Page 69 of The Duchess in His Bed
“There is a good deal more.” Her voice was low, soft, as though it was forbidden to disturb the quiet of the place. “Come along.”
The massive residence was a warren of hallways, parlors, sitting rooms, stairways. Every bit of space was bold, larger than life, as though giants had once resided within these walls. Her portrait hung above a fireplace in a blue room, her gown a darker hue that contrasted with the draperies and furnishings. It was as tall as she was, had been painted true to her form. She was young, a lass really, but she held herself as though she carried a great weight on those narrow shoulders. “When did you have the portrait done?”
“A few months after we were married. I had barely turned eighteen.”
In the portrait, her eyes held no laughter, little joy. They belonged to a woman who had married out of love—to protect her family—but not for love. He knew she would do so again, would do whatever was necessary to see her sisters happy. The artist had captured her temerity in the firm set of her mouth, the angle of her chin, the square set of her shoulders. She stood there, a warrior prepared to do battle. She might as well have been wearing a suit of armor, a sword raised high in defiance. She would sacrifice herself on the battlefield of happiness for those she loved.
Sitting on the terrace, looking out over the elaborate gardens, she knew Aiden was impressed with all he’d seen. How could he not be?
She had heard of the splendor of Sheffield Hall but had not seen it until after she was married. It had overwhelmed her to realize she had become mistress of all that lay before her.
Nibbling on a small square of cucumber sandwich, she peered over at her guest who had spoken very little as she’d taken him through the assortment of rooms. She’d pointed out the duke’s bedchamber and given him leave to peer inside. She had not invited him into her chamber beside it, although it seemed as they passed it that a stillness came over him, even as they carried on. He had spent a great deal more time than she would have expected in the nursery, and she wondered if he’d been envisioning his son lying in the bassinet with its lacy canopy. Every aspect of the residence was elaborate, screamed wealth. No expense had been spared by previous dukes to display their power.
“After luncheon, we’ll take a stroll through the gardens, shall we? Twelve acres that represented Lushing’s pride and joy. He did love his gardens.”
“He did the work himself?”
She laughed lightly at the absurdity of any noble toiling in the soil, getting dirt beneath his nails. “Oh no. But he designed them, then hired others to bring to life what he’d envisioned. Some areas are extremely calming, others invigorating.”
Ahead of them was a fountain, Poseidon leaping from it, his trident in hand. The babbling water always brought her a sense of peace. She finished off her sandwich. “Is it what you expected?”
“More so.”
“Does it hold sway over you?”
He shifted his gaze over to her. “It’s impressive. And it certainly calls to my greedier instincts. Don’t you feel guilty about what you’re planning? It’s theft, sweetheart.”
“I can’t afford the luxury of guilt at the moment. It is not thethingsthat I want. It is the prestige, the position. We once had two hundred guests visit. Every bedchamber occupied. Tents were erected on the lawn for those who didn’t warrant a bed within the residence. I planned the guest list and the itinerary. The Prince of Wales took several suites of rooms. I was terrified I would get something wrong. But I handled it all with aplomb, never let on that I was trembling in my slippers, because that was what was expected of me. We’ve had foreign dignitaries in residence. I was ever the gracious hostess here, at the other estates, in London. They say that nobles do not work. Well, I worked. Not backbreaking labor but soul-crushing endeavors that often prevented me from eating or sleeping because of worry that whatever I did would be found lacking. And because I wanted Lushing to be proud, proud he’d taken me to wife.”
“I can’t imagine that he wasn’t.”
“He certainly never made me feel as though he wasn’t. Still, in the end I didn’t give him the one thing he required: an heir.”
“That responsibility could have rested with him.”
“People always view it as the fault of the woman. I can’t help but believe, however, that his vanity would find solace in my giving birth to a child presumed to be his heir, so his manhood would not be doubted.” She glanced back toward the lush gardens that were presently a sea of white. In a couple of months, they would be blue, then red in the height of summer. The flowers had been chosen based on when they bloomed so the blossoms became a rolling tide of colors that changed with the seasons. “Because while the woman is held accountable, whispers about the man do emerge. He was undeserving of any sort of ill gossip. He was incredibly kind, sometimes I think too kind for this world. And remarkably tolerant of those not of his class. I think he’d have liked you and you him.”
After taking a small sip of her white wine, she settled back against the chair. “So what say you? A leisurely stroll through the gardens and then we’ll away back to London?”
“We’ll be staying the night.”
She shot up quickly. “I beg your pardon?”
He gave her a laconic look beneath half-lowered lids. “I’ve not finished seeing all I wish to see. I want to view the stables, ride out over the land, visit the village—”
“But you can simply look about you and see how majestic everything is. I don’t understand why seeingevery little thingis so important to you.”
“Because if I decide in your favor, and fortune smiles on you and gives you a boy, I may never actually see my son playing here. All my memories of him will be what I create in my imagination. His riding a hobbyhorse. Sitting on your lap in the library while you read him a story. You expect me to be like my father, to plant the seed and be done with it, to never give my child another thought. I don’t know if I have it within me not to wonder. I think you’ll be a marvelous mother, but even that, I may never witness.”
The earnestness of his answer made her ashamed that she was even asking of him what she was. “As we discussed before, we’ll find a way for you to spend some time with him.”
“Stolen moments here and there. But so many lost to me. And I will never be able to acknowledge him as my son—not even to my family. Lena, I’m striving to ensure that if I embark on this deception with you, that I do so with no regrets. For once begun, there will be no going back.”
She turned her attention to the blooms that the gardener managed to coax into opening even during the chilliest of winters, but now spring was emerging. White for innocence and yet she’d fallen far from any sainted position. Was she being unfair to this man, unfair to Lushing? “I won’t be able to accompany you. It wouldn’t do for the villagers to see the recently widowed duchess out and about. And we wouldn’t want, years from now, someone remembering and remarking on your visit to Sheffield Hall.” It was risky enough for the servants to know he was here, but they adored her, and it was unlikely they would see anything sinister in his presence.
“I’ll be most discreet.”
So against her better judgment, she took him to the stables and ordered that the duke’s stallion be readied. Lushing had loved his animals, and she was rather certain he would approve of his horse being given the run of the grounds and beyond. While she knew the stable lads were taking him for a daily canter, she had little doubt the beast would find it a treat to be ridden by one who she instinctually knew would give the horse his lead while remaining in command. She was not at all surprised to see how well Aiden sat a horse. Nor was she surprised by the pang in her heart as she watched him gallop away, knowing a day might soon arrive when his leaving would herald his never returning to her.
