She might lead him upstairs and take advantage of such a large bed. She might delve into the hat box and snatch the red and black mask, have their own illicit masquerade.
By the time the carriage rattled to a stop in Russell Square, her pulse was racing.
Before the footman opened the front door and came to offer assistance, a loud rap on the window made them both jump back in shock.
Terence Lockhart pressed his face to the glass. “Where the hell have you been?” he mouthed.
Hudson hesitated, and his wary gaze flicked in Claudia’s direction. Mistrust lingered in his eyes. “No doubt he thinks I’ve kidnapped Father. Or perhaps he’s seen Justin’s bruises and wants to know why I’ve taken to beating my own cousin.”
“Well, you can sit here inventing stories, or you can open the door and find out.”
Terence knocked on the window, his gaze darting left and right. He tried to open the door from the outside, but Hudson grabbed the handle and gripped it in his strong fist.
Lockhart gritted his teeth. “As God is my witness, if he lays a hand on you they’ll still be looking for his body five years from now.”
Claudia leant forward and touched his knee. “Open the door, Hudson.”
Exhaling a weary sigh, Hudson released the handle. He opened the door and said, “What do you want, Terence?”
His brother climbed into the carriage without invitation, slammed the door shut and dropped into the seat next to Claudia. “Tell your coachman to drive, drive anywhere.”
“Tell me what the hell
this is about.”
“What it’s about?” Terence asked incredulously. “It’s about the fact you’re alive and didn’t bother to tell me. It’s about the fact you turn up here, ignorant to the scheming villain at work and presume to ride roughshod over all of us.”
Hudson sat forward, his eyes as dark and dangerous as any devilish fiend. “Do not dare lecture me when you’ve left Father to rot in his room. The man has spent the last damn month in a laudanum-induced sleep.”
Unable to contain his anxiety, Terence thumped his fist on the roof and shouted, “Drive!”
The carriage jerked forward. The brothers’ voices carried a similar cadence—though Claudia didn’t melt a little inside when Terence spoke—and with the order given from within the confines of the carriage, it must have confused the coachman.
Hudson did not protest when the vehicle picked up pace. “Is there a reason you cannot take tea in the drawing room and converse like any other civilised person?”
Claudia shuffled closer to the window. The tense atmosphere proved suffocating. A volatile energy vibrated in the air, so volatile she wouldn’t be surprised if either brother lashed out.
“I’ll not have the servants listening to our conversation,” Terence snapped. “I’d rather avoid being the topic of gossip in the saloons tomorrow.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Hudson mocked. “Better to avoid scandal than to fight for the truth.”
A brief silence ensued.
“We seem to be singing from different hymn sheets,” Terence said. “I don’t know why you have an issue with me.”
Hudson glanced at Claudia, his brows raised in amazement at his brother’s ignorance. “Perhaps it might have something to do with the fact you’re avoiding me,” he said to the brother whose jaw was less defined, lips too thin. “Or could it be that you’d rather spend your evenings pandering to Mrs Fanshaw when your father is ill in bed?”
Terence flopped back in the seat. A mirthless laugh escaped him. “That goes to prove my earlier statement. You’re charging around, completely ignorant of the facts.”
Hudson’s cheeks turned crimson. Fire flashed in his eyes. “Then tell me what the hell this is about.”
“It’s about five miserable years spent with a woman who still loves you. It’s about the fact our cousin is determined to steal our inheritance, and my wife will do everything possible to ensure she bleeds us all dry.”
* * *
The sudden revelation defused the tension in the air.
Lockhart remained silent. No part of Terence’s dramatic monologue came as a shock. Indeed, Selina had professed her love at the theatre and yet they were empty words. Unlike Claudia’s declaration, they lacked real sentiment. He had not felt the truth deep in his bones.