bath could make.
‘Good evening, Lord Fleetwood,’ Louisa said.
For a second Robert couldn’t find the right words. She looked completely different to the scrawny little ragamuffin he’d swept from the asylum and into his carriage earlier in the day. Granted she was still all skin and bones, but Mrs Kent had scrubbed Louisa’s skin until it was glowing, then must have turned her attention to Louisa’s hair. In place of the lank locks that had hung down Louisa’s back earlier in the day was a head of shining chestnut hair, secured into an elegant hairstyle.
The only thing that stopped Louisa looking like a young lady of the ton was the shapeless dress she’d had to borrow from Robert’s middle-aged and voluptuous housekeeper. It hung off her like a sack, but at least it was clean and not that awful grey garment she’d spent over a year wearing.
‘You look lovely,’ Robert said.
Louisa scrunched up her nose as if she didn’t believe him.
‘You do.’
And she did. Robert wasn’t in the habit of giving out compliments just for the sake of it.
‘It feels wonderful to be clean,’ Louisa said, fiddling with her hair self-consciously. ‘For the first time in longer than I can remember I smell of roses rather than cabbage.’
‘Shall we go in to dinner?’ Robert asked.
He held out his arm and waited for her to slip her hand into the crook of his elbow. She hesitated before stepping forwards and Robert realised he had a long way to go before Louisa trusted him. She was scared of even the briefest human contact. He’d seen her flinch on a couple of occasions since he’d brought her home, as if she was expecting him to raise a hand to her. Slowly, he cautioned himself, if you’re gentle she’ll start to trust you eventually.
He made sure no part of his body brushed against hers as he escorted her into dinner. He watched her face as he pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before sitting down himself. She was wary of every movement, but seemed to relax once he’d sat down.
‘We’ve got a lot to discover about each other,’ Robert said as the footman brought the first course to the table.
Louisa smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He supposed she was nervous of giving too much of herself away.
‘What you like to eat, for example.’
As she realised Robert wasn’t going to push her for more personal facts quite yet, Louisa relaxed.
‘I used to be rather fussy,’ she said, eyeing the bowl of soup in front of her. ‘My mama would despair at mealtimes.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t eat.’ After a mouthful of soup she added, ‘Except gruel. Serve that and I’m walking out.’
‘I’ll tell cook madam is not a fan of the gruel.’
‘Or porridge,’ Louisa added. ‘I do like this soup, though.’
Robert could tell she was holding back. She wanted to spoon the deliciously warm liquid into her mouth and not bother with any conversation, but even after a year locked away, her upbringing as a well-mannered young woman shone through.
‘What else do we have on the menu?’ Louisa asked, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.
Robert was glad—she needed to put some more flesh on her frame. A few weeks of good cooking and she’d be much healthier and able to face the world again.
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got no idea.’
Louisa frowned. ‘But it’s your house, isn’t it?’
He nodded.
‘Then how can you have no idea what’s for dinner.’
The truth was he had little interest in food. For years in the army he’d got used to eating whatever was available. More often than not it would be a sinewy rabbit or a watered-down stew. After a while he’d stopped noticing how the food tasted and had eaten it for sustenance only.
And since he’d returned from the war...well, nothing was the same, not even the fancy dinners he used to enjoy.
‘I let cook decide.’
Louisa looked at him as though he were mad.
‘Every night you could have anything, anything, you desire, and you let your cook decide.’
‘She does make very good choices,’ Robert said, motioning to the two empty bowls of soup the footman was whisking away.
‘Even so, I’d love to choose exactly what I was going to eat each and every day.’
Robert decided not to reveal he wouldn’t notice if it was a pheasant or a field mouse set down in front of him.
‘At the asylum we had gruel every day,’ Louisa said, surprising Robert with this little snippet of information, ‘and porridge for breakfast.’
Hence her dislike for gruel and porridge, he assumed.
‘And when I lived with my guardian he used to restrict my food if I did even the slightest thing wrong, but the servants often saved me a few scraps and leftovers.’
No wonder she’d devoured the soup as if it were her last meal on earth. Nine years of deprivation would do that to anyone.
‘Would you like to help Mrs Rust plan the meals for the next couple of weeks?’ Robert asked, surprising himself with the question.
For a second Louisa’s eyes lit up with excitement, then she became suspicious.
‘I’d love that,’ she said slowly, ‘if you truly are planning on keeping me around. But I’ll understand if you decide to sell me to that travelling fair. I am quite expensive to feed after all.’
The humour was back, her protective armour against the world.
Robert stopped himself from reaching out and taking her hand. He knew she wasn’t ready for that kind of contact yet. Instead, he leant forwards slightly and looked her in the eye.
‘You’re not going anywhere, Louisa,’ he said. ‘I’m your guardian and I promise you have a home here with me for as long as you want or need it.’
‘The last thing you want is a half-crazy penniless orphan getting in your way.’
This time Robert couldn’t stop himself reaching out to touch her, it was an automatic gesture.
‘You’re not crazy, Louisa,’ he said seriously.
And he believed what he was telling her. All his doubts from the asylum had been quashed a while ago. Louisa wasn’t insane, she was the victim of an awful old man’s plot to steal her inheritance.
‘Sometimes I feel it.’
It was said so quietly Robert barely heard her.
No, she wasn’t insane, Robert thought, but she’d been badly hurt by her experiences and he’d have to remember not to push her too hard.
‘You’re not crazy,’ he repeated, ‘and you need to stop telling yourself that you are.’
The footman chose that moment to bring in the main course. Robert lifted his hand from Louisa’s and sat back, watching as she tried to conceal her emotions.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Robert could tell Louisa was still thinking about his declaration and wondering if she could trust him. He knew the best thing to do was to give her time.
‘How will it work?’ she asked eventually.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You being my guardian, me living here. The whole thing.’
Robert could tell that how he answered her would be very important.
‘I’ve never been a guardian before,’ Robert said, buying himself some time to think. ‘I’m not sure what to do for the best.’
The military man in him perked up and Robert started to formulate a plan.
‘But I guess it all depends on you.’
Louisa leant forwards. He’d at the very least got her to engage.
‘For instance, would you prefer to live in town or the country?’
‘You have a house in the country?’ Louisa asked.
Robert thought of his extensive estate far away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
‘I have a house in the country,’ he confirmed.
She took another bite of beef and chewed whilst she thought.
‘I’ve never lived in London before,’ she said slowly. ‘At least not as a free woman.’
The Lewisham Asylum didn’t count.
‘Would you like to?’
‘I’d like to give it a go.’
‘Then why don’t we plan on spending a few weeks in London. I will have to employ a chaperone for you, a companion.’
Society would be scandalised at the thought of a gently bred young woman spending even a night alone in a house with a bachelor such as he, but Robert knew his servants would be discreet and he had no intention of telling anyone.
Louisa nodded, spearing a piece of carrot with her fork. She lifted it up to her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully.
‘Tomorrow we’ll visit the modiste and get you some clothes of your own,’ Robert said, looking at Mrs Kent’s sizeable dress.
The last thing he wanted to do was spend his days visiting dress shops and interviewing companions, but he felt as though he owed it to Louisa. If he palmed her off on some female friend, she would probably feel as though he was abandoning her. Not that he had any obliging female friends in any case, or many friends at all for that matter. The last few years he hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly.
No, he’d have to spend a bit of time helping Louisa settle into her new life. Once she was used to living as his ward and had a suitable companion he would be able to back off a little and return to his normal life.
The footman entered one final time, bringing dessert. Robert watched as Louisa’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fruit crumble that was placed in front of her.
‘Do you like fruit crumble?’ he asked.
Louisa nodded and Robert was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
‘It was my mother’s favourite,’ she said.
He didn’t know what to say. Louisa stared for a few long moments at the dish in front of her, then stood abruptly.
‘Please excuse me,’ she said, then fled the room.
Robert was left staring at the door, wondering whether he should go after her.
‘Best leave her for the night,’ Mrs Kent said as she watched Robert pace the hallway. ‘Poor duck has had a hectic day, I’m sure she’ll be happier in the morning.’
Robert glanced up the stairs one final time before retreating to his study. He’d never professed to understand women.
Chapter Four (#ulink_a65160e1-6aeb-552e-b8e4-65a1b3358ba0)
Louisa dried the tears from her cheeks and tested the door handle for the tenth time. It was strange not to be locked in and every few minutes she wondered if she’d imagined her freedom and just had to test the handle again.
The corridor outside her room was quiet. She’d listened as slowly the household had retired for the night and now she was sure she was the only one still awake. She looked left and right, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. There was no one there.
With one final glance into the bedroom Louisa stepped out into the corridor. As she crept along in the darkness she allowed her fingers to trail across the plush wallpaper, luxuriating in the expensive textures. Everything in this house was the polar opposite of the asylum, from the wallpaper and plush carpet to the kindness of the inhabitants. For a second Louisa hesitated. Maybe she was being foolish.
She probably was being foolish, but in her mind it was her only option. For a little while, during the delicious dinner Robert Fleetwood had given her, she’d allowed herself to dream. She’d wondered if he had meant everything he’d said: the promise of safety and security, the life of comfort as his ward. On first impressions he seemed a good man, an honest man, but despite all that Louisa knew she couldn’t stay with him.
She’d vowed to herself that if she ever escaped from the asylum she’d never be dependent on another human being again, and most especially not a man. Although in her darkest moments she’d dreamt of a man such as Robert coming to rescue her, Louisa knew fairy tales didn’t exist and she was better off relying only on herself. She had resigned herself to a lonely life, but loneliness was better than betrayal.
Silently she crept down the stairs, pausing every few steps to check no one else was stirring.
Louisa knew the streets of London were cruel and unforgiving to young women with no money or connections, but at least she would be dependent on no one but herself. She couldn’t bear growing close to Lord Fleetwood, starting to enjoy her new privileged lifestyle, only to have it ripped away again. It would be better never to experience it, to not know what that life could be like. Because it would be ripped away. It might be in a week or in a year, but Louisa knew that all good things in life didn’t last. One day, when she was least expecting it, her life would again be turned upside down.
Louisa reached the front door and quietly started to unlock it. Only a couple of minutes and she would disappear into the anonymity of the London streets. As she pulled the door open she wondered if she should leave a note for Lord Fleetwood, an explanation of why she had left, but decided against it. Although he might protest otherwise, Louisa doubted she was little more than an inconvenience to his ordered lifestyle. He’d saved her from the asylum and she didn’t doubt he was a good man, but he’d done it out of a sense of duty, to right the wrongs of his great-uncle. Within a few days she doubted she would even enter his thoughts.
Louisa wouldn’t forget him quite so quickly, though. Her knight in shining armour, the man who had actually believed she wasn’t insane and rescued her from a lifetime of misery locked in Lewisham Asylum. Louisa knew Robert Fleetwood’s face would grace her dreams for many nights to come.
She slipped out into the darkness and gently pulled the door closed behind her. As she heard the latch click she knew there was no going back now. Taking a deep breath, Louisa pulled the shawl Mrs Kent had lent her across her shoulders and walked down the steps. It was a chilly night, the sky was clear and cloudless and the air crisp, but Louisa was no stranger to cold. In the asylum the winter nights had been almost unbearable. More than once Louisa had thought she would perish from the icy temperatures alone.
With one final look at the house she’d felt most at ease in for the last nine years, Louisa hurried off down the street. It wouldn’t do to linger. Every second she remained, a little bit of her resolve weakened. She turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared into the night.
* * *
Robert woke up, gasping for air. The screams and shouts that had been haunting him in his dreams faded into the darkness, but he was left with a pounding heart and his muscles tensed, ready for action. He knew if he closed his eyes he would see the faces of his fallen comrades as clear as the day they had died. He might have come home from the war over two years ago, but the awful sights he had seen still haunted him at night.
Slowly he sat up in bed and reached for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand. It was tepid, but as the liquid hit his throat, Robert didn’t care—it was more about distracting himself from his nightmare than needing a glass of water.
He sank back down on to his pillows and lay staring up at the ceiling, knowing he would not get a wink more of sleep. Not that he wanted to. If he succumbed to the tiredness that flowed through him, making his eyes droop, he knew he would be right back on the battlefield, looking at the agonised faces of his friends as they took their last breaths.
As he lay in the darkness he listened to the sounds of the house. It was quiet outside. His closest neighbours on either side were elderly couples who didn’t attend any social events and his house was off the main thoroughfare so they didn’t get many passing carriages. Inside the house there was the occasional creak of wood, but it sounded as though all the servants had retired for the night.
Robert was contemplating getting up and heading down to his study to look over some papers when the distinctive click of the front door being closed came to his ears. He listened for any further sound, but the house was entirely silent.
Rising quickly from his bed, he strode over to the window and pulled back the curtains. He looked out into the moonlit street. Louisa was just turning away from the house, pulling a woollen shawl tighter around her shoulders and walking off down the street.
For a moment Robert froze as his mind tried to process what he was seeing. He couldn’t understand why Louisa was out in the street, leaving his house.
After a couple of seconds he sprang into action. In this instant it didn’t matter why she was leaving, it just mattered that she was. Or more specifically that she was out on the streets of London all on her own in the middle of the night. Even in a neighbourhood like this Robert doubted she’d survive more than an hour before she ran into trouble.
He pulled on a pair of trousers and threw a shirt over his head. The foolish woman would be a few streets away by now. He had to find her before she disappeared into the anonymous heart of London. Slipping his feet into a pair of boots, Robert threw open his door, dashed along the corridor and bounded down the steps. Within seconds he was out the front door and onto the street. He set off in the direction he’d seen Louisa take from his window.
When he reached the corner there was no sign of her and Robert felt a stab of panic. He couldn’t lose her already, this young woman he’d promised to protect. He couldn’t fail her.
He set off at a jog, all the time glancing left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Louisa in her shapeless grey dress.
A coach sat at the end of the road, the driver leaning back against his seat. For a moment Robert thought the man must be asleep and cursed under his breath.
‘Good evening, sir,’ the man said without moving as Robert slowed his pace. ‘Fine evening for a walk.’
‘Have you seen a young woman walk past?’ Robert asked, sparing no time for pleasantries.
‘Oh, yes, sir, not two minutes ago. Pretty little thing in an awful oversized dress. Shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at this time of night.’
‘Which way did she go?’
The driver scratched his chin and Robert had to fight the urge to reach up and pull him from the seat. Didn’t the man understand the urgency?
‘Turned left on to Poplar Street,’ he said eventually.
Without stopping to thank the man, Robert dashed off. He ran down the entire length of Poplar Street. As he was approaching the end he wondered if the coach driver had sent him the wrong way. Surely he should have caught a glimpse of Louisa by now. She’d had a few minutes’ head start, but there was no reason why she’d be hurrying. He’d practically been sprinting for the last few minutes.
A cold ball of dread started to form in the pit of his stomach. What if she’d been snatched from the street, dragged into an alleyway, her screams muffled? He couldn’t stop the image of Louisa being attacked from settling in his brain and he felt the anguish rip through him. Another person he hadn’t been able to protect, another life destroyed because of his inadequacies.
Suddenly he was once again back on the battlefield, the unmoving faces of his fallen men surrounding him. He felt the darkness start to take over and his body start to shake.
A high-pitched scream drew him back to reality. Louisa. It had to be. No other woman would be foolish enough to be wandering the streets at this time of night.
He started running in the direction of the scream, all the time hoping he wasn’t going to be too late.
Chapter Five (#ulink_83536fcc-07c6-5852-9987-893fa90d1973)
Louisa struggled against the hand that was pressed against her mouth, sinking her teeth into the fleshy palm. Her attacker pulled away from her for an instant and she took the opportunity to let out another scream.
‘Shut up,’ the man growled, slapping her across the face with such force her neck snapped back and her head hit the wall.
For an instant Louisa’s world went black. She fought the urge to let the darkness take over her, knowing she wouldn’t have a chance of escape if she lost consciousness.
As the world came back into focus Louisa opened her mouth to scream again, but quickly clamped her lips together as she saw the glint of light reflected off her attacker’s knife blade.
‘Good girl,’ the man murmured. ‘Just keep quiet and I won’t hurt you too much.’
Louisa very much doubted that. She didn’t know if this man planned to rob her or do something much, much worse, but she hoped she wouldn’t be around to find out.
She was just assessing whether she could outrun her attacker when a figure pounced from the shadows.
‘Oof,’ her attacker groaned as he received a fist to his abdomen.
Louisa backed away, glancing behind her and wondering if she should run. There was no guarantee her saviour was any nobler than the man he was now punching in the face.
She had just decided to make a run for it when a familiar voice growled, ‘Don’t even think of moving a muscle, Miss Turnhill.’
Her eyes widened with surprise. Her mysterious saviour, the man beating her attacker, was none other than Robert Fleetwood.
She didn’t disobey him.
The man who’d been attacking her managed to wriggle free from Robert’s grasp and without a backward glance scuttled off into the night.
Louisa was left alone in the alleyway with Robert.
Even in the darkness she could tell he was fuming.
‘I am going to escort you home,’ he said.
Louisa allowed him to tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and pull her along beside him. He walked fast, his long legs eating up the distance in no time. Louisa nearly had to run to keep up with him, taking two steps for his every one.
She glanced up at him as they walked. His jaw was clenched and his eyes focused straight ahead. He didn’t once look down at her.
Louisa opened her mouth to say something but immediately decided against it. She’d been scared in the alleyway, more scared than she’d ever been in her life. If she thought about it too much, she knew her legs would start to shake and give way beneath her. So instead she concentrated on keeping up with Lord Fleetwood.
* * *
It took only ten minutes to reach his house and within another thirty seconds they were behind a locked front door. Louisa was marched into Robert’s study and deposited unceremoniously on a comfortable leather sofa.
Still Robert did not speak. He crossed over to a decanter and poured himself a generous glass of whisky, which he downed in one gulp.
Then he turned to face her.
Louisa felt herself shrinking back in her chair. He was angry, furious even. She knew she was in trouble, but strangely she didn’t feel scared. At least not scared of him. Although she’d known Robert only a short time she somehow knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. He might shout and berate her for putting herself in such danger, but he wouldn’t actually physically hurt her.
‘Miss Turnhill,’ he started, ‘why don’t you talk me through your thought process when you decided it was a good idea to wander the streets of London in the middle of the night?’
Louisa swallowed. When he put it like that it did sound rather foolish. She’d been so preoccupied with leaving, with standing on her own two feet, she hadn’t thought through the consequences of her actions.
She cleared her throat and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.
‘I thought the exercise would do me good before bed,’ she tried to joke weakly.
The stony silence that met her comment was enough to tell her he wasn’t amused.
‘No more jokes, please. Tell me what possessed you to leave in the middle of the night?’
Louisa swallowed. ‘I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else,’ she said eventually.
He looked at her as though she’d grown an extra head.
‘So you thought you would take off in the middle of the night with no money and no means of supporting yourself.’
She had to agree it did sound a little foolish.
‘London is a dangerous city,’ Robert said in a low voice. ‘What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t followed you?’
Louisa felt her hands start to shake. She knew what would have happened. She doubted she would be alive now, or if she was she would probably be wishing she was dead. It was only luck that Robert had seen her leave and had followed her, and reached her in time to save her from her attacker.
She felt the tears building in her eyes and tried to hold then back.
‘I know what would have happened,’ Louisa said, her voice cracking as the tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Robert looked at her for a couple of seconds, but as the sobs started to rack her body Louisa felt him sit down beside her and suddenly she was in his arms.
Her body instinctively stiffened at the contact, but gradually she relaxed as he held her, glad of the comfort he provided. He made her feel safe, Louisa realised. In this world where it seemed everyone was out to hurt, her he protected her time and time again.
‘It’s okay,’ he said soothingly. ‘You’re safe now.’
Louisa sniffed and tried to stem the flow of tears, but found now she had started she just couldn’t stop.
‘I’ve got you,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’
In that instant Louisa was inclined to believe him. He’d saved her from the asylum and just now he’d saved her from her own foolishness.
With an effort she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She felt her fears slowly ebbing away as he held her, knowing somehow that with him she was safe, at least just for a while.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Robert seeming to understand she needed a little while to collect herself. As she dried the last of her tears, she felt him pull away slightly so she was still in his arms but could look up at his face.
‘We need to discuss what you’re afraid of,’ Robert said. ‘And this time I need you to be honest with me.’
Louisa nodded. She supposed she owed him that much at least.
‘I understand you haven’t been able to rely on anyone for a very long time and I know me asking you to trust me is an impossible task when you’ve known me for less than a day, but I do need you to at least be willing to see if I can earn your trust.’
She looked up into his sincere eyes and wondered for a second what would happen if she did just trust her life to this man. He seemed so genuine and caring, yet Louisa knew it would be a mistake to trust him. It would be a mistake to trust anyone, but maybe she could just give him a chance.
‘London is a very lonely city,’ he said with a sadness that made Louisa wonder again why he was quite so serious all the time. ‘And it is a dangerous city, especially for beautiful young women.’
She felt her pulse quicken at his description of her. Did he actually think she was beautiful or was he just being kind?
‘I would feel much happier if you would agree to stay here with me, under my protection,’ he said, ‘but I’m not going to force you to.’
She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
‘So I can leave at any time?’
He grimaced.
‘Yes, you can leave at any time, although I’d prefer it if you didn’t choose the middle of the night.’
‘You wouldn’t stop me?’ Louisa needed the confirmation.
‘I’m not going to lock you in, Louisa. I would much prefer it if you choose to stay, but if you want to go I will not protest.’
Louisa looked at him, still not quite able to believe what he was saying.
‘I suppose you think with no money and no contacts I have no choice but to stay.’
‘If you choose to go, I will give you money,’ Robert said. ‘Good God, Louisa, do you think I could let you go out on to the cruel streets of London without any means of supporting yourself? I’m not a monster.’
It was the first time since the asylum he’d called her by her first name. Louisa rather liked the sound of it coming from his lips.
‘You’d give me money?’ she echoed.
‘Yes. And contacts. But I really hope you decide to stay, at least for a little while.’
She thought it over. Part of her wanted to grab the money and go, start a new life not having to rely on anyone but herself. The other part was still scared from her first experience of London on her own.
‘If you do decide to stay, you can of course change your mind at any time,’ Robert said.
‘So I could stay for a week, but you’d still help me if I decided to leave after that?’
He nodded. Louisa felt torn. She looked up at Robert and searched his face. How could she tell if he would hurt her, if he would betray her trust at some point in the future? Everything she knew of him so far pointed towards him being honest and trustworthy, but how could she judge a man on such a short acquaintance?
‘Maybe I could stay for a couple of days,’ she said, ‘at least until I get to know London a little better.’
The relief that flooded over Robert’s face was obvious and Louisa dared to wonder if she had found someone who actually cared for her. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him. His lips looked so inviting and the way he held her made her feel so safe and secure.
Stop it, she told herself, do something like that and he’ll march you out the door himself.
Still, Louisa couldn’t quite make herself look away.
She was suddenly very aware of every place his body was touching hers: the way their thighs were pressed up against one another, the bare skin of his arms looped around her back and how her body was cradled against his chest.
Louisa watched his face as he registered her desire for him and for an instant she thought he might lean in and kiss her. His eyelids seemed to grow heavy and Louisa thought she saw the flash of desire brighten in his eyes.
As quickly as the moment had come, it passed and Louisa was left wondering if she’d imagined it. Robert stood and paced to the window, a hand running through his hair.
Louisa felt suddenly bereft. She wasn’t used to such close contact, but it seemed she missed it when it was gone.
‘You should get some rest,’ Robert said, his voice thick and directed towards the window. ‘Just promise me you won’t leave again tonight.’
She owed him that much at least.
‘I promise,’ she said quietly. Standing from the sofa Louisa crossed to the window and waited until Robert turned to face her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, looking Robert directly in the eye. ‘You’ve saved me twice in the space of twenty-four hours.’
She stood on tiptoe and planted a light kiss on his cheek, her lips brushing momentarily against the fine stubble, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine.
Louisa didn’t wait to see his reaction, instead turned and walked from the room, knowing she would probably dream of this quiet, serious, chivalrous man when she eventually fell asleep.
Chapter Six (#ulink_e3201c24-a888-58ae-9819-c2b86321efaf)
Robert sipped at the scalding cup of coffee and tried to focus on the newspaper he held in front of him. He’d been attempting to read the same article for the last fifteen minutes and he hadn’t got past the first paragraph. Every few seconds he would find himself glancing at the door, wondering if and when Louisa was going to show up for breakfast.
He’d recovered from the scare she’d given him the night before and he thought she would probably decide to stay with him for the time being. Robert told himself it was just friendly concern that made him look up from his newspaper every time there was a creak in the hallway, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true.
There had been a moment in his study last night, just as Louisa had agreed to stay for a while at least, when she’d swayed towards him. Her body had been pressed up against his after he’d cradled her in his arms for comfort. He’d become aware of her womanly curves under the sack-like dress and a flicker of desire had ignited within him. For a second he had nearly given in to his desires. Robert was certain Louisa had leant towards him ever so slightly and it would have been so easy to bend his head and cover her mouth with his own.
Easy but disastrous. Louisa was his ward, a young woman who had been through so much in the last few years. She didn’t deserve to be pounced upon by her new guardian within hours of meeting him. And even if the attraction was mutual, it was still very bad idea. Robert had not been with a woman for a very long time. Not since...
With a gargantuan effort Robert dragged his thoughts away from that catastrophic night. The night he’d lost his best friend in the entire world and most of the men under his command. All because of a woman. No, he wasn’t going to allow himself to get involved with anyone ever again. It was the least he could sacrifice for the men whose deaths weighed on his conscience.
Robert was distracted from his dark train of thought by the opening of the door. Louisa edged into the room and stood nervously in the doorway. He realised she wasn’t quite sure how to behave in his house yet.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said, motioning to the seat beside him. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Wonderfully,’ she said with a sunny smile.
He studied her carefully, wondering if she was joking. After their midnight dash through the neighbourhood Robert hadn’t slept a wink. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d lain awake listening for Louisa’s footsteps, wondering if she would disappear into the night again, or if it was the knowledge that if he fell asleep the nightmares would return. This morning he felt haggard.
Louisa, by contrast, looked fresh and ready for the day.
‘Are you ready for our shopping trip today?’ Robert asked. If she was ever going to be seen out in public, she needed something suitable to wear and his housekeeper’s dress really wasn’t good enough.
Louisa looked down at her dress and ran the coarse material through her fingers.
‘I’ve grown rather fond of baggy grey dresses,’ she said with a grin. ‘It would be a shame to change my style now.’
‘And it is quite a style.’
He watched as she tucked into her breakfast and wondered whether this shopping trip was a good idea. He couldn’t deny she needed some new clothes. The dress she’d worn home from the asylum had been consigned to the bin and she couldn’t continue borrowing Mrs Kent’s dresses. No, he knew she needed to go shopping, but he wasn’t sure he was the one who should be going with her. If he’d found her attractive in the shapeless grey dress last night, he dreaded to think what response she might elicit from him as she paraded up and down in silks and satins.
Robert shook his head almost imperceptibly. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, not a young boy unused to controlling his emotions. For years he’d been able to maintain a stony exterior, hide what he was really feeling from the world. Compared to that, concealing a modicum of attraction for Louisa should be child’s play.
‘Why don’t we meet in half an hour?’ Robert said, standing to leave. ‘That will give you enough time to enjoy your breakfast.’
Louisa turned to him with a smile on her face. ‘I’m very much looking forward to today,’ she said.
Robert nodded, then beat a hasty retreat, not trusting himself to say a word.
* * *
Twenty-five minutes later Robert was standing in the hall, waiting for Louisa. He resisted the urge to check the clock again, knowing she would probably have interpreted his half-hour rendezvous time as flexible. Not everyone was as punctual to the minute as he was.
‘So where are we going?’ Louisa asked as she descended the staircase, a skip in her step. Robert thought she seemed more relaxed today and he knew his assurance she could leave at any time had helped her to trust him just a little more.
‘There is a modiste not too far from here,’ Robert said. ‘I’m told she’s one of the best in the city.’
‘Wonderful, I wouldn’t want anything less than the best. I am used to garments made of the finest fabrics and designed by the most talented dressmakers.’
Robert was slowly getting used to her sense of humour and even found himself smiling.
‘I’m not sure we can quite match the quality of the clothes you’re used to, but we can only try.’
He led her out to the carriage that waited for them at the bottom of the steps and took her hand in his to help her up. Her fingers were warm against his skin and Robert found himself holding on for just a little longer than was strictly necessary.
Once she was settled, he bounded up into the carriage and took the seat opposite her. They moved off almost immediately.
For a few minutes they travelled in silence. Robert watched Louisa as she stared out the window at all the grand houses. She was a little awestruck, but as they neared their destination he could tell she was becoming increasingly nervous. Although the expression on her face didn’t change, she was absent-mindedly wringing her hands together. Robert’s best friend, Greg Knapwell, had done the same thing before each and every battle they’d fought together.
He tried to work out why she was quite so nervous; it was only a dress shop after all. Then he realised she probably hadn’t ever been to a dress shop before.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ he said quietly.
Louisa spun to face him. ‘Why do you think I’m afraid?’
‘When I was in the army, a friend of mine used to wring his hands together before we went into battle, very much like you’re doing now.’ Robert surprised himself with his answer. He never talked about the war if he could help it. And if he was asked questions by some simpering debutante who thought he was ‘ever so brave’, he always answered in the vaguest terms possible. He didn’t think he had voluntarily brought the subject of the war up in the two years since he’d returned to England.
Louisa looked at him silently with her big brown eyes and Robert felt as though she were looking deep into his soul.
‘You lost your friend didn’t you?’ she asked eventually.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
‘I’m sorry. It must seem silly to you, my being afraid of visiting a shop, after all you and your friends went through.’
‘No,’ Robert said, ‘it’s not silly. Being nervous of the unknown is the most natural response in the world.’
‘You must find everyday fears a little ridiculous, though,’ Louisa said.
Wordlessly he shook his head, knowing he couldn’t tell her sometimes he was afraid to go to sleep, knowing the nightmares could start as soon as he allowed his mind to drift into oblivion.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of today,’ he said, steering the conversation away from himself. ‘I’ll be with you all the time.’
‘Surely not all the time,’ Louisa teased.
‘Well, not far away,’ Robert said, his voice gruff.
‘I worry what people will think of me.’
‘Don’t.’
He’d stopped caring what people thought when he realised he’d lost most of the people who mattered to him.
‘That’s your advice?’ Louisa asked. ‘Just don’t?’
‘That’s my advice.’
She grinned and turned back to the window. Robert was pleased to see she’d stopped wringing her hands together.
The carriage halted in front of a large shopfront and Robert watched as Louisa’s eyes widened in amazement.
He quickly hopped down from the carriage and once again held out his hand to help Louisa down. This time he didn’t let go, but tucked her hand into his elbow and escorted her inside.
They were met by a smiling woman who bobbed into a curtsy as soon as they walked inside. She looked from Robert to Louisa and back again, the confusion showing on her face. She had obviously seen the grand carriage stop outside the shop but was puzzled she did not know the mismatched couple who descended from it.
‘Welcome, sir, madam,’ she said.
‘I’m Lord Fleetwood,’ Robert said, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in recognition of the name, ‘and this is my ward, Miss Louisa Turnhill.’
‘It’s an honour to meet you both.’
‘Miss Turnhill has come to stay with me, but unfortunately all her clothes were destroyed in a fire.’
‘All of them?’ the modiste asked in disbelief.
‘All of them,’ Robert confirmed.
‘My name is Mrs Willow, this here is Lucy,’ the woman said as a young shopgirl stepped forward. ‘And this is Prudence,’ she added as another girl bobbed a curtsy. ‘We would be delighted to be of assistance.’
Robert stepped back as the three women crowded around Louisa and bustled her farther into the shop. He found a comfortable chair, placed so that he had a good view of the proceedings but was tucked out of the way.
‘How many items would you like to order for today?’ Mrs Willow asked.
Louisa glanced back over her shoulder at Robert.
‘Oh, just the one,’ she said.
‘She means one to wear away today,’ Robert corrected her from his position in the corner, ‘and six more to order.’
All four women looked at him in shock.
‘Of course, sir,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘And would these all be daytime dresses?’
Again Louisa looked at him for guidance.
‘For now, yes, let’s focus on the daytime,’ he said. ‘But if you keep her measurements, then we can order evening gowns at some point in the future.’
‘And what colours do you favour, Miss Turnhill?’
‘Anything but grey,’ Louisa said, smiling. ‘The brighter the better.’
Robert watched as Louisa was led round the shop and roll after roll of material was presented to her. She seemed to come alive with every minute as she discussed the luxury of one material and compared it to the comfort of another. He could hardly believe this was the same scared young woman he’d found in a cell in Lewisham Asylum just yesterday.
Every so often Louisa would glance his way, uncertain about a decision, and Robert would give her an encouraging smile. He liked that a small gesture from him was enough to give her the confidence she needed to prosper in such an unfamiliar setting.
‘So we have decided on materials and colours,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘Now we have to decide on style.’
Louisa was led behind a curtain by the two young shopgirls. Every few minutes Mrs Willow would carry another dress behind the curtain.
‘What do you think?’ Louisa asked shyly.
Robert looked up and felt his breath catch in his chest.
Louisa looked at him nervously, biting her bottom lip. Robert knew he had to say something, but suddenly his words had deserted him.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said eventually.
Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. She looked stunning. He hadn’t been able to even begin to imagine what had lain under the shapeless sacks he’d seen her in before. Now it was laid out for everyone to see. The dress nipped in at her slender waist and skimmed over her hips and the upper half accentuated her cleavage to maximum effect. Robert felt a sudden and unexpected stab of jealousy. He didn’t want anyone else seeing her like this.
He told himself to stop being so ridiculous. She wasn’t his to covet. She was his ward and he should be pleased she was so delighted with her new appearance.
‘I feel like a different person,’ Louisa said quietly.
As she smiled Robert knew it was a smile just for him and he felt the first stirrings of desire wake inside him. When she was happy, genuinely happy, she glowed.
The four women looked at him expectantly and Robert realised he’d cleared his throat in an effort to take control of himself. They were expecting him to say something.
‘The colour suits you,’ he ventured. He wasn’t an expert on fashion or materials, but no one could deny the emerald-green complemented Louisa’s chestnut hair and deep brown eyes exquisitely.
‘We’ll take it,’ Robert said to Mrs Willow. ‘That’s if you would like it.’
He turned back to Louisa and saw the hope burn in her eyes, but something was holding her back.
Discreetly Mrs Willow ushered the two shopgirls away so Robert and Louisa could converse in private.
‘What’s wrong?’ Robert asked. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I love the dress,’ Louisa answered. ‘And I love how it makes me feel. It’s just...’ She trailed off.
Robert smiled at her encouragingly.
‘It’s just I don’t know if I can afford it.’
Robert frowned.
‘I think Mr Craven spent most of my inheritance and I haven’t exactly been able to earn a living this last year.’
‘You’re my ward, Miss Turnhill,’ Robert said slowly. ‘It is my legal obligation to provide you with clothes and food and shelter.’
He saw her face drop at being called his ‘legal obligation’.
‘What’s more, it is my pleasure to buy this dress for you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She said it with such sincerity he knew she appreciated him not treating her as solely his duty.
Louisa took a step closer to him and for a second Robert thought she was about to embrace him. He felt a rush of pleasure surge through his body. Every single part of him knew touching Louisa would be a bad idea, but still he desired it.
The disappointment he felt when Louisa merely smiled at him was acute, but he forced himself to smile back.
‘We’ll take this dress as it is,’ Robert called to Mrs Willow. ‘It seems to fit her well. I’ll send someone to pick up the others in a couple of days.’
‘Very good, sir.’
Robert did not want to examine his reaction to Louisa in detail. He knew his newfound attraction towards her was wrong on so many levels. Maybe it was natural, he told himself. She was a good-looking woman who had been transformed into a beautiful butterfly in front of his eyes. And he was a man who had denied himself any sort of female companionship for so long. Perhaps his attraction towards her was to be expected. After all, she was the first woman he’d spent any sort of time with in the last two years.
Robert could only hope that was all it was. The last thing he needed was to desire any woman, let alone the one he was legally bound to until she came of age.
Chapter Seven (#ulink_fc5631ac-a268-5d10-920a-ced19360965a)
Louisa felt transformed. It was amazing how something as insignificant as a dress could make her feel like a real woman, not some crazy orphan who had been stuck in an asylum for the last year.
She glanced at Robert. He hadn’t said a word whilst the last few adjustments were being made to her dress, but she’d felt his eyes on her.
She couldn’t quite work out what his motivations were. He’d just spent rather a lot of money on making her look respectable and, more importantly, making her happy.
Louisa had been well loved by her parents. She had fond memories of shopping trips with her mother and indulgent presents from her father, but since their deaths she hadn’t received a single gift. Christmas had been a spartan affair with Mr Craven and she hadn’t even known what day it was to celebrate her birthday whilst she was locked in the asylum. Now here was Robert, a man she’d known for only a day, willing to spend money on making her happy.
‘Thank you,’ she said again as they left the shop, Louisa feeling like a new woman in her emerald-green dress.
Her gratitude was genuine, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. She didn’t understand why Robert was being so kind to her.
‘Why are you being so nice?’ she asked as they reached the carriage.
He paused before he turned to face her. ‘Nice?’ he asked, as if confused by her choice of word.
‘Yes, nice. How else would you describe how you’ve acted towards me?’
‘I’ve done what any man in my position would.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘My last guardian kept me prisoner in his house and stole all my inheritance.’ She shuddered. He’d done more than that, worse things, things she didn’t want to remember.
‘It’s what any decent man in my position would do.’
Maybe that was it, Louisa thought. Maybe he was a decent man. She hadn’t known many in her life.
‘You’ve taken me into your home, welcomed me into your life,’ she said. ‘That’s above the call of duty.’
‘After everything you’ve been through I could hardly send you off to live with some dreary relative in the country,’ Robert said.
‘I must have disrupted your entire life.’
He didn’t say anything. Once again Louisa wondered about his past. He hadn’t really told her anything about himself. Not that he had to, Louisa was just curious.
‘I’m sure I can take a few days out of my normal schedule until we get you settled.’
Louisa nodded. She hadn’t really thought much about the future. Only a few hours ago she’d been determined to set out on her own, disappear into the anonymous streets of London. After their talk Louisa had decided to give Robert and the life he was offering her a chance. If something went wrong, he’d promised he would let her leave and even help her with her independence. She hadn’t thought much past that.
The problem was Louisa still couldn’t quite believe she wouldn’t soon wake up from a dream and find herself back in the asylum. Her life had changed so much in such a short time.
‘Can we go for a stroll?’ Louisa asked.
Robert looked from her to the carriage, then nodded in agreement.
They set off down the street arm in arm and Louisa felt like a normal young woman out for a walk with her guardian. She wanted this moment to last for ever.
‘I know we have a lot to discuss,’ she said, ‘but can we pretend to be normal just for a little while?’
‘You don’t need to pretend, Louisa,’ he said. ‘Where would you like to go?’
She contemplated for a couple of seconds. ‘It’s a beautiful day—maybe a walk in the park? If there’s anywhere suitable nearby.’
Robert took his pocket watch from his jacket and glanced at the time. Louisa wondered if he had somewhere else to be and almost told him she didn’t mind going back to the house, not if he had other engagements.
‘How about a stroll through Hyde Park?’ Robert asked.
Louisa smiled. She couldn’t think of anything more appealing.
‘I’ve never been to a park in London before,’ she said as they walked arm in arm down the wide pavement. ‘I’ve never really been anywhere in London before, apart from the asylum.’
‘Your parents didn’t bring you here when you were young?’
Louisa shrugged. ‘I suppose we must have visited once or twice, but I don’t really remember.’ She felt the pang of sadness she always did when thinking of her parents. ‘You don’t realise at the time that every moment is to be treasured, do you?’ she said quietly. ‘Otherwise you’d make an effort to remember more.’
Robert stayed silent, but she felt the empathy emanating from him.
‘What do you recall about them?’ he asked after a couple of minutes.
Louisa hadn’t talked about her parents for so long. No one had been interested for so many years and if someone did bring up the subject she normally felt too upset to say much. Today, however, she wanted to talk. She wanted to tell Robert how she remembered her mother’s laugh and her father’s compassion. How her mother used to read to her before tucking her into bed and her father would whisk her up in front of him and teach her to ride on the back of his trusty horse.
‘They were happy,’ Louisa said. ‘Every day was filled with laughter and sunshine and smiles.’
‘It must have been a wonderful childhood.’
‘It was.’ Louisa knew she’d been lucky in her early years. Too many of her peers had absent fathers and downtrodden mothers. But Louisa had seen what true love could bring to a marriage. ‘I can’t ever remember being unhappy whilst my parents were alive.’
Robert remained quiet, allowing her to remember the happiness she’d felt for just a few moments longer.
‘It was some mysterious illness that killed them,’ Louisa said, surprising herself at how easy it was to open up to Robert. ‘The doctors didn’t know how they’d caught it or what it was, but one day they were both happy, healthy people in the prime of their lives and the next they were fighting a deadly illness.’
‘You didn’t get it?’ Robert asked.
Louisa shook her head and felt the tears welling in her eyes. ‘My father fell ill first of all, but when my mother succumbed she forbade my nanny from taking me to see her, knowing I would be in danger if I spent even a few moments in her room.’
‘So you didn’t see them before they passed away?’
Louisa paused. She’d seen them, and sometimes she saw them still in those quiet moments just before she dropped off to sleep.
‘I sneaked into their bedroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t understand why they’d kept me away.’ To this day Louisa could still remember the hideously sweet smell of the sickroom. ‘My father was quiet, I think he was very close to the end, but my mother was writhing and moaning.’
Louisa had screamed, thinking someone was torturing her mother, not understanding she was in the grip of a fever making her delirious.
‘I was bundled out, but I screamed and screamed until they let me back in the room. By that time my mother had settled and was sleeping fitfully.’
‘That was the last time you saw them?’ Robert asked softly.
Louisa nodded. ‘I kissed them both on the cheek and told them I would see them at breakfast. They were dead by the next morning.’
‘It must have been the end of your world.’
Louisa nodded. Robert seemed to understand her distress. She didn’t know what it was about him that made him so easy to talk to. She hadn’t told anyone about the last time she’d seen her parents before. Partly because no one had been interested, but also because she didn’t want anyone to see her so vulnerable. Even though she’d only known Robert for a short while Louisa had known he wouldn’t belittle her memory of her parents or the last time she’d seen them. He’d understand why it had been quite so harrowing.
‘When you lose someone you’re close to it leaves a gulf,’ he said slowly, ‘that never heals. In time we learn to bury that gulf, but it’s always there, under the surface.’
He said it with such compassion Louisa knew he was talking from personal experience.
She hoped he might elaborate. She desperately wanted to know more about this man who had saved her from a lifetime of misery, but at the moment she didn’t feel as though she could just come out and ask him. She knew he had been in the army, and that he’d lost a friend in the war, that much he’d let slip earlier on in the carriage, but other than that Louisa was pretty much in the dark as to Robert’s past.
‘So how did Thomas Craven become your guardian?’ he asked.
Louisa grimaced as she thought back to the first time her old guardian had shown up in her life.
‘I didn’t have any other relatives,’ Louisa said, trying not to think about how different her life would have been if she’d had a kindly aunt or grandparent left alive. ‘Mr Craven was my father’s business partner.’
Robert nodded, encouraging her to go on.
‘I hardly knew him. He came into our lives about six months before my parents died and convinced my father to invest in some scheme or another.’
‘But why did your parents make this man they hardly knew your guardian?’
Louisa shrugged. In truth she didn’t really know. She’d been so young at the time.
‘In the few months before my parents died he was around the house a lot. He stayed with us on numerous occasions. And he always made a show of fussing over me.’
‘Your parents trusted him?’
She nodded. ‘From what Mr Craven let slip over the years when he was inebriated, he’d worked hard to gain their trust. He thought they would leave him money in their will. He never even considered they would put me into his care.’
‘But your parents were so young, much younger than Craven. He shouldn’t even have thought about inheriting from them.’
Tears sprung to Louisa’s eyes. It was something she’d not been able to ignore over the years, but a question she knew she would never know the answer to.
‘Sometimes, when I’ve been particularly low, I’ve wondered how much of a role Mr Craven played in my parents’ deaths,’ she said slowly, wondering if Robert would think her crazy.
He didn’t laugh or roll his eyes. Instead he seemed to consider the idea carefully.
‘It does seem suspicious,’ he agreed. ‘It sounds as though Thomas Craven ingratiated himself with your parents, but with his death we’ll probably never know whether that was purely to get money out of them whilst they were alive or whether he had a more sinister motive.’
Louisa found herself nodding in agreement. It felt reassuring to have Robert beside her, supporting her and agreeing with her. For years she’d wondered what exactly had transpired between her parents and Mr Craven. She’d known she had no other relatives, but Mr Craven must have been a good actor to convince her parents he was a suitable guardian for their only child.
‘I just wish I had had an hour with him,’ Louisa said quietly, ‘to confront him and to force him to answer my questions.’
Robert squeezed her arm gently and Louisa felt his strength flowing into her. She had to accept she would never have answers. She would never know why her parents chose Mr Craven as her guardian and she would never know whether he had been involved in their deaths. In the past the uncertainty had upset her immeasurably, but today, with Robert beside her, Louisa felt herself letting go a little. Now was the time to look forward, not back. She might never have the answers to her questions, but she had her freedom and she had her entire life stretching out in front of her.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Louisa glanced sideways at Robert every few seconds. She wanted to know more about him. Just as she was plucking up the courage to ask Robert a little about himself, he paused and pointed to a gateway.
‘Hyde Park, Miss Turnhill. The first of many London parks I promise to take you to.’
The park was quiet at this time, only a few young children with their nannies running around on the grass and one or two groups of young ladies strolling under parasols.
‘We shouldn’t meet anyone at this time,’ Robert said as he guided her into the park.
Louisa realised that was why he’d checked his pocket watch earlier; he hadn’t wanted them to bump into anyone. She wondered if he were ashamed of her, but quickly dismissed the thought. It would have been easy to send her off to some far-flung corner of England, far away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of society, but instead he’d kept her here in London. No, Robert Fleetwood wasn’t ashamed of her, she thought it more likely he wanted to protect her from having to answer any awkward questions.
It felt strange to Louisa to have someone looking out for her. For years she’d only been able to depend upon herself. She didn’t think she would ever get used to someone else worrying about her welfare.
‘You have a very tough decision to make now, Miss Turnhill.’ Robert turned to her with a grave expression on his face.
Louisa’s heart dropped. She’d been enjoying not thinking about her circumstances for a few minutes.
‘You need to choose whether you’d like to go and take a stroll around the Serpentine or sample the delicious new delicacy all society are talking about: flavoured ices.’
Louisa pretended to consider her decision very carefully. ‘Are you sure I have to decide?’ she asked.
‘This is your outing, Miss Turnhill, your wish is my command.’
‘Then I wish to do both.’
Robert smiled one of his rare smiles and Louisa caught a glimpse of the carefree young man he must have once been. Again she wondered what had happened during the war to make him quite so serious and withdrawn, but she knew now wasn’t the right time to ask. They were having an enjoyable morning in the park and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.
They strolled arm in arm around the Serpentine. Every few minutes Robert would impart some bit of knowledge about the park or London, and Louisa would listen with interest. She loved the way he spoke, he seemed so knowledgeable about so many things. Louisa’s own education had been cut short—Mr Craven hadn’t thought it necessary to continue her lessons after her parents had died. Although she’d read hundreds of the dusty books in the old man’s library, it wasn’t the same as a formal education.
She realised she must seem completely uneducated to Robert.
He’d stopped at the water’s edge and together they stared out across the still water.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Louisa said, glancing at Robert. ‘I feel so lucky, being here with you.’
She turned to face him and felt the emotion welling up inside her.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for giving me a chance to experience the world for myself. Even if I was taken back to the asylum today I’d never forget the time we’ve spent together.’
Robert slowly turned to look at her and Louisa felt her breath catch in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.
‘This is your right, Louisa. Every experience and every new sight is something you deserve to have.’
Louisa felt her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. His words were said so passionately she understood how he had led troops into battle; she would follow him anywhere in this instant.
For seconds their eyes remained locked together. Louisa felt her body sway instinctively towards his and the gap between them closed.
She could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, just as much as she wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t move.
Louisa felt the confusion wash over her. She wanted him so much, she wanted him to devour her with his mouth, to lay her down on the grass and cover her body with his own. Never before had she known such a strong physical attraction to someone. Yet at odds with the primal urge she had whenever she looked at him was the small voice in the back of her head telling her to run, to get as far away from the generous man with the serious eyes as possible. Falling for him could only bring trouble. He would hurt her just like everyone else, no matter how kind and caring he seemed now.
Despite a myriad of doubts Louisa still wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his lips on her skin and shudder as he ran his fingers all over her body.
For a second she thought he was going to do just that. His eyes darkened and his breathing became a little heavier. Louisa held her breath.
‘Lord Fleetwood.’
Both Louisa and Robert jumped and took a step back.
‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’
Chapter Eight (#ulink_d7c836c2-d458-5dea-9fce-d85a64ba9040)
Robert couldn’t answer immediately; his brain had gone on an unscheduled holiday and left a mindless idiot in charge. He’d almost kissed Louisa. Again. Once was bad enough, but twice was unforgivable. And in a public park for anyone to see.
He forced himself to drag his eyes away from Louisa’s delectable mouth and turned to face the woman who was addressing him.
‘Mrs Knapwell,’ Robert said, his heart growing heavy as he realised who had interrupted them.
‘It’s delightful to see you, Lord Fleetwood, it’s been so long.’
Robert nodded, not able to find his voice.
‘And you’re looking so well.’
He grimaced. He didn’t feel well at all.
‘I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced,’ Mrs Knapwell said, turning to Louisa.
‘This is Miss Louisa Turnhill, my ward,’ Robert said stiffly.
‘Your ward?’ It was said with such incredulity that Robert had to suppress a smile. ‘I didn’t realise you had a ward.’
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Laura Martin
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: FROM THE DARKEST OF SHADOWS…After a year wrongfully imprisoned in an asylum, Louisa Turnhill can’t believe it when Robert, Lord Fleetwood, arrives to rescue her. As her new guardian, he’s there to take Louisa to his London townhouse – and a different life. … TO THE DAZZLING WORLD OF THE TON Thrust into an unknown world of debutantes and balls, Louisa starts to put her trust in Robert. But his life is tainted with darkness too, and with Society’s eyes upon them will they ever be able to shake off the secrets that once lurked behind locked doors?