Page 70 of The Duchess in His Bed
He’d galloped over the verdant green, taking the cool country air deep within his lungs, until he reached the edge of England and could stare out over the glorious blue sea. No soot, no stink, no grime to make a man always feel in need of a bath. Although he knew that wasn’t true of the entire area. He understood that when he stopped in at the local pub where miners took a pint, along with farmers and laborers. He wondered if the duke had owned mines, if he’d gone down into them to encourage the men. For some reason, he suspected he had. He wondered if those trips had weakened his lungs, had contributed to his succumbing to influenza.
He didn’t bother to engage with anyone, merely observed and eavesdropped, tried to get a sense of how the nobility in the area were regarded. It seemed the duke and his duchess were greatly admired, and the locals voiced a worry or two regarding how their lives might change if the duchess didn’t produce an heir “right quick.” He found it inconceivable that a child’s birth should affect so many.
But he also decided Lena was no doubt correct: he’d have liked the duke.
From the village, he traveled at a more sedate pace. After delivering the horse to the stables, he strode back to the manor, not much liking the gladness that swept through him when Lena emerged, having obviously been on the watch for his return. He didn’t want to contemplate how very much he would like to have her greet him anytime he returned from anywhere.
“Did you see all you needed to see?”
He nodded as he came to stand before her. How difficult it was not to take her in his arms and lower his mouth to hers, but it wouldn’t do at all for the servants to see anything untoward pass between them. He wanted to reach out and press the crease between her brows until it disappeared. “It’s impressive. Gorgeous really. So much space. I think after a while, however, I’d become a bit antsy.”
“Lushing liked the openness of it, but he had few fond memories of the place. His father was most strict when he was growing up. Then they had their falling-out, and it was years before he was able to return here.”
“Disappointing a father was certainly nothing I ever had to worry over.”
“Was it difficult growing up without a father?”
Slowly he shook his head. “My mum was a strong woman, like you. She was all I needed.”
Her eyes softened, her cheeks pinkened. “Even when you’re a bit put out with me, you still manage to flirt with your little compliments.”
“I’m not flirting if what I say is true.”
Her lips twitched. “More flirtation, but never mind. I feared you might not arrive in time. I want to show you something.” With her left hand, she grabbed her right, and he wondered if she’d been on the verge of taking his and had to remind herself it would not do.
He followed her inside, through a maze of hallways until eventually they came to the area where the tower loomed. The curved wall and spiral staircase told him where they were. Without stopping, she began ascending the stairs, giving him a lovely view of her backside as he trailed up behind her. At the top, she opened a door and led him out onto the crenelated walkway. When she had traversed half of it, she turned to face him, her features wreathed with a solemn joy.
“This was always my favorite part of Sheffield Hall.” She nodded away from the roofline behind them.
When he looked out, he couldn’t stop his breath from hitching at the sight of the angel gilded in late afternoon sunlight, giving the impression the wings weren’t spread to signify its protection of the manor but instead to declare, “Behold all that is glorious and beautiful!”
Within the carriage or from his perch atop the horse, he’d seen the green and the hedgerows and the trees. He’d seen the land stretching out before him. He’d caught bits of acreage here and there and thought he could assemble all of it into a whole. But from up here, the massive estate spread out in all its glory as the waning sun bathed it in cooling twilight.
Perhaps it was because no servants were about or the waist-high height of the wall provided some protection from prying eyes, but without taking her gaze from the marvel before them, she threaded her fingers through his and squeezed.I love it here, she might as well have announced.See what I see and love it as well. I’ll bring your son up here and share this sight with him.
And he imagined her doing just that. Being kind and loving and introducing her child to a world that far eclipsed anything he could offer. It was unfair, to look from on high and to see unfolding before him all that his child would possess.
All it required of him were a few nights of being lost in mad, passionate lovemaking—not a hardship at all—
And then walking away, never, ever, to look back.
Because he’d come to realize what she had yet to understand: a life lived in shadows was no life at all.
Chapter 19
Dinner was decidedly more formal than luncheon. They took it in what she described as the small dining room, which meant the table sat only about a dozen people. She’d offered to let him borrow the duke’s dinner attire, but he wasn’t about to don anything that would remind her of her late husband, although he suspected being in residence did that well enough.
Conversation was stilted, sparse as though they both had other more pressing matters occupying their minds. Now and then, her lips moved as though she was contemplating the wisdom of forming the question and he knew precisely what it would be:Have you decided?
If she did dare ask it, he didn’t know if he’d voice the word out loud or merely shake his head. Because he didn’t bloody well know what the answer was.
When the ordeal of dinner was thankfully over, they walked out into the hallway, feet dragging, like mourners headed for the crypt. In a cavernous room where stairs led up to bedchambers, she stopped and faced him. Her lips parted—
“I don’t know yet,” he said quietly.
With a sigh that held both patience and understanding, she nodded. “I believe I shall retire. It’s been a long, taxing day, and we’ll depart early in the morning. Sleep well.”
He doubted he’d sleep at all, especially as now he was wandering through the manor like a wraith, a glass of excellent scotch in hand. Gillie would approve as it went down smoothly, filling him with a lethargic warmth.
