With Love, Louisa by Ashtyn Newbold
Chapter 18
Finding a suitable steward was more work than Jack had anticipated. There were many men willing to pursue the job, but only one had seemed qualified to manage a household the size of Benham Abbey. Over the last week, Jack had been traveling to town and back every day, as well as gathering recommendations from the servants that remained in his house. He had hired two scullery maids on his own, as well as three new footmen. With each new arrival, he had ensured Louisa approved of his choices.
“I’m not certain about the footmen,” she had said, chewing her fingernail.
“What are they lacking?” He had thought all three young men were suitable for the job.
“If, perchance, my friend Margaret comes to work here, I did promise…” the pause that followed had lasted at least ten seconds. “I promised that they would be very handsome.”
Jack chuckled at the memory from a few days before as he rode his phaeton back home. Louisa had eventually agreed that Margaret would be content with the appearance of at least one of the three footmen. He had hardly stopped laughing about the conversation since it had occurred. There were many things about Louisa that kept him smiling throughout the day, even when they were not together. He found himself eager to see her again at dinner each night, and when he returned from town and she wasn’t home, often visiting the Lovells, he found himself waiting near the door until he saw her.
He was like a deuced puppy.
After dinner each night, she retired early to her bedchamber, sliding the lock into place on her door. He had done all he could to ensure she felt safe, but she still felt the need to lock herself away. It puzzled him, but he was determined to solve it.
That day, when he walked through the doors, she was already home, sitting in the drawing room, the door halfway open. He had heard her voice from the entry hall, but then he heard another voice. A man’s voice.
He walked through the drawing room door, removing his hat. Mr. Northcott sat on the sofa across from her, and she poured him a cup of tea before glancing up. A shy smile crossed her lips, and the tea dripped onto the saucer. She looked down, jumping as the hot liquid touched her hand. The teapot clattered to the tray, and she quickly wiped the tea off her hand with her skirts. Her face flamed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered to Mr. Northcott. Her eyes met Jack’s again, and she gave a quiet laugh. “I didn’t know when you would be coming home.”
Jack walked forward, unable to stop the smile from climbing his own face. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Did you burn your hand?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, pursing her lips as she focused on pouring a second cup of tea.
Jack studied her profile, chuckling at the way she avoided looking at him with Mr. Northcott watching.
Mr. Northcott stood to greet him, his gaze shifting between Louisa and Jack with deep curiosity.
“I didn’t know you would still be in town,” Jack said. “I am glad to see you have found Yorkshire so appealing.”
Mr. Northcott smiled, glancing at Louisa again. “In truth, I stayed to ensure Louisa was settled. As soon as I help Miss Lovell find work, I will be on my way back to Larkhall. My brother is managing it while I am away.”
“Is your brother trustworthy?”
“Indeed,” Mr. Northcott said, the end of the word raising like a question.
“Then you might stay here a little longer than you planned. I haven’t yet introduced you to my sister, Cassandra. You both came to the wedding, but I failed to make proper introductions.” It wasn’t often that men as amiable and wealthy as Mr. Northcott came into their area of town. Jack had never tried playing the role of matchmaker, but if he could help his sister meet an eligible gentleman who he approved of, he would try his best.
Louisa caught Jack’s gaze, shaking her head subtly. He frowned. Why would she oppose the match?
Mr. Northcott cleared his throat, taking a step back. “I will be quite busy while I am here. I have limited time for social calls. In fact, I ought to be leaving soon.” He offered a friendly smile. “It was a pleasure to see you both, and I am glad to hear Louisa is comfortable here.”
Jack nodded in farewell, watching with confusion as Mr. Northcott took his leave of the room.
Louisa shook her head with a tsk. “You should not have said that.”
“What did I say wrong?” Jack chuckled, sitting on the sofa beside her.
“Matthew does not take well to matchmakers, although he has attempted to be a matchmaker himself.”
Jack frowned, picking up the cup of tea Louisa had poured for him. “It isn’t as though I said I wanted him to court my sister. All I said was that I hoped they could become acquainted while he was here.”
“That is like putting a snake in front of a horse and expecting it not be spooked.” Louisa raised one eyebrow, shaking her head. “Matthew will never marry. I have been told as much many times.”
Jack laughed, crossing his arms as he settled into the cushion behind him. “That is the same thing Cassandra says.”
“Really?” Louisa’s eyes widened. She looked far too enchanting that day, with her hair piled high atop her head and her lips pressed together in surprise. For a moment, he found himself distracted from the conversation at hand, memorizing each of her features instead.
Oh, yes. She had asked him a question.
He nodded. “My sister also claims she doesn’t wish to marry,” he said, “but I believe she only says so as a way to hide her disappointment. She does not expect at her age that she will find a match.” Jack’s guilt stabbed at his chest. The disrepute he had brought upon their family had not helped her situation.
Louisa’s eyes grew heavy. “Any man would be very fortunate indeed to marry Cassandra. As for Matthew, he has given up. He had his heart badly broken years ago. I do not know the details, for he refuses to speak of it, but it was enough to stop him from considering marriage at all. I do believe he considered it again when my sister was visiting Larkhall, but unfortunately she injured his delicate heart again.”
Mr. Northcott had not struck Jack as the sort of man with a delicate heart. If he did have such a heart, he disguised it well.
Louisa turned her gaze to Jack, her eyes wide and thoughtful. The simple glance made his heart melt to a puddle. Blast it, had his own heart become just as delicate at Mr. Northcott’s? “I wish we could help them,” she said. “Matthew has been very kind to me, and Cassandra has been very kind to you.”
His sister had been the only one to continue reaching out to him. His mother likely feared overstepping his father’s wishes, but Cassandra feared nothing when it came to ensuring others felt loved and included. Even though she liked to start arguments with him and throw his brandy out the window, he still wanted her to be happy.
Jack grinned. “If only we had willing participants, I suspect you and I could be very skilled matchmakers.”
Louisa took a sip from her teacup, the corners of her mouth curving upward. Her eyes peeked at him mischievously from over the rim. “We would indeed.” When she set the teacup down, he found his gaze drawn to her lips. He tried to focus on his own words, but it was becoming increasingly difficult when watching her speak was so much more captivating.
“Well,” he said with a sigh. “I already know you are trying to find the perfect footman for your friend Margaret.” He leaned slightly closer to Louisa on the sofa. Even the slight change in the distance between them made his heart pick up speed.
“You were not as helpful as you should have been,” she said, her voice suddenly serious and pensive. “The three you hired did not have the appearance that Margaret prefers.”
He laughed. “I apologize that I did not consider asking. Hiring footmen is not like planning a menu for a dinner party.”
That earned a smile from Louisa, one that made a crease appear in her cheek. The laugh that followed sounded more like an embarrassed giggle. “Matchmakers must consider these things. For instance, Margaret has a preference for men with light hair. She is not opposed to men with dark hair, but she does have a preference that I had to consider.”
Jack chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the way Louisa wriggled uncomfortably while offering that explanation. It was cruel of him, but he would make her squirm a little longer. “And you? Are you opposed to men with dark hair?” He raised one eyebrow, throwing her a grin.
She scooted away from him, laughing. “Yes. I am thoroughly opposed.”
He moved closer, trapping her against the right arm of the sofa. “You should have told me as much before agreeing to marry me. Are there any other preferences I should be aware of?”
The sound of her quiet giggling was far too contagious. The pure delight on her face made his heart skip a beat—or several—as he awaited her response.
Her features grew serious for a brief moment as she examined his face. “I have always preferred straight noses. Perfectly straight.”
His jaw dropped as her laughter intensified.
“You are vicious today,” he said, shaking his head. And yet he still wanted to kiss her as thoroughly as she had just insulted him. His leg was pressed against hers on the sofa, her back against the edge. If he moved his arm just a few inches, he could wrap it around her waist and pull her the rest of the way to him. The temptation swirled through his mind relentlessly as she tipped her head back, giggling at his expense.
When her laughter finally subsided, her gaze returned to his face. The moment her eyes met his, her caught her gaze flicker to his mouth before falling to her lap. He smiled as he watched a hint of color creep over her neck and ear. Her eyes flickered back to his, a hint of curiosity behind them. Her smile was shy as she examined his face. “In truth, I think it suits you quite well.”
It took Jack a moment to recall what they had been speaking of. “My nose?”
“Yes,” she said through a laugh. “It was far too perfect before.”
“There is nothing perfect about me,” Jack said with a smile. “Now my nose reflects that.” He paused. “Does that mean you noticed how perfect my nose appeared before it was broken?”
“No,” she stammered. The guilty tone of her voice belied her answer.
Jack grinned. “You did.”
“I did not.” Though she glared at him, laughter still hovered in her voice.
It was his turn to be relentless. “There is something else I saw you noticing about my face just now.”
Louisa scoffed with disbelief. “And what is that?”
“My lips.”
She gasped and turned her face from him, likely to conceal the color. “I did not.”
His stomach ached from his laughter. Teasing Louisa like this was not the way to entice her to kiss him, but he couldn’t help himself. She had been thinking what it might be like to kiss him, and she knew it.
“Is it so ridiculous to think your husband has a fine set of lips?”
“Stop!” She covered her face with her hands, laughing enough to make the sofa shake.
He obeyed, waiting silently until she uncovered her face, just enough to peek through her fingers. “Why do you take such pleasure in embarrassing me?”
“I only take as much pleasure in it as you take in insulting me.”
His gaze caught on a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyebrow. He leaned closer, lifting his hand to brush it away from her eyes. His heart hammered in his chest as she gazed up at him. Her eyes were wide, filled with caution and curiosity at once. His throat went dry, his lungs leaden and weak.
Louisa shifted, looking down at her lap. Jack pulled his hand away. He had to be careful not to frighten her. Every glance they shared, every brief touch was like putting a serpent in front of a horse, just as she had described Mr. Northcott. Louisa could be easily spooked if he wasn’t careful.
“Well…” Louisa began, as if searching for something to break the silence. “If we already failed to find Margaret a good match, perhaps we should return our efforts to Matthew and Cassandra.” She sat up straighter, reaching for her teacup. Jack noticed a slight tremor in her hand as she lifted the cup to her lips. She sipped, then swallowed. “However, I do think Matthew’s nature might be too reserved for Cassandra. I suspect she needs a man with a little more freedom and vigor in his spirit.”
Jack chuckled, pretending he hadn’t noticed the abrupt change in subject. “I wouldn’t approve of my sister marrying a man who chooses to walk the grounds barefoot if that is what you mean.”
“Well, it is not your approval she would be seeking.” Louisa said. “Your father would be the one to deem the man worthy of her.”
At the mention of his father, Jack stiffened. Louisa sipped from her teacup, watching him out of the corner of her eye. It was the first time she had casually brought his father into a conversation. She was likely hunting for a reaction from him, something that might give her insight into his relationship with his father and why it had suffered. Jack had almost told her what had happened when they were in the gardens nearly one week before, but he had been too afraid. How differently would she look at him if she knew he had been the cause of his uncle’s death? Would she agree with his father? His heart stung at the thought of Louisa looking at him the way his father did.
He pulled his thoughts back to her question. Rubbing his jaw, he nodded. “I think my father would approve even of a barefooted man if it meant Cassandra was happy.” Jack set his teacup down on the table, the cup clattering louder against the saucer than he had intended. “He adores her.”
It was true. His father loved Cassandra far more than he loved Jack. She was the eldest child, but she was a daughter, not a son, and therefore Jack was the one who would inherit the estate, much to his father’s dismay.
Louisa shifted in her seat, curiosity burning in her eyes. “Does he? I wish I had become better acquainted with your father, but I’m afraid I hardly had the opportunity to speak with him at the wedding.” She fiddled with her skirts, something he had noticed she did when she was nervous. “I should like to visit your family again and have the opportunity to learn more about your parents. May we go to—”
“No.” Jack shook his head.
Louisa shrunk back in the sofa, her eyes wide.
Guilt immediately flooded his chest, and he tried to soften his interruption. “I—I do not think it is wise for me to try to visit them.” He leaned his elbows onto his knees. “I am not welcome there. I have been told many times.” His jaw tightened, and he looked down at the floor.
“Are you certain there is nothing that could change that?” Louisa asked. Her voice was gentle, unraveling the emotions that had begun building inside him.
“I will always be inadequate.” He sighed. “We can live with the intention of never repeating our mistakes, but we still cannot erase the past.” He shook his head, avoiding her intent gaze. “I live each day wishing I could.”
Louisa said nothing for several seconds, not moving. Then, suddenly, her hand touched his arm. The simple gesture brought a surge of emotion to his throat, and his heart picked up speed. He met her eyes, and she looked down at her hand rather than holding his gaze. “What happened?” she asked in a hesitant voice. “What caused this discord in your family?”
He stared at her downcast lashes until she finally looked up at him. Hopeful was indeedthe perfect word to describe her. She had too much faith in him. She hoped that the man she married was good and noble. How could he disappoint her? If she knew what he had done, she would never look at him the same way again. He felt like he was beginning to make progress with her, and telling her about his family and his past would only drive them apart again. Louisa would regret who she had agreed to marry. She would be afraid of him.
She had already told him that she thought he was careless. If she knew what his carelessness had cost five years ago, she would never believe that he could change. Even if she knew it was an accident and not a murder as Evan Whitby believed, it would still change her opinion of him. And her opinion of him was the only one that mattered. It was all he truly cared about. He wanted to impress her, to make her happy, and to give her a place to belong. But who would want to belong with a monster?
Jack swallowed hard. “That is a tale for another day,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Disappointment flickered across her features, and she moved her hand away from his arm. Her brow was furrowed as she picked up her teacup and took a sip, avoiding looking at him.
Within a few seconds, she stood from her place beside him on the sofa. She always seemed to find a reason to leave shortly after he joined her in the drawing room each day. Today, he did not blame her. Withholding the truth from her would keep her from becoming close to him, but so would telling her the truth. There was no way to escape her disappointment in him either way.
“I think I will go visit Margaret today,” Louisa said with a false smile as she walked toward the door.
He watched her go, his heart sinking in his chest.
