Page 21 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
He gazed at his son, feeling a fierce love sweep over him. He was not ashamed of Benjamin. The circumstances of his birth were not his fault. He was an innocent in all of it. He hadn’t asked for any of it. His mother had abandoned him. It washismoral duty to look after the boy, even if it went against the dictates of society.
But not everyone thought the same way as he did. And Hetty might just be one of them.
***
That night, in the nursery, he read a bedtime story to Benjamin, sitting in the rocking chair, next to the window. The little fellow was asleep, snuggled into his chest, with his mouth open, before Louis had even finished the story.
Louis closed the book, gazing at his son. He was still a baby, even though he could walk and talk, now. His face was still chubby. Gently, he traced a finger down the line of Ben’s face. The boy stirred but did not wake.
A fierce wave of protectiveness swept over him. How could Rachel have walked away from him? She had given birth to him. She had carried him, within her own body, for months, feeling him grow, and kick, and take on form. And yet, she had never had that maternal instinct with him, right from the moment of his birth. Even during the months of her confinement, she had never expressed excitement at the thought of meeting her baby. She had been detached, even then.
He vividly remembered a time when he had visited the house on his estate where they had been living just after Ben’s birth. The wet nurse was on a break, and Rachel was alone with their son.
He heard the baby’s howling before he even entered the house. He had rushed in, wondering what was happening. The boy had been in his crib, crying desperately, small hands waving in the air in his distress. While Rachel was standing at a window, looking out, not even acknowledging the baby’s cries in any way. He had picked up the baby, soothing him, holding him close. That had been the first warning for him that she was not attached to Ben in the way that she should have been.
Gently, carefully, he stood up, clutching the sleeping boy, so as not to wake him. When he laid Ben in his small bed, pulling the blankets up, the boy opened his eyes for just a moment.
“Papa,” he mumbled before promptly falling back to sleep again.
Louis’s heart clenched. No, he would never regret that this beautifulboy had come into his life. He was just so very sorry that he couldn’t legitimise him. That Ben would always be considered a bastard to the world at large.
And yet, the fact that Rachel had abandoned the boy meant that he was now free to pursue Hetty. If Rachel had stayed, he did not doubt that he would be married to her now. It had always been his intention to wed her once he was financially secure enough to do so. He would have sacrificed everything, so that his son could be legitimate.
A cold shiver ran through him at the thought of being married to Rachel. It would not have been a happy union. He had not loved her, but more than that, Rachel was a cold woman, in her heart of hearts. Nor had they ever had anything in common.
He remembered their stilted conversations, during the months of her confinement, and after Ben’s birth. They had no shared interests, nothing to connect them. A brief moment of passion was the only thing that had ever tied them together.
He straightened, thinking about Hetty. It was completely different with her. Their connection was obvious to him, even if she was still fighting it. It wasn’t just about physical desire. There was a lot more to it than that.
He sighed deeply. If he had pursued her after they had first met, they might be happily married now. It would have saved them both a world of pain. And yet, he could not wish it. For if theyhadmarriedback then, and he had never met Rachel, then Ben would never have existed.
He sighed again. It was a conundrum. But he needed to stop looking back. The present was what mattered now. He had been given a second chance with her, and he was determined not to blow it. Even if he had to have the patience of a saint.
His resolve was strengthening again. Hewouldwin her heart. And they would procure the divorce for her. He had to believe that there was light at the end of this tunnel, or else, what had it all been for?
Chapter 10
Hetty’s heart skipped a beat as she walked alongside the Duke towards the top of the hill. He had returned. She had told herself that she was not waiting for him, but she would be a fool, now, to say that it wasn’t a pleasant thing when he came back to Hillsworth House. How much he brightened her days.
When he left, thundering down the lane away from her home, the days seemed colourless and insipid and grey. She would pace the house restlessly, unable to put her mind to any pursuit. She could not focus on embroidery, or the pianoforte, or even any of her books, which usually absorbed her.
The days when he was back were totally different. They seemed to exist in bright colour. The sun shone brighter; the sky was bluer, and there were more movements and sounds. He never told her much about the essential business that he had just returned from. But he would fill the room, almost overtaking it, with the charm of his personality, and his commanding physical presence.
Today, when he had returned, he had carried two big books, which he had presented to her, eagerly watching her reaction as she took them, studying them intently.
“Thank you,” she had whispered, a bit overcome. They were old books about the Plantagenet princes in the Tower of London, who had disappeared centuries ago. “I cannot wait to read them!”
He had grinned. “They are from my collection, in the library at Warwick Manor,” he said. “You can have them on loan.” He hesitated, staring at her intently. “I hope that when you finish reading them, you can return them yourself.”
She had blushed, not knowing what to say at all to that.
And now, they were out on an excursion. They had travelled by carriage to get here. An excursion to see Wardour Castle, an ancient site in Wiltshire. She had been unable to suppress her cry of delight when he had told her where they were going.
The carriage was parked in a country lane, and they were walking now to reach the top of the hill, where the castle’s ruins stood. She had heard about Wardour Castle but had never been here before. She glanced back at her mother and father, who had accompanied them. They were puffing slightly at the walk. She had surged ahead, eager to get there, and the Duke had kept pace with her, not even breaking a sweat.
Now, they were here. The grey castle loomed in front of them. They stopped, for a moment, taking it in.
And then, as if they had spoken, they both started walking eagerly towards it.
