My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) (14 page)

Eventually pulling apart and capturing her hands in his the duke gave a low chuckle, “I see you have missed me as much as I have you, my love.”

“That is unkind of you, sir,” she replied dropping her eyes before his fiery scrutiny, thankful that the shadows hid the warm glow his embrace brought to her cheeks. “But oh, how I have longed for you, my dear friend.”

He smiled mischievously, once more drawing her to him, the better to study her features. “So, you will still insist on calling me your dear friend, sweetheart. I had hoped for something more.”

“
You will always be my dearest friend,” she replied meeting his gaze openly. “Whatever else you may become, you will still be my friend.”

“Tell me then, my little friend, do friends marry?”

“Of course they do,” she replied without hesitation. “Who else would tend me when I am nauseous and become a burden?”

He laughed, his green eyes dancing with delight, his face transformed.
“If that is to be my role in life, then I must bear it with what fortitude I can muster, imp.” Then sobering slightly, “Does it matter to you that we have known each other so short a time, for to me it seems an eternity?”

“
Not a whit,” she replied cradling his hand against her cheek. “For me the seed was set when you so obstinately refused to desert me to my fates on The Mistral. It showed an unparalleled fortitude and a kindness I will never forget.”

“I wish you would, my dear,” he said, attempting to hide his smile, “for I can see you regaling our grandchildren with it in years to come and it will do nothing to enhance the superior image that I would cultivate.”

“I assure you your image is quite safe, sir, for will I not tell them what a true and faithful friend you are and how I have come to love you?”

He would have taken her in his arms once more but the sound of a door opening at the further end of the corridor drove them guiltily apart and instead, he clasped her fingers securely in his and led her to the stairs.

“In my eagerness I have become remiss in my duties,” he said. “You are no doubt impatient to know the results of my journey and to see the babe, and you must tell me of Harry and what is to be done. We have so much to arrange. I must warn you, however, that we are increased in numbers. When we set out on the journey we were two, anticipated four, and now we become six. We will present quite a cavalcade on our return.”

She smiled, returning the pressure of his fingers.
“I care not however many we become as long as I have my dear friend, for without him I am disconsolate.”

This did not go unrewarded and having achieved the first landing, he found it necessary to quickly catch her to him.

“My love, I can see you will be an enchanting wife,” he chuckled before briefly kissing her upturned face. “It is well that we need not be separated again, forswear I could not bear it. Now come and meet our babe. She is named Sophie and is a delight. You will love her, I’m sure.”

***

Jane did indeed love this golden child, this child so full of sunshine, and over the next few days divided her time between getting to know her and tending to Harry. The repaired coach arrived bringing the much-needed boxes and for the next two weeks, they settled into a routine, which, although leaving little time for intimacy, drew the lovers even closer together. The duke showed himself ever ready to be involved in Harry’s care whenever necessary, feeling it not as a burden. Hannah soon became an invaluable and capable addition to the party, proving herself a quite able nursemaid and one who doted on her charge.

As the days passed, Robert found it increasingly difficult to distance himself from Jane when they shared only too brief moments of privacy. She delighted him with her response to his caresses, which only served to inflame his desire for her, and a chance meeting at the end of the second week almost proved his undoing.

Harry had passed a restless day, one in which he complained continually of his discomfiture and it was seen that Jane was sorely worn. She had retired to her chamber some time earlier when the duke bethought himself to check on Harry before he too sought his rest.

So late was the hour that the inn appeared deserted when he climbed to the second landing and he trod quietly so as not to disturb its sleeping occupants.

He was about to enter the invalid’s room when the door opened and Jane, clad only in a satin wrap, emerged and came into the shadows of the landing. She gave a visible start at finding Robert on the point of entry but raising her finger to her lips, pushed him back into the corridor.

“He sleeps at last,” she whispered when the door had fully closed behind her. “Eaves could not settle him and came to me.”

Robert placed his arm about her waist. “Poor girl,” he sympathized, dropping a kiss on her brow. “You should have called for me. You have borne enough this day.”

She raised her hands and pulled his head down, lightly brushing her lips against his. “You don’t know how grateful I am for your strength and support,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I would cope without you,” and she nestled against him, her curls caressing his cheek and chin.

Holding her to him Robert made the heady discovery that beneath her silk wrap, she wore naught but a lawn nightgown and his senses reeled. Without thinking, he raised his hands and with a few deft movements released her luxuriant tresses from the pins that held them so decorously, and they fell to her waist. With a growl deep within his chest he buried his hands in their depths and bringing his head down possessed her lips with a hungry passion that demanded her response.

Arching her body against his, Jane wound her arms about his neck as if wishing to draw him even closer, knowing only that he awoke desires in her that she could not comprehend, generating a need for him. His hands traced the contours of her waist and hips, pulling her further into him whilst his lips roamed freely over her face and neck, the darkness of the landing only adding to the intimacy of the moment, both lost in their desires.

Only when the realization came to him that he was in imminent danger of forgetting all caution and gathering her up into his arms to seek his bedchamber did Robert, with a groan akin to a sob, finally tear his lips from her soft skin. She gave a small cry of protest, appearing bewildered as if she awoke from a dream, bereft at his desertion.

His breathing appeared labored as he sought to contain his passion. “You must leave me sweetheart,” he said hoarsely, gently putting her from him. “You drive me beyond endurance and I cannot guarantee my control. Come, I will take you to your door then I must go. Knowing the temptation, I love you too well to remain.”

Jane gave no answer; she could not, her emotions at that moment betraying her. Instead, taking his hand briefly to her cheek in understanding, she allowed him to lead her to her chamber.

When she disappeared inside her room, closing the door quietly behind her, he leant his brow against the cooling plaster of the wall, balling his hands into fists. Silently calling curses down on his own head knowing he had been but a breath away from seducing his beloved Jane.

The consequences of the encounter drove the duke to desert the inn some two days later when he received news that the British Ambassador would be passing close to Elvas. Telling no one the nature of his business, he left shortly after taking a hasty breakfast, to return some ten hours later.

When Jane attempted to question him on his absence, he brushed the matter aside demanding instead to know of her day, feeling the time was not right to divulge his secret to her. He dared not, lest his plans should not come to fruition; he needed yet another element for their completion. Guilt of his apparent deception drove him to make light of the outing, teasing her back to good humor when she appeared wounded by his reluctance to explain his absence.

***

Toward the end of the third week,
Proctor made a surprise request of an interview with the duke and was issued into his presence as he sat alone over breakfast.

“
Is there a problem?” Robert asked, draining his coffee cup and dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

Proctor
stood before him nervously turning his hat in his hands and studying the floor.  “Not so much of a problem as a request, your grace,” he said.

“
Well out with it man, there’s no need for reticence,” the duke replied. He pushed his chair slightly away from the table and leaning back, arms folded, waited for his henchman to begin.

“You know of how I came to be in Portugal, sir?”

“I am aware of the situation and the reason for you not being with your regiment. Is it in some way connected to your request?”

“
I was wondering, or rather I was hoping, sir...” There followed a silence, as if Proctor searched for words.

“Yes…?” Robert prompted.

Proctor took a breath and raising his head continued hastily, “Whether you would consider taking me into your employ, sir, and allow me to return to England with you. I am sure I can be of use on your estates, and can assure you of my loyalty. I was a groom before joining the ranks and was first into Badajos with the Forlorn Hope, but I would gladly turn my hand to anything.”

The duke viewed
Proctor through narrowed lids. “You realize the dangers should your act of desertion become known? Even I would be hard pressed to protect you in such a situation.”

“I will face whatever consequences arise, sir, but I have a longing to be back on English soil and if the risk of discovery is the price I must pay, then, so be it. You have treated me most fairly, your grace, and my wish, if you will allow, is to serve you.”

“Our numbers swell,” muttered the duke beneath his breath, then to Proctor, “I judge a man on how I see him and you have served us well thus far. There will be a place for you at Stovely, if you have a mind to it.”

As
Proctor would have voiced his thanks, the duke raised his hand. “I have however, an immediate charge for you. One that you must carry out with the strictest confidence. I want you to enquire in Elvas, and if necessary the surrounding areas, if there is an English divine to be found and report your findings to me as soon as possible. I have need of his services.”

“
At once your grace,” replied a now beaming Proctor. “If there is one to be found you can be sure I will know of it.” Turning on his heel, he was gone.

***

The day seemed to pass interminably to the duke as he awaited Proctor’s return. To Jane he seemed distracted and she wondered at his unfamiliar mood. It was just before supper, when they were sitting with Harry, that a maid from the taproom arrived to apprise him of Proctor’s arrival and immediately he hastened to the parlor.

“What news?” he demanded as he strode purposefully into the room.

“We are in luck, sir,” Proctor said, his face wreathed in smiles. “I have secured the direction of an English divine. He is at present accompanying a young nobleman on a visit to his maternal grandparents who live on the outskirts of the town.”

“Excellent,” Robert replied. “I will write a missive, which you will deliver immediately. Be sure to await a reply and return it to me. It is of the utmost importance and I care not what the hour, I shall not retire until your arrival.”

A short while later Proctor left the inn with the letter secured inside his jacket. He promised to be as swift as possible about his task, leaving the duke to sit pensively in the parlor awaiting his betrothed’s presence at supper.

For once in his life, he knew what it was to be apprehensive, unsure. Aware that just one word from Jane could lay waste to all his hopes. Since his interview with the British Ambassador, he had in his possession a paper that would enable him to further his plans, plans that he had spent several nights contemplating until he was firm in his resolve. Indeed, so deep was his reverie that even when she joined him for the evening meal he said but few words.

Once the meal was over, seeing his distraction and wondering at its cause, Jane asked in a hesitant voice, “Is anything amiss, Robert, you are so quiet and have been all this day?”

He rose to take his seat on the settle by the hearth and holding out his hand said, “Come, sweetheart, sit here beside me, I must speak to you.”

She did as she was bid, sitting slightly away from his side with her hands clasped before her, not daring to look at him. Of late she had become used to seeing only the tenderness of his gaze and the warmth of his smile, not the frown that now creased his brow and it thoroughly disconcerted her.

He examined her profile finding difficulty in uttering the words he wished to say, unsure of her reaction. This was a wholly new state of affairs for he had always been possessed of a confidence, which at this precise moment had deserted him, leaving in its wake uncertainty. He
exhaled deeply to himself, which had the effect of making her turn toward him wishful of knowing origin of the sigh, and seeing the anxiety in her eyes, he retrieved her hands from her lap to hold them tightly in both of his.

“Will you marry me?” he asked in a diffident voice she hardly knew.