Lucas slept fitfully in the Greymoor traveling carriage for the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, his jaw throbbing in pain from the blow dealt by Lord Bridgerton only a handful of hours before. He could even still feel the sting from Lady Mary’s slap on his left cheek.

After a few scant hours of jostled sleep, he rode the rest of the way to Leighton Castle on horseback impatient to make up on time. He had sent the majority of the staff from Greymoor House in London to Leighton Castle the day before, thus when he arrived home early in the morning directly from Bridgerton House, the townhouse was eerily quiet.

He made his way to the study where he dashed off letters to Constance to inform her of his and the Bridgerton family’s imminent arrival and to seek her assistance in lending out a few members of her staff to help shore up the numbers needed at the Greymoor ancestral estate. From what he gathered in his reports from the housekeeper serving there, a Mrs. Holloway, the castle ran on a skeleton crew of no more than thirty servants, many of them in their dotage. He intended to pension off the elderly servants, but from what Mrs. Holloway stated, many wished to remain at the estate where they had served the family loyally for decades.

The second letter was to Spencer to let him know he would be absent for the next several days if not for the rest of the season. He made a special note asking Spencer to check in on Lily at The Hothouse. Lucas knew Madame Blachet would not expel Lily for at least a fortnight as Lucas had given Rose enough coin for board while the young prostitute recovered. He made a mental note to check in with Lily as soon as he returned and to find her a better situation.

The last letter was to Mustafa Ahmed, the Bow Street runner, who was set to sail in a few days to America. He updated the runner on his intention to remove himself to Leighton Castle and to reach him there if something urgent occurred. Lucas still could not shake the apprehension that there was something that he overlooked in the past few weeks. He was distracted, unfocused, exposed , and he knew precisely the reason why.

Edwina .

Lucas arrived at Leighton Castle as the sun was setting, having switched out his horse twice at passing coaching inns to make the journey all within a day. The Bridgertons, as the viscount told him as he left their house earlier in the morning, would begin journeying to Leighton Castle soon after Lucas, but planned to stay overnight in a village in between as they will be traveling in a larger group. The entire Bridgerton family would be joining Lucas except for the dowager viscountess and her third daughter, Francesca. Both of them intended to remain in London as the younger Bridgerton girl was expecting a proposal from the Earl of Kilmartin in the next few days. Lord Bridgerton had already given the young man his blessing.

That meant that Lucas had less than a day to prepare for the arrival of the Bridgerton family and Edwina. He grimaced to think what state he would find Leighton Castle in. The last time he visited the mansion, he was only ten years old when his father had been summoned by the former earl, his grandfather. It was an unpleasant trip to say the least. Especially what came afterwards.

Lucas thundered through the iron-wrought gates of the estate and around the bend lined with overgrown oak trees. A lake shimmered with flecks of orange and gold as the sun set to his left. From either side of him, he saw what were once fields of lavender dry and dead, crumbled to dust in the wind.

Leighton Castle loomed before him, a behemoth rising up against the darkening sky. Leighton was truly a castle, originally constructed in the fourteenth century as a stronghold for King Henry V during the Hundred Years War, with gray basalt stone that ended in parapets and domineering towers. It was only missing a drawbridge and moat, the moat being filled in generations ago and the drawbridge dismantled and replaced with large granite steps that lead to ornately carved oak doors.

Over the centuries, the castle was renovated under the different hands of the earls of Greymoor, and Lucas could see the traces from every decade. The gothic touches in the tall and narrow lancet stained-glass windows that lined the front of the castle and the ribbed vaulted ceilings Lucas knew he would pass through in the main hall. The Tudor extensions couched on both sides of the castle, smooth flat-faced limestone with wide, rectangular windows. And, the most recent addition by his cousin, the beginnings of a gazebo in the middle of an overgrown garden.

Lucas passed the small graveyard attached to the family chapel. The graveyard held the remains of generations of Blakeleys, of the former earls and their families, including Lucas’s own father. The most recent grave was of his cousin, William Blakeley. Lucas hadn’t attended William’s funeral. His cousin’s solicitors scrambled to locate his heir in America, only to return empty-handed. It was only then that a letter was sent to Lucas informing him of William’s untimely demise.

Lucas rode straight to the stables and was relieved to find them clean and well-kept. One of the stablehands took the reins of the horse as he dismounted. With a quick inspection, he saw that half the stalls were occupied with horses. William admired horseflesh and was often at Tattersalls to add to his collection. Constance confided to Lucas once that William was entertaining the idea of turning Leighton Castle into a stud farm, a way for the castle to earn an income.

Which brought around the problem that Lucas was currently burdened with now that he was Greymoor. What to do with Leighton Castle?

Lucas walked toward the castle. From where he stood, he could see the rot growing on the facade, the collapsed roof in the east wing, and the wild and overgrown gardens. William, though a conscientious husband to Constance, was not a conscientious steward. Lucas did not blame him. Leighton Castle was a monstrosity, the upkeep an upheaval to the income brought in from all the other landed properties.

And, it was entailed, which meant Lucas could not sell it even if he wished. He could not demolish it without a petition to Parliament. He was stuck with it for as long as he lived.

Perhaps, Lucas thought as he approached the wide entry doors and nodded at the two elderly footmen awaiting his ascent, he ought to let it fall to ruin. It would be a fitting end for his family and the Blakeley name.

***

The next morning dawned with a cloudless blue sky and a promise of several hot summer days ahead. Lucas rose early as was his habit despite wandering the halls like a ghost late into the night. After dinner, Lucas had sent all his servants to bed to rest before the flurry of activity that needed to take place before the Bridgertons arrived.

The servants slept belowstairs which left Lucas alone in the cavernous castle, his footsteps echoing off the walls, the cold moonlight the only source of light. He carefully made a pass through the common rooms, many of which displayed evidence of William’s hard work to modernize the space. New pieces of furniture waited to be assembled. Stylish drapes in dark blue and silver hung at the windows. The red brick hearth in the drawing room was half torn from the wall, ready to be replaced by clean, squared-cut granite.

As he expected, many of the rooms were closed off, the furniture within draped with white slipcovers to keep off the dust, making them appear in the dark of night as silent sentinels, waiting for someone to take notice. Wallpaper peeled from the walls. Paint chipped and faded, flecks of which crunched underfoot. The entire roof for the length of one hall in the east wing had collapsed, exposing the interior to the outside elements. Pieces of timber were waterlogged from past rains and rotting.

When he found the gallery, Lucas froze. Portraits of all the former earls of Greymoor lined the walls, some painted with their wives and children, some alone except for a faithful hunting hound by their side. He knew at the end of the long hall what he would find and swiftly left the space, an icy apprehension left in his wake.

Ghosts and lies.

Lucas knew that this week with Edwina was purgatory, a temporary stay before final judgment. She deserved happiness. She deserved the truth. She even told him once that she respected him because he kept nothing from her, but she was wrong. He kept everything hidden from her. He felt the weight of all the secrets, the lies, suffocating him, reminding him again and again why Edwina could never be his.

All thoughts of ghosts and lies dissipated with the sunrise. Lucas forced both from his mind. He needed to make a proper survey of the castle and the surrounding lands, including the tenant farms.

More importantly, he needed to speak with the staff to ensure that they were prepared to host the Bridgertons. His skin grew clammy at the thought of entertaining the family for the next few days. He hadn’t a notion on how to do so, the whole reason why he had decided to take on a wife in the first place.

Edwina would rise to the occasion, Lucas thought. He had watched her in the past few weeks move with grace within the ton. She could easily take this task in hand, and perhaps, teach him something about how to operate in her world.

He shook his head. But, that was not to be. She didn’t want him. Well, she may want his fevered kisses, his rough hands on her silky skin, him on his knees, his face pressed between her thighs, but she didn’t want to marry him. She wanted someone like Lumley, cultured, a damned poet , who also moved with ease through Society.

He needed to let her go. No, there was nothing to let go. He never had her in the first place. He could never have her.

The sound of a carriage driving up the walk jarred him out of his thoughts, sending a shot of panic through him. It was too early for the Bridgertons to have arrived. He wasn’t prepared to receive them, to see Edwina.

When he made his way down into the main hall, relief flooded him when he found Constance removing her cloak and passing it off to Simmons.

“You did not need to come all the way from Longmont Abbey,” Lucas said. He pressed a kiss on Constance’s pinkened cheek in greeting. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

“I could not stay home when I received your letter. I cannot believe you invited the Bridgertons to visit Leighton on such short notice. Are you mad?”

“I fear I am,” Lucas said with a forced smile. “How much trouble am I in?”

“Much less now that I am here.”

Lucas saw the sudden strain on Constance’s face as she examined the space around them, her eyes tearing slightly.

“Thank you for coming,” Lucas said, reaching out to her. She took his extended hand as he drew her arm into his. “It cannot be easy.”

“Because this used to be my home?” Constance blinked hard. Constance lost her husband only after three brief years of marriage when William died tragically from a fall off his horse. “It is not the castle that I miss, nor the role as its mistress. It’s the memories. The grand plans that William had for this place.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Promise me, Lucas, that you will try.”

He didn’t need to ask Constance to explain her meaning. His mind turned to Edwina, enclosed in a carriage that was rapidly narrowing the distance between them. Lucas swallowed the promise he knew he could not keep.

***

Edwina sat back in the carriage seat across from her mother and Kate. The other carriage that followed behind them held Eloise and Hyacinth. The Bridgerton brothers decided to ride for most of the trip to Leighton Castle. Gregory, the youngest Bridgerton brother complained loudly when they arrived at the inn last night of saddle sores. Pregnant and coddled nearly to death by her husband, Kate stated that she would gladly trade places with her youngest brother-in-law. He could sit in the carriage with his sisters while she rode in his place, wind in her hair, freedom with every gallop. Gregory snapped his mouth shut at the remark and silently went to his horse the next morning determined to ride out the rest of the journey with his brothers.

Yesterday, Edwina spent most of the journey pretending to sleep to avoid conversation with her mother and her sister. It was not much of a pretense as the late night at The Hothouse, the thrilling events leading up to finding Lily, and the hours of tirelessly stitching up the young prostitute’s back, in addition to the long lecture from Anthony when she and Lucas returned to Bridgerton House, exhausted Edwina to the point of collapse. Her mind was filled with anxiety over Lily. And, she was trapped between anger and despair over Lucas’s admission that he had planned to leave London for his ancestral seat. He knew she would refuse to let him call off their arrangement, so he made plans to leave her instead.

But, she could not employ the same strategy again without appearing obvious. So, once she settled in her seat, both her mother and sister looked at her with pointed expectation.

Edwina sighed. “What do you wish to know?”

“The truth for one,” her mother said. “What happened between you and Lord Greymoor?”

“I’ve already explained, he is my teacher.”

“To become a…surgeon.”

“Yes, I do not understand why it is so hard to believe! To want something more out of my life than to be married to a gentleman.”

“Is this because of what happened last season? With Anthony?” Kate asked.

Edwina blinked back hot tears. She wanted to deny it, but the word slipped out. “Yes.” Kate’s face fell.

“But, not in the way you think,” Edwina rushed forward. “I do not begrudge you Anthony. I truly do not. I see the love between you two and I know it is something that Anthony and I would never have had. He never looked at me like how he looked at you. He never would have loved me as a man should love his wife. He merely saw me as a means to an end. Perhaps, no more than another sibling to care for.”

“Then, what is it?” Kate implored. Her sister reached out and clutched Edwina’s hands.

“I want the love that you and Anthony share. And, I don’t want to settle for anything less. I just don’t believe I will ever find it. I don’t trust my own judgment after last season. I thought I found it with Anthony only to be proven painfully wrong.”

“Lord Greymoor has not declared himself?”

Edwina let out a rattled laugh. “No, no, of course not. Our relationship is not…” What was her relationship with Lucas? Her mother was right to doubt that it was solely that of teacher and student. Did Edwina want more from him? Yes, she knew with certainty. She wanted Lucas’s love.

Benedict’s warning at the Danbury ball echoed across her mind. That Lucas was different from other men and only cared for his work. He did not allow himself to feel any tender emotions. He could not.

But, no matter how severe Lucas acted, Edwina had seen proof otherwise. He cared for, no loved , his patients. She told him once that he had oceans of love within him. She was a fool and would be satisfied with a single drop, if only he would give her that much.

Kate and Mary exchanged a worried glance, before her mother asked, “What does your heart tell you?”

Edwina hastily wiped away a tear. “That I fear that I love him and that he doesn't love me in return.” Her mother had asked for the truth and that was it, Edwina realized. She had fallen in love with Lucas.

Kate squeezed her hand. Edwina blinked back her tears and smiled at her sister, whose brows furrowed in thought before smoothing over, determination replacing concern. “Do not worry, bon . All will be well.”

***

It was late in the afternoon when Edwina caught her first sight of Leighton Castle in the distance. She gasped out loud as she took in its massive stone edifice, towering over the flat lands like a slumbering dragon. It looked like the castles from the fairy tale stories Kate used to read to her as a child and for a fleeting moment Edwina wondered if the carriages would be met with rows of medieval herald trumpeters.

“This is the ancestral seat of the earls of Greymoor?” Kate asked in stunned wonder. “It must house a hundred rooms, maybe more.”

When the carriage pulled to a stop, Edwina saw that Lucas stood on the top of the steps dressed immaculately in a dark blue jacket, a silver waistcoat, and buff-colored trousers. His long hair was smoothed over and pulled back into a queue. A plump blond woman stood at his side, her arm through his. Even from a distance, Edwina could see that she was beautiful and Edwina felt a disheartening stab of jealousy.

Edwina waited until her mother and sister climbed out of the carriage, giving her a moment alone to settle her nerves, before exiting. She was immediately greeted by Lucas, who waited at the side of the carriage to hand her down. His hand felt warm and firm under hers as he guided her down the carriage steps.

“Miss Sharma.” Lucas bowed correctly over her hand before relinquishing it. He watched her closely. “I trust your journey was uneventful.” His face did not betray any emotion. It was like a blank page and Edwina was overcome with a wave of resentment that he could handle their meeting so easily while her heart felt like it was hammering out of her chest. But, of course, he did not know that she loved him.

Edwina noticed the silence that fell around them, though no one stared openly, she knew her family were listening intently. So instead of doing what she wanted, which was to throw herself into his arms or beat against his chest for thinking he could leave her behind in London, she smiled placidly. “Yes, of course.”

He nodded and turned toward the blond woman who watched them with interest. “May I present you to the Countess of Greymoor.” Edwina’s stomach dropped. Had Lucas married overnight?

The lady gave Lucas a repressive look as if she knew precisely of the panicked thoughts that flew through Edwina’s mind, before she said, “Constance, please. I was married to Lucas’s cousin, William Blakeley, the previous earl.”

Oh, of course. Edwina took in the woman’s delicate black crepe dress. The woman was in mourning. “I am sorry for your loss.”

Lady Constance gave her a sad smile before pushing Lucas aside and looping her arm through Edwina’s, surprising both Lucas and Edwina in the process. “If you will come with me, we will have you settled in your room before supper.”

Edwina had no choice but to follow the taller woman. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Lucas standing stiffly by Anthony as he greeted the rest of the family. Footmen dressed in the Greymoor silver livery busily gathered their trunks to carry to their rooms.

“I am so pleased that you decided to visit Leighton Castle, Miss Sharma. Actually, may I call you Edwina?”

“Yes, my lady.”

The countess snorted delicately. “Truly, please call me Constance. I mean it.”

Edwina smiled. “Constance it is.”

Edwina craned her neck and took in the main hall. The gray marble floors below their feet were scratched and scuffed. The ceiling soared overhead, ending in giant stained-glass windows. She noticed that one of the windows was shattered, sending a cold draft into the long hall. Constance followed her gaze.

“The castle needs much work, but I am sure Lucas will be up to the challenge.”

Edwina bit down on her tongue before she could say that Lucas was already terribly busy with his practice and his teaching post at the college, that both were monumentally important to him, more so than a decrepit castle whose best option might be a complete demolition. But, that wouldn’t be fair. The castle was beautiful in its own way. Too cold to be a home, but it could be something else if someone possessed the right kind of imagination.

“We will be situating you and the others in the family wing. Unfortunately, the guest wing is in complete disrepair, but, I promise the west wing, well most of it, is habitable.” Edwina followed Lady Constance up the stairs. She turned to see a series of footmen leading the rest of the Bridgerton family to their individual rooms that lined the hallway. Lucas wasn’t with them. To her confusion, Lady Constance turned the corner and kept walking, farther away from the other rooms.

“Here we are,” Lady Constance said, slightly out of breath, as she pushed open the door and Edwina’s jaw dropped.

The room was beautifully decorated in silver and blues, the colors of the Greymoor family, but without the austerity that clung to the earldom. There was a softness, a femininity, in the thick velvet drapes that hung from the tall windows and draped around the canopy of the bed situated in the middle of the room. The furniture in the room was made of sturdy oak, stained dark, and carved with intricate sprigs of lavender. Medieval tapestries hung off the gray stone walls around a hearth so large that Edwina could stand in it. There was an open door on the far left wall that Edwina presumed led to a dressing room.

“Once upon a time,” Lady Constance began as she moved into the room, indicating to the carving on the bed frame, “Leighton Castle grew acres and acres of lavender. So much so that it was picked and used to create scented soaps and oils and sold at the nearby village, some even sent to London markets.”

“Oh, I am fond of lavender oil myself. I often add a drop or two into my bath,” Edwina said. Lady Constance startled at her words, her blue eyes growing wide then thoughtful. Edwina continued as she approached the window, “I would have loved to have seen them.”

The room faced west and Edwina could see a lake sparkling in the near distance. She squashed down a thrill of joy knowing that the lake would alight like fire in the setting the sun.

“A few still grow wild in the spring. I believe I still have a bottle or two of oil from the last harvest and I will send it to you when I return home.”

“Thank you.”

The sound of a closing door drew both of their attention and they turned to find Lucas standing at the opened door between Edwina’s chamber and the next, his hands frozen in the middle of unbuttoning his jacket. The surprised expression on his face matched Edwina’s own as it suddenly dawned on her which room she was standing in.

Lucas’s eyes darted to Lady Constance and back to Edwina, staying on her as she watched his eyes darken and his jaw clench. Edwina felt her blood thrumming under her skin from his stare. She licked her lips, his eyes dropping down and catching the movement. He stared at her lips a minute longer and took a half step forward as if drawn to her, before stopping tense in his tracks.

“Oh, there you are,” Kate said, making her way into the room before falling silent when she caught sight of Lucas standing at the adjoining doorway. Anthony followed closely behind his wife.

“No, absolutely not,” Anthony said, his brow thunderous. “We will switch rooms with Edwina.” Kate placed a hand on her husband’s arm as he made to turn to summon the footmen. He stilled, giving her a beseeching look, but Kate shook her head slightly.

“This is your room,” Edwina said in a near whisper.

“ Was ,” Lady Constance corrected, though the flush on her face betrayed her intent. She situated Edwina in her former room on purpose. But, why?

The countess cleared her throat. “Do not be anxious, Lord Bridgerton, the door will be locked and there is only one key.” She withdrew a large brass key from her pocket and passed it to Kate. Kate stared at it for a moment before placing it in her own pocket.

“Miss Sharma will be quite safe. I promise,” Lady Constance said, her blue eyes twinkling.

***

“What are you up to?” Lucas escorted Constance to her awaiting carriage to return her to Longmont Abbey. It was early in the evening but at the height of summer, the sun still hung low in the sky. The Bridgertons had retired to either their individual chambers or the drawing room after the long two days of travel for a respite, freeing Lucas of any hosting duties for the evening. He intended to lock himself away in the study, far away from Edwina. From the visceral reaction he had to her presence earlier from seeing Edwina standing at the foot of her bed, he needed many locked doors between him and Edwina.

“The fete? You do not believe your guests would enjoy a day of games and dancing?” After supper, Constance had invited the Bridgertons to Longmont Abbey for a summer fete to take place the day before the family departed back for London. The event was meant to celebrate the summer solstice and to introduce Lucas to their neighbors and his tenant farmers as the new Earl of Greymoor.

Lucas cast her a sidelong look. “Do not play with me, Constance. Situating Edwina in the countess’s chambers.”

Constance beamed up at him and shrugged one shoulder. “Just a little push in the right direction.”

“Only foolishness will come of this,” Lucas scolded as he handed her into her carriage.

“I certainly hope so.” Constance winked at him before the footman shut the door.