Page 21 of An Impulsive Kiss (Captivating Kisses #2)

J udson headed straight for his solicitor’s office, wanting to get everything squared away regarding Antonia. He had no secretary, and so over the years, details such as this had fallen to Baker to attend to. Once he arrived, he was shown in to see Baker, despite the fact he had no appointment. He supposed that was the beauty of being a marquess.

“Good day, my lord,” Baker greeted him. “It looks as if marriage is agreeing with you.”

“Yes, I made the right choice in wedding Lady Huntsberry.”

The solicitor smiled shamelessly. “Oh, I knew she was the one for you, my lord. The fact you are a love match was obvious to me. Gentlemen rarely take such extraordinarily good care of a lady in the marriage contracts.”

In part, he had felt guilty in Lucy being forced into marriage with him, which was why he had wanted the contracts to favor her, but the largest part was wanting to do right by his new wife. He wanted her to be cared for if anything should happen to him, and he had wanted any future children looked after, too. For a moment, Judson wondered if he might have loved Lucy all along and hadn’t admitted it to himself.

“I do thank you for your help in drawing up the marriage settlements. I am here on another matter, however.”

“What can I attend to, my lord?”

“It is Antonia Amato.”

“Ah. The mistress.” Baker shook his head. “Is she asking for more, now that you are wed? A larger allowance or even larger house?”

“Quite the opposite.”

Judson explained how he had gone to break things off with Antonia, only to learn she was homesick and wished to return to Italy.

“She is from a town in the Tuscan region. Sienna. I told her I would make the arrangements for her to return home.”

Baker chuckled. “You mean I would make them for you?”

“Yes. I have no wish to see Antonia again. She was always kind to me, and I want to return the favor. Could you see to arranging her transportation, as well as ending the lease on the house she occupies? Also, she will need funds to use as she travels home.”

“I can handle these arrangements, my lord. What of the staff? Do you wish a small amount of money settled upon them before they are dismissed?”

“I may have need of them. Lady Huntsberry and I have decided to open my house in Surrey. She enjoys country living. Her cousin has wed the Marquess of Aldridge, and they happen to be our neighbors. We will see much of them while we are in the country.”

His solicitor now beamed at him. “I am very happy for you, Lord Huntsberry. I know you have avoided Huntsworth for the past decade.”

“We hope for a large family. Raising them in the country will be important.” He rose. “If you will handle the details regarding Miss Amato, I would be grateful, Mr. Baker.”

“Consider it done. And congratulations again on your marriage, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Judson left the solicitor’s office and hailed another hansom cab to convey him home. He hoped Lucy would be there by now. She had gone to meet with someone regarding new fabrics for the curtains in several of the rooms and also to discuss paint colors. He liked that they had opened many of the rooms in his London townhouse. Hopefully, the nursery might even be occupied when they came to town for the Season next year.

The driver dropped him at home, and he entered the townhouse. Clippman greeted him, saying, “Would you care for tea in your study, my lord? Lady Huntsberry has a headache and will not be coming down.”

“Is she all right?” he asked quickly.

“She seemed a bit pale and asked to be left alone. Annie told me that her ladyship wished to sleep.”

“Thank you, Clippman. No tea is necessary. I will go upstairs and check on my wife.”

He took the stairs two at a time, worried about Lucy. She always seemed the picture of health and had never mentioned headaches to him.

When he reached her rooms, he pushed open the door and softly closed it behind him. Crossing the sitting room, he tried to open the door leading to her bedchamber—and found it locked. Not wanting to knock and disturb her if she were sleeping, he retraced his steps and went to his own rooms, From them, he went through the bathing chamber and her dressing room.

And found the door to her bedchamber locked.

Concern filled him. Yet he did not want to overreact and have Lucy upset about him fussing over her.

He returned downstairs and asked Clippman, “When did Lady Huntsberry return from her appointment?”

“Less than two hours ago, my lord.”

“Send for Annie if you would. I will be in my study.”

The maid arrived several minutes later, and Judson asked, “Does Lady Huntsberry suffer from headaches often?”

“No, my lord,” the servant replied. “I can only recall one other occasion when Lady Lucy—Lady Huntsberry, that is—had a headache. It was a fierce one, though, and she slept most of the day and all the night. When she awoke the next morning, it was gone. She hasn’t had one since. That was three, maybe four years ago.”

“Thank you, Annie.”

The servant left, and Judson found himself unable to concentrate. He was worried about Lucy, and it consumed him. He forced himself to remain downstairs, though, knowing she needed her rest.

He ate dinner by himself, something he had done most of his life. After only two weeks of having Lucy as his dinner companion, though, he felt very lonely. He wondered how he had existed before Lucy had come into his life.

After dinner, he went upstairs and waited a few minutes before he couldn’t stand to wait any longer. He went to her bedchamber door and knocked softly, pausing to listen. When she didn’t respond, he knocked again.

“Lucy, love, are you all right? Is there something I can do for you?”

After a long pause, he heard, “No. Just leave me alone.”

Then silence.

Slowly, Judson made his way back to his own bedchamber. He told himself not to fret. That Lucy didn’t feel well. She needed her rest. Yet once he had summoned Tim and undressed for bed, he missed his wife. The large bed felt empty without her in it. He needed her warmth nestled against him. The sweet scent of lavender wafting off her skin. Judson lay awake for a long time, not knowing how to fall sleep without his wife in his arms.

He rose the next morning, ringing for Tim. The valet shaved and dressed him, and Judson headed downstairs to the breakfast room. Relief swept through him when he saw Lucy present at the table.

Going to her, he bent and kissed her cheek. For a second, he almost thought she cringed, which was ridiculous.

“How is your headache?” he asked, taking a seat to her right.

“Better,” she replied, focusing on buttering her toast points.

He was used to Lucy being cheerful and talkative. This morning, she was neither.

“Should I summon the doctor? You do not quite seem to be yourself.”

“No. That will not be necessary.”

She avoided meeting his gaze.

Something was wrong.

“Do you have plans today?” he asked, cutting a bite of the ham from the plate a footman had brought to him.

“Yes.”

Another succinct response. This was not the Lucy he knew. Judson wanted to ask her more, but he was keenly aware of the presence of the footmen and Clippman. Whatever needed to be said between them was a private matter.

After that, he gave up on conversation, and they finished their breakfasts in silence. When Judson saw she was about to rise, he asked, “Are you feeling well enough for our visitors at tea this afternoon? Or should we postpone?”

Her eyes widened, and he guessed she had forgotten she had issued the invitation. She said something under her breath, but he couldn’t make out what.

“I will be ready for them,” she promised, no warmth in her voice.

Before a footman could come to assist her, Judson stood and pulled out her chair from the table, even taking her hand and helping her to rise. Once on her feet, she pulled away from him.

He followed her from the room and kept his distance as she hurried up the stairs. Then he raced up them, wanting to speak to her before she locked herself inside her bedchamber again.

“Lucy,” he called, but she continued moving down the corridor, ignoring him.

Running now, he caught up to her, clasping her elbow before she could enter her rooms. She glared at him, shrugging him off.

“What have I done?” he asked, his eyes pleading with her. “Why are you suddenly so cold to me?”

She hesitated and for a moment, Judson thought she would reveal why her behavior had changed so radically. Then it was as if a curtain descended, hiding the truth.

“I must ready myself. Please ask Clippman to have the carriage readied.”

Then she stepped inside—and locked the door.

Defeated, he slowly walked down the hall, returning to the ground floor, instructing the butler to have the carriage prepared. Not wanting the servants’ pity, he retreated to his study, where several minutes later, he saw his wife step from the house. She spoke to the coachman for almost a minute, and then a footman handed her up into the carriage. Judson had no idea where she went.

Nor why he was being punished.

*

Lucy sat in the carriage, cold determination filling her. Breakfast had been absolutely awful. Even if Judson was treating her disrespectfully, it was hard to stay mad at him. He had looked at her with such anguish as she had spoken coolly to him, and she had almost opened up and told him what she had accidentally seen yesterday, him kissing his mistress.

She had spent much of last night awake, reliving memories from the past two weeks, which had been the best days of her life. Lucy wanted more of those days in the future.

But first, she would need to deal with this mistress.

Determination filled her. She was not going to be the good girl she had always been, the child who never caused her parents a moment’s worry. Today, she was going to stand up for herself—and her marriage.

She had instructed the coachman to take her back to where they had been yesterday. He had reluctantly agreed to do so after she reminded him that he worked for her and her husband and if he wished to retain his position, he would drive her where she requested. Lucy had never abused her authority, but she realized the driver had probably driven Judson to the address many times and knew she planned to confront the mistress.

On the way there, she debated what to say. Her thoughts were so scrambled that she finally decided she would have to speak spontaneously. She only hoped her mission would be successful.

The carriage slowed, and a footman opened the door. Normally jovial, he merely handed her down, averting his eyes. Lucy ignored her racing heart and dry mouth and marched to the door, rapping upon it, wanting to retch. She swallowed, trying to calm herself.

The door was opened by a servant. “Yes?”

“I am Lady Huntsberry. I wish to speak to your employer at once.”

The servant’s eyes widened. “Lady Huntsberry? Oh, my.” She looked over her shoulder and then back at Lucy. “Would... would you please come in, my lady?”

“Thank you,” she said crisply.

Lucy swept by the woman, whom she guessed to be the housekeeper from her dress and manner. Several boxes sat on the floor next to the staircase, along with a trunk.

“The parlor is this way, my lady.”

She followed the servant into a cozy parlor and took a seat, afraid if she didn’t, her knees would give out and she’d tumble to the floor. Still, she kept her posture erect and held her head high.

“I will let Miss Amato know you are here, my lady.” The housekeeper fled the room, closing the door behind her.

“You are here for a good reason,” she told herself quietly. “You are here to try and save your marriage.”

She repeated this silently several times until the door opened again. The dark-haired woman from yesterday came into the room and looked intently at Lucy for a moment. Then she glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you, Mrs. Worth. You may continue supervising the packing.”

The woman the servant had called Miss Amato approached her, and Lucy was taken with her beauty. Flawless skin. Deep brown eyes. Luscious lips. A figure that would appeal to any man.

“Good morning, Lady Huntsberry. I am Antonia Amato.” She took a seat. “How may I help you?”

“By keeping your hands off my husband,” Lucy said brusquely. “And getting out of our lives.”