Heartless (16 page)

Leandra smiled. Was that what had him suddenly perturbed? “Yes, I think I must, your grace.” Her smile disappeared. “Considering how you feel about me, I have not the right to address you with less formality and certainly not without the propriety our respective ranks require.”

The duke slumped back in the chair next to his wife. “Are you going to resurrect that every time we speak now?” he asked, annoyed and disturbed by his own feelings of guilt.

“No, your grace, only until I find a situation for myself,” she told him in a flash decision. “Then we shall cease to speak altogether.”

The duke became as still as one of the statues that stood sentinel in every garden at the Crescent. “What?” His voice had that dangerous silkiness to it and Leandra shivered despite herself.

“I see no reason for us to reside together as a married couple if we do not even like each other, your grace. It would be best if I were to live somewhere else and find work of some sort.”

“And how long have you been planning this, Lady Derringer?”

“Since early this afternoon.”

“What of the plans for the Dower house?”

“What of them?”

“Is that where you are planning to reside?”

“No, your grace. Where I reside will not be found anywhere on your estate.”

Derringer stared at her for a long moment. If she left and Grimsby found out about it, he’d take the money away. Worse, the duke thought morosely, he’d miss her.

“You’re not leaving,” he snapped.

“But don’t you see?” Leandra begged. “If I were to stay here, it would become nearly impossible for us to dissolve this mockery of a marriage. Since we have not c-consummated the marriage, an annulment is still possible.”

Derringer laughed. “An annulment is not as easy to acquire as you may think. A divorce would be easier.”

“Then we shall divorce. The scandal will die down eventually, allowing each of us to remarry.”

“You know nothing of the law, my dear girl. We could only remarry if the courts allowed, and even then only one of us can, the one who is not found guilty of adultery.”

Her brow furrowed. “We shall find a way. You should have your freedom, as you never wanted me in the first place. If admitting to adultery is what it will take, then I will do it.”

Derringer stood, rage burning through him at the thought of her admitting to such a thing. “This marriage will not be dissolved!” he roared at her. He leaned down over her chair, one hand braced on each side of her. “You have to stay with me.”

“Why?” she asked defiantly.

“Because you’re my wife, dammit! You need no other reason.”

He stepped back before he gave in to his urge to throttle her… or kiss her. Damn, but he wanted to kiss her.

“I’m afraid I do, your grace,” Leandra informed him, crossing her arms in stubborn imitation of her husband.

Derringer placed his hands on his hips and stared, truly amazed at her tenacity. “You would defy me in this?”

Leandra took in his rigid posture, his stubborn countenance, and the lurking emotion behind his eyes. She lifted her chin. “I would.”

Derringer stared at her in stunned disbelief for several seconds. Then he suddenly dropped down to his knees in front of her and took both her hands in his own. “You can’t go, Merri,” he said. “I lied when I said I didn’t like you. I do. Really. And it frightens me to death,” he admitted with a bit of her candor. “I don’t like people. I try not to but truthfully there are a few that somehow get around my defenses. It’s dangerous to get close to me.”

Leandra looked into pain-filled black eyes and knew in that moment that it would be very easy to fall in love with this man. He had a heart in spite of what everyone said. He was just afraid of being hurt.

Oh, how she could relate to such sentiments!

She gently disengaged one of her hands and cupped his cheek. “I forgive you for the comment, Hart,” she told him softly. “And I would like to stay and be your wife.”

The duke grinned at her. “Truly?”

She took a deep breath. She knew what he was asking. It wasn’t very hard to determine the way his eyes suddenly glinted. “Truly.”

Derringer kissed her gently, the merest touching of lips, and leaned back with a bemused expression on his face. But chagrin replaced bemusement when he remembered the other reason he had sought her out. Perhaps it should wait until after dinner. He had to tell her at least part of it now.

“There is another reason I had to talk to you, Merri.”

Leandra studied his face and felt her heart sink to her toes. “You are leaving again, aren’t you?”

“How did…?” Derringer shook his head slightly. “Yes, I am. I have to leave tonight, as a matter of fact.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. After dinner if you can arrange for it to be served an hour or so earlier. I will tell you the whole story before I set sail.”

“You are going to France again.”

“I am,” nodded the duke. “I will be back as soon as possible, I promise.”

“But…” her voice trailed off uncertainly and a blush climbed her cheeks. Raising her chin a notch, she persevered in her inquiry. “What about…?” her hand fluttered helplessly between them.

The duke regarded her blankly for a moment. Then, understanding dawned and he smiled genuinely.

Leaning forward until his forehead touched hers, he whispered, “As much as I long to make you my wife in truth, a hurried joining is not how I envisioned our first time together.”

He lifted his head and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her up from the chair as he rose to his feet. Holding her gently against him, the duke kissed her again, a little less reverently than before and with far more passion.

Leandra returned his embrace tenfold. All of her reservations were temporarily silenced so she held nothing back. And was pleased to hear her husband groan and tighten his arms around her.

Setting her firmly from him, he breathed, “A hurried coupling does not sound so bad right now.”

Leandra blushed at the coarseness of his words but couldn’t help agreeing with his assessment. She almost told him as much but decided she was not
that
bold yet.

He laughed lowly, touching one long finger to her pink cheek. “I can guess the course of your thoughts, my darling wife, but I have to decline such a winsome invitation.” He gazed down at her with more fondness than he had hitherto displayed toward her and Leandra felt her heart expand.

Daringly, she extended one small hand to lightly brush his black-clad chest. Not meeting his eyes—her boldness was not that… well, bold… yet—she murmured, “I am sure… something could be managed.”

His reply was a muffled snort. Leandra’s eyes shot up to his, shocked and questioning.

Derringer shook his head, trying very hard not to burst into outright laughter. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at him and he was sure he wasn’t quite succeeding.

He drew her back into his arms. “Ah, Merri, my girl, you have no idea what kind of… managing I require.”

It was her turn to snort. “I have a very good idea, Hart,” she returned dryly.

His black brows rose. “Indeed? A very good idea, you say? Meaning, you still have some doubts?” He grinned wickedly, positioning her in his arms just enough to let her know exactly what he required.

Her eyes widened and she surprised him by pressing closer, her lips parting in curiosity. Her hands moved around his back, fingers splayed.

Dear Lord, leaving her this time was not going to be easy, Derringer thought. He was tempted to consign Gabriel to the devil and instead take his wife… well, anywhere and everywhere that happened to be convenient.

He kissed her again, just a light brushing of the lips. Hugging her tight, he told her impudently, “Merri, were you anything but the innocent I know you are, I’d take you here and now without a thought for niceties.” He sighed in apparent frustration and firmly detached her from his person.

Leandra considered lying to him, telling him she wasn’t a stranger to what went on between a man and a woman but she had a feeling he’d see right through such claims. So she settled for her own frustrated sigh, not a little perplexed by the strange flutterings and yearnings the press of his body had caused in her own.

The duke chuckled, knowing her thoughts, transparent as she was. “As soon as I return, my love, I promise.” His gaze swept her flushed face. “And it will be worth the wait, Merri.”

Michaella and Martin joined them for dinner. Leandra had it served in the family dining room, which was a good deal smaller and had a much cozier feel to it with the colorful tapestries on the walls and the intricately carved sideboard that sported numerous dings and nicks of past generations. Dinner conversation was lively and informed with the duke heading most of the topics and Martin adding his opinion without reserve. Even shy Michaella was encouraged to say her piece.

Overall, Leandra was pleased with the way things were progressing. But she worried about what Derringer would tell her later. What was so important that he had to go back to France so soon after his return?

She swallowed her fears for the time being and smiled at the group gathered around the table. She was glad that Harwood had not accompanied his wife. But she was uneasy about his reasons for being in France. Perhaps he was just there to visit, she told herself hopefully.

Without his wife and children? Her gaze settled on her sister. Would Michaella know anything of their brother’s doings? Perhaps she would query her later.

Later? What later? Later she would be discussing with her husband his imminent plans for departure and then she would be going to bed. Alone. Again.

Had it really only been two days she had spent in his company? It seemed like forever although she still did not know the man behind the cynical black eyes and harsh features. Was she making the right decision to allow him to come to her bed? He wouldn’t, of course, until he returned from this latest jaunt to the continent. But when he returned, she would not know him any better than she did now.

She knew that her decision was not the wisest but she wasn’t going to change it, either. She had seen a side of Hartley St. Clair that made her want to uncover all his secrets and know the man he attempted to hide from the world.

Heartless. He had told her himself that he knew of the epithet and thought it appropriate. A friend of his had even called him that once. What had he done to make her think such a thing?

Leandra suddenly wanted to meet the woman. Derringer had said her name was… Amanda? Autumn? Aurora? Aurora, that was it. And she married Lord… Garwood? No, Greville. Lord Greville. They resided in Warwickshire. She would simply write to them and invite them for a visit. They may not even know of Derringer’s nuptials.