Keepsake (The Distinguished Rogues Book 5) (25 page)

He drew closer, concern clear in his gaze. He cupped her face gently, thumbs sliding over her cheeks in a delicate caress. “Is that the real reason you wanted escape to the terrace and refused to dance with me? You feared you were becoming ill. I thought perhaps it was something else I’d done that had displeased you.”

“Mostly that.” The reason she wouldn’t dance with Kit was because she would never compete with Emily for his time and attention, but he didn’t need to know how much that relationship still upset her. Everyone had whispered about their dance and how tragic their affection was as she’d strolled by on her own, abandoned again in favor of the one Kit truly loved. Why humiliate herself?

Confiding to Lord Applebee about Christopher was the last straw, causing unrelieved worry to return to prey on her mind. Pretending to be anything but content had been beyond her abilities in the end.

“Applebee has a similar weakness in his heart,” Kit murmured, although Miranda knew all about that lord’s many ailments. “He was always complaining about the need to be idle and regrets he could never marry because of it.”

Kit’s guardian had sent her the right doctors and a long list of instructions, insisting she take better care of herself. Avoidance of difficult situations, such as returning to her husband, was what she’d intended to do all along. She could have remained very calm indeed if Kit hadn’t planned to declare her dead.

Kit’s fingers lifted and skimmed her hair back from her face. “What can I do to make you comfortable?”

“Go to bed. I will be recovered by morning.”

His fingers twined with hers and tightened. “Come to my room and sleep beside me.”

She dipped her chin, knowing there really was no choice if she wished for a restful night’s sleep. Kit might not have noticed the absence of her mattress from her four-poster bed yet, but Miranda could see the gaping space left after its removal.

The dowager must want a grandson very badly to play this game of forcing her into his bed for yet another night. A pity she didn’t know the truth and could cease her machinations. In a way, Miranda wasn’t altogether surprised she’d meddle. The dowager marchioness was just as bad as her son when it came to getting her own way. After all, he had to have learned the knack from one of his parents.

She allowed Kit to lead her to his bed. He turned back the comforter and sheets, helped her from her gown. She stood naked before him while his eyes skimmed her body, but then he shook his head and found her nightgown. Once she was clothed in it, he bore her down to the mattress, then all but trapped her in his bedding, tucking the comforter so tightly around her that could not move an inch in the vast bed, as if she were a child.

When he joined her after turning down the lamps, he wasn’t quite on his side of the great bed when he faced her. When he tried to capture her hand and discovered she’d been cut off, he chuckled softly and loosened the bedding at last. He found her fingers and brought them to his lips for a soft kiss. “I needed to know this, Miranda.”

“I believed the ailment under better control until tonight. You made a very bad match in me.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I never said I regret our marriage.”

“But it is true just the same.”

He rose above her, eyes hard as stones as he looked into her face. The next instant he kissed her brow, her cheek, the tip of her nose. A sweet gesture that once she would have believed meant something far more caused her heart to ache for what might have been.

“Sleep now,” he ordered. “We’ll talk tomorrow and over the days to come about what the doctors have told you and what we must do. No more secrets from now on. All right?”

That would be difficult to agree to until she found her son, but she nodded anyway.

He leaned close, pressed one final kiss to her temple, and then collapsed on his pillow.

Miranda didn’t want to argue with him now when he was being so nice and she was beginning to feel better. When her heart raced, she feared each beat might be the last it made, so she said nothing and twined her fingers tightly with his, pretending for the night that she could be loved by him, though she doubted he would like her enough to worry for her health after Christopher came into his life.

“Miranda,” he whispered. “I’m to go riding in Hyde Park tomorrow morning with friends, and while I’d like nothing more than for you to join us, I don’t think that’s wise given what I know of your health now. I’ll do my best not to wake you. Promise me you’ll rest as long as you can.”

It would be so easy to believe he cared, but she did have to go out herself to look for Christopher. “I’ll try.”

He kissed her palm and let her go but remained close by her side as her eyes drifted shut. The sound of his steady breathing was the last thing she heard till morning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Mornings hadn’t always been Kit’s favorite time of day. In the past he’d woken to an empty bed, and a day empty save for the business of appearing busy. He’d much rather still be in bed with Miranda now, watching her sleep so peacefully as if their problems didn’t exist and her heartbeat was as strong as his. It had taken all of his resolve not to wake her this morning just to check she was feeling better. Worrying for her was nothing new, but now he had a specific ailment rather than the vague idea of losing her as the world swallowed her up.

A troubled heart did not bode well for their life together though. What he knew of the complaint was very little. He remembered Lord Applebee’s face, alternatively pale and red, depending on the state of his health. Keeping to a sedate life had seemed to ease his complaints.

A quiet life was easier lived in the country than in Town. Knowing what he did now, he wasn’t sure why Miranda hadn’t jumped at the chance to return to the quieter pace of Twilit Hill when first suggested. Perhaps he would never understand what drove her.

Miranda’s possible mortality was not an issue he wanted to face yet, although he’d always been afraid to discover she’d died somewhere. There was so much he’d wanted to share with her and now might find that chance taken away. Every day would have to count as if it were their last together. He would spoil her as no woman had been before. He drew back on the reins. “Time to go back, Acton,” he shouted to his companion as Acton’s gray mare pulled away and Kit’s chestnut slowed.

Acton hauled his mount around rather carelessly and trotted back to where Kit had slowed to a walking pace. “We’ve hardly begun.”

“I have some business to take care of.”

“Does your wife demand your undivided attention now?”

“Miranda was asleep when I left.”

Acton smirked. “So ride farther with me. She’ll be none the wiser.”

Kit shook his head as he turned his horse toward the park entrance and home. Acton didn’t understand what it meant to Kit to be married and able to see his wife at last. He wanted to be with her more than anything. Miranda would hardly care if he was late, he expected, but it mattered very much to him. “Continue without me and I will see you later.”

After a few yards, Acton’s horse drew level. His friend’s face wore a bitter expression. “I guess this is how it will be now she’s returned. Your friends will come a poor second the moment she so much as snaps her dainty fingers.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? I don’t think so.” Acton scowled. “I waited for you to join me in the card room last night, except I understand your wife demanded to go home early instead. Emily was especially upset and had to be jollied into any sort of good spirits.”

Kit sighed. “Miranda makes no demands of me in public. She never would. It’s me that is eager to see her.”

A low chuckle left Acton. “So the rumors are true then.”

“What rumors?”

Acton seemed to consider his words a moment. “By all accounts your wife is a demon in the bedchamber.”

Kit wrenched the reins of his horse, stopping him dead in the middle of the path and blocking Acton’s way. “Who the hell said that about my wife?”

Acton appeared startled and jerked on the reins so his horse stopped, dancing in place. His face paled. “Surely you’ve heard the worst by now.”

Kit gripped the reins tight, overcome by fury. “No one has ever mentioned seeing her before,” he growled.

“Well, they are saying it now. It’s not good.”

“Tell me.”

Acton considered it a long while, then shook his head. “Wives have affairs all the time and no one thinks twice about it. I’m on your side.”

Kit’s temper, barely in check, soared. “I want to know what they say about my wife.”

Acton rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. “Everyone is talking about her appetites. Gobbles a man up and makes him beg for more. You were better off without her.”

“I want a name for the source of that rumor.”

Acton’s face fell. “She really has blinded you, hasn’t she, even when you have Emily to distract you. It’s not one man talking about her, but many. I don’t think it’s in your best interest to know those names. They’ll just deny the rumor to you, and you’re bound to look a jealous fool.”

Acton moved off, shaking his head.

Kit kicked his mount forward. “Acton,” he growled.

Acton turned in his saddle, his expression distressed. “Yes, I think you were right to head back home and set your mind at ease. Keep close watch over her. Who knows what the lady could be up to with so much time on her hands?”

Acton kicked his horse into a trot and changed direction, leaving Kit free to head directly home. But he kept his mount still and swore. Damn it all, he would be jealous of anyone his wife so much as looked at twice. He’d already considered at length what he’d do to Louth should they be involved. He retained a niggling doubt about them, a suspicion that had burrowed deep in his mind and refused to be quieted despite reassurances.

It was just a rumor and not necessarily a fact. The same as the rumor about himself and Emily, which was certainly malicious speculation and should not be believed. Miranda could not engage in so many affairs if her heart was truly fragile. He did not believe she lied about the state of her health.

Suppressing his suspicions, though, took work, and he walked his horse through the park instead of galloping. He and Miranda were mending their relationship a bit at a time. He would not risk it by making an unsubstantiated accusation until he had proof she’d been unfaithful to him.

On his way through the park, he stumbled upon Lord Carrington with his large brood of adopted children about him. Seeing the family together in so happy a group made him wish his marriage was vastly different than what it was now—barely held together. He’d always wanted a large family instead of continuing the Taverham tradition of such a lonely childhood as he’d endured. Miranda had seemed interested in the same, although she didn’t want to talk about having offspring now.

Since he was overdue in paying the promised call to the Carringtons, he drew to a stop and swung down from the saddle. The chestnut was trained not to wander or start at sudden noises, so he let the reins dangle on the ground and walked to join them. He would invite them to visit Miranda today and maybe that would make her happy. “Carrington.”

The man glanced up from his conversation with the youngest child and smiled broadly. “Well met, my friend. How did Miranda enjoy the party last night?”

“Very well, although I’m not certain she was at ease in the crowd, and we left early to spare her the discomfort of greeting so many people.” He smiled ruefully. He’d probably caused her considerable distress. “I’m sorry we have not called on you yet.”

Carrington held up his hands. “I quite understand. I am sure there are many who wish to make her acquaintance again. Agatha would likely be cross if she hadn’t seen her for herself already, but she hoped to call on Miranda today if she will be at home. I think Agatha’s finally over the shock of having her cousin return.”

“I wish I were so lucky.”

Carrington tipped his head to the side to distance them from the children. “I take it the happy couple still has a way to go before they can be called such a thing?”

“Miranda is different.”

“How so?”

Kit removed his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. “The things I thought I knew about her seem entirely wrong. It’s as if she’s a complete stranger to me.”

“Marriage takes some adjustment. Give it time, or are you reconsidering a divorce? There are many in society who would understand she doesn’t suit anymore.”

Kit met Carrington’s gaze and the other man looked away quickly. Had he heard rumors of Miranda and her lovers too? “I dislike the idea of a divorce immensely. I won’t give up on her just because she’s become a greater challenge.”

Carrington nodded. “I’m glad to hear you have so strong a view. May we call on you then? Today. Agatha has it in her head to introduce all the children at once but perhaps that is too many if she has had a difficult night before. The youngest three have been remarkably well behaved of late. I’ll convince her those three will be enough to begin with and they can convey their thanks for the gifts she sent yesterday. The children have talked of nothing else.”

Kit glanced over at the children where they stood about his horse. He should have considered a similar thing, surprise gifts for the struggling family, but truthfully until he’d watched Miranda pick and choose gifts for them all, he wouldn’t have done well at all. She’d seemed to understand intuitively what was most likely wanted.