Stranger in My Arms(79)

Lara screwed her eyes shut, but a tear squeezed out in spite of her efforts. She was almost sick with yearning.

She managed to collect herself by the time the carriage reached Morland Manor. Hall hidden in a grove of woodlands, the Tudor manor was fronted with half timbered walls and red brickwork that gave it an air of mellow charm. Outwardly poised, Lara directed a footman to convey the basket of delicacies and the parcel of books to the entrance hall.

She was kept waiting at the door for less than a minute before Captain Tyler appeared to greet her.

“Lady Hawksworth!” the captain exclaimed, seeming more perplexed than pleased. “It is a most unexpected honor-” “Forgive me if I’ve come at an inconvenient time,” Lara replied, giving him her gloved hand. “I only wish to give my regards to you both, and deliver a few gifts for Mrs. Tyler.”

“How kind of you.” His momentary bewilderment was replaced by gratitude. “Please come in and take some refreshment I’ll send a servant upstairs to inquire if Mrs. Tyler is resting, and perhaps she’ll be able to see you.

“You mustn’t disturb her on my account. I won’t stay long.” Lara accompanied him inside and removed her gloves and traveling bonnet. It was a warm day, and she pulled a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her sleeve to blot her moist forehead and cheeks.

Welcoming Lara into a small visitor’s parlor, the captain showed her to a scroll-backed sofa covered in flowered chintz. Lara arranged her skirts and regarded him with a smile as he occupied a mahogany chair.

Her initial impression of him was unchanged; he seemed a pleasant if serious man. But something about his intent gaze disturbed her, as if he were keeping an uneasy silence on a matter that concerned her.

“Lady Hawksworth,” he said carefully, “I hope it will not offend you if I ask after your sister’s health?”

“She is very well, thank you. And of course I would not be offended by your kind concern. Why should I?”

Tyler’s gaze lowered. “The circumstances of your sister’s illness make it rather awkward…”

“Yes, it is a scandal,” Lara said softly. “No doubt everyone in Market Hill has some opinion about it.

But the shame of the situation belongs entirely to Lord Lonsdale.”

Tyler folded his hands together, his fingers forming a temple.

“Unfortunately this is not the first time I have learned of such dastardly behavior on the part of a husband toward his wife, nor, I fear, will it be the last.” He hesitated before adding tactfully, “I only hope that Lady Lonsdale will enjoy happier circumstances from now on.

“So do I,” Lara replied. They continued the conversation for a few minutes, touching on neutral subjects before reaching the more personal one of Mrs. Tyler’s well-being.

“Dr. Slade assures us that if we follow his instructions, my wife and the babe will both have an excellent chance,” Captain Tyler remarked.

“And one can hardly disbelieve a man of his experience and wisdom.

Nevertheless I do worry. I am excessively fond of Mrs. Tyler. She has been a faithful companion through all the trials I have brought on her, most especially the years in India.”

Touched by his devotion to his wife, Lara dared to mention the question that had bothered her for some time. “Captain Tyler,” she said cautiously, “your mention of India reminds me of something I have wondered about.”

“Yes?” He was immediately wary, his black mustache twitching like the whiskers of a nervous cat.

Lara proceeded with care. “When you attended the dinner at Hawksworth Hall some months past, and you and Lord Hawksworth met… I somehow had the idea that you were already acquainted with each other.”

“No, my lady.”

“Oh.” She made no attempt to hide her disappointment. “There are so many events connected with India that my husband refuses to discuss.

For some reason I hoped you could shed some light on his experiences there.”

“I never met Hawksworth in India.” Tyler looked directly at her. An endless pause followed, and Lara sensed that a carefully maintained pretense was suddenly falling away. “However…” he said slowly, “your husband reminds me in some ways of a man I knew there.”

The statement seemed innocuous, but something warned her that it was an invitation to discovery. The hairs on the back of Lara’s neck prickled. The subject must be dropped at once, came the urgent thought.

“Indeed?” she murmured softly.

Captain Tyler regarded the woman before him speculatively. Such a gentle, unguarded face she had, with a luminous prettiness he had seen only in Rembrandt paintings.

From all accounts she was a kind, well-liked woman, passionate in her concern for those who were less fortunate than she. Of all people, she did not deserve to be used and betrayed… but that was the way of the world. Predators always sought out the weak and the vulnerable.

Tyler had known about the deception being practiced on Lady Hawksworth, but there hadn’t seemed a clear choice to make. For a man in his position, there were often no right choices, merely ones between lesser and greater evils. And he had found that his greatest mistakes had always resulted from decisions made in haste.

In this particular matter of the Hawksworths, Tyler had sensed that his duty would present itself gradually as things unraveled-and he’d known without a doubt that the situation would unravel.