Page 46 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)
Her eyes widened, her lips pressed together, then she took a step back. “As I said,” she muttered, voice uneven, “it is a mista—”
Something came over him. Something entirely out of his control but exactly what he wished to do deep down. Before she moved too far, he stepped forward, slipping an arm around her waist, and pulled her to him. The movements felt practiced, though they were anything but.
No, not practiced. Right. They felt right.
He looked down at her, his eyes desperately conveying everything he could not bring himself to say. His throat was too full of the reasons they could not be.
Her chin tilted, and that was all the welcome he needed. Softly, he pressed a kiss to her lips.
She returned the pressure, leaning into him in a way that nearly had him groaning. Her hands came to his arms, just above his elbows, and her fingers gripped as tightly as he held her to him.
He tilted his head, hands sliding up her back until one cradled the nape of her neck and the other splayed between her shoulder blades. His lips moved across hers as she pulled even closer.
A yell from somewhere in the house drew his attention, but it was as if the sound were coming from miles away. His brain quickly deemed it unimportant compared to what he was in the midst of doing. His hold tightened against her.
Another yell sounded. Miss Faraday startled, breaking their connection.
He very nearly pulled her right back to him, but she stepped back, concern etched across her flushed face. The shout came again, and this time, he could tell it was his name being called. He and Miss Faraday shared a look.
Lucas made for the door.
“Lucas!” It was Charlie’s voice.
“I’m here!” he yelled back, running for the stairs. Charlie met him before he reached the landing. “What is wrong?”
“Blast man, what is your club doing?” Charlie gasped, his expression a mixture of anger and panic.
“What do you mean?”
“Your club! That blasted club I followed you to! I just had two men set upon me outside White’s. They warned me off using my boxing as a front for poaching their employees.”
Miss Faraday caught up with them. “Charlie, your arm!”
Charlie lifted his arm, and Lucas saw that the shirt was torn and the arm was bleeding.
Charlie’s panic and anger seemed to be fading but only just. Replacing those emotions was a mixture of shock and exhaustion.
The corner of his mouth lifted as he looked at Miss Faraday.
“It seems I may need your doctoring again, Lydia.”
The exchange of Christian names did not escape Lucas, but he could not focus on it now. He turned to Miss Faraday. “Will you find my parents?”
“They’ve left for the evening, an hour ago—a house party with some friends in Hampstead.” Miss Faraday’s eyes were wide. “They will not be home until tomorrow. I could have a servant call them?”
Charlie swayed, and Miss Faraday deftly stepped up and slipped her arm around him. “Come,” she said. “Lie down and tell us what’s happened.”
Lucas led the way into the drawing room, his mind briefly catching on the fact that, for the second time in a handful of weeks, his mother’s rug would likely be bled on. What had his life come to that his family members were bleeding in their own home? Where had he gone wrong to cause this?
Miss Faraday helped Charlie onto a dark damask chair, immediately kneeling beside him to pull back his torn shirt and inspect the cut.
Lucas crouched down beside them. “Who did this?”
“How would I know? Two thugs grabbed me before I could hail a hackney, roughed me up, warned me to leave the... Heavydoor Canals?”
“Heatherdown?”
Charlie pressed his eyes closed, grimacing as Miss Faraday pulled back more of his shirt. “Yes, that’s it.”
Miss Faraday stood. “I need to get supplies,” she announced then left the room in a hurry.
“What in the blazes are you wrapped up in, Lucas?” Charlie hissed.
“Nothing that should have come to this.” He’d never told Charlie to stay home. He was supposed to warn him, but he’d been so wrapped up in his own concerns that he’d forgotten. How could he forget something like that?
“Well, leave the blasted Heatherdown Company alone. I’m growing exhausted of being on the receiving end of pugilists’ blows.”
“Did they say anything else to you?”
“I don’t know, it was hard to hear with them boxing my blasted ears.”
“Charlie, this is serious.”
“I am serious, Lucas! I’ve just been beaten up, man!” He groaned, leaning back. “Ah, my blasted ankle is throbbing.”
Miss Faraday came back in the room, not batting an eye at the two yelling men. She pushed between them, coming to her knees beside Charlie again. “This is going to sting,” she declared, giving him only a moment before she dabbed something onto his cut.
Charlie ground his teeth.
Lucas stood. “I need to speak with someone. You two stay here and do not leave.
Miss Faraday did not look up. Her eyes focused on Charlie’s cut, but concern colored her voice. “What do you intend to do?”
“Nothing dangerous. I will be back this evening.”
She nodded, and Charlie’s eyes were pressed shut. With one last look at the both of them—a look that sent frustration and anger coursing through him at what had happened to his brother yet again—he quit the room, calling for the butler to get him a horse.
Within minutes, he was riding for the club. Much as he’d held on to a desire to do his good quietly and secretly, apparently that was no longer possible.