Secrets of an Accidental Duchess (39 page)

The man went white. “I didn’t know anything about any kidnapping, sir!”

Max eyed him dispassionately. “I daresay that’ll be for the courts to decide.”

He turned away and slowly, painfully knelt down beside Fenwicke and took his pulse. Looking up at Olivia, he shook his head. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I wish you didn’t have to see this.”

She bent down to help him back up, and she led him to one of the armchairs. He gratefully lowered himself into it.

“I’m glad I saw it.” She knelt down before him. She laid her cheek on his lap, and he ran his fingers over her hair. “I should, perhaps, feel horrible about that, but I don’t. I’m glad he’s dead, Max. It’s good for me to see it. It’s good for me to know that I’ll never have to be afraid of him again.”

S
pring had arrived. The forest was unfurling its color—every shade of green imaginable covered the trees and shrubs in baby leaves. A thick layer of velvety grass draped the ground, and the sun peeked out from behind puffy clouds.

A season for regrowth, rebirth, and renewal. For all of them.

Olivia turned from the window to face her family. Jonathan and Serena were sitting together, reading, with Serena’s head resting on Jonathan’s lap as he idly played with her hair. Phoebe and Sebastian were arguing good-naturedly over which song Phoebe should learn to play on the pianoforte next.

Jessica was on the floor playing pat-a-cake with Margie. And Beatrice was beside her, laughing and playing along. Beatrice was living with them indefinitely, and she was welcome to stay for as long as she liked. Olivia hoped she would stay for a very long time indeed. She was such
a kind girl and so innocent, even after all the horror she’d been through. And lately, they’d begun to witness her smiling and laughing again, and they’d all rejoiced in it.

And then there was Max. He had convalesced here at Stratford House from the gunshot wound in his side. He’d lost a good bit of blood and had been weak for a while, but the bullet had gone clean through him.

Olivia’s gaze wandered to where he sat near the fireplace. Meeting her eyes, he lowered his newspaper and crooked a finger at her in a silent
come here.

Smiling, she crossed the room until she stood beside him. He folded his newspaper and set it aside before rising. “Are you ready?”

“I am,” she returned.

They linked arms and said their good-byes. Everyone glanced up and wished them a nice walk, then went back to their pleasant activities. As they left the drawing room, Olivia gave a happy sigh.

“What is it?” Max asked.

“I just love seeing my family so content. And I’m happy that Beatrice is finally emerging from her shell and beginning to enjoy life again.”

“I am, too,” Max said gravely.

“I’m happy you’re here, too.”

They went to the kitchen where the housekeeper handed them the bundle they’d requested. By the time they emerged onto the lawn, they were both smiling. They walked past the crumbling tennis court in comfortable silence.

“I think it’s warm and dry enough for us to start playing again,” Max said.

Olivia bounced on her toes. “Oh, yes! Let’s play tomorrow if it doesn’t rain.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Max grinned at her delight with the plan. “Just be easy with me, all right?”

She laughed. “I’ll try.”

They turned from the exposed lawn into the shade of the forest. Olivia allowed Max to take the lead, and she smiled to herself when she realized he was heading toward the spring.

When they arrived, Max bent and placed the bundle from the housekeeper on the flat rock where he’d been crouching the very first time she’d encountered him here. He unrolled the blanket and laid it on the ground beside the rock. Then he helped her to get comfortable on the blanket, and she leaned her back against a tree trunk, looking at the spring.

“Oh, look, Max,” she breathed. “The geese are back.”

Taking his seat beside her, the basket with their luncheon in it on his lap, he glanced at the pond. “So they are.”

A proud mother goose swam by, followed by seven of the tiniest goslings.

“Oh,” Olivia murmured, “they must be newly hatched. Aren’t they precious?”

She felt Max’s eyes on her rather than the geese, and she glanced at him to see him giving her a soft smile.

“Would you like to eat? Mrs. Timberfield packed some bread and cheese. And a bottle of wine.”

“All right,” she said.

Max laid the bowl of cubed pieces of bread and cheese between them, and he poured wine into the small glasses the housekeeper had provided for them. Olivia sipped at the wine and popped bits of bread and cheese in her mouth.

She leaned back against the tree trunk, listening to the
drone of the spring insects and feeling more contented than she ever had.

“Olivia?”

“Hm?”

“How do you see the future?” he asked her.

Gazing at the pond, she smiled. “I see it here. In England. With my family. All of us finally happy.”

Suddenly, she felt unsure. She would have included Max in that idealistic picture, but did she dare? She couldn’t make any assumptions as to what his plans were. All she knew was that he’d long since given up on withdrawing when they made love… and that she risked pregnancy every time they came together.

But the thought of bearing Max’s child—even out of wedlock—didn’t seem as appalling as it once had. If it turned out that she could bear children, she’d love to raise Max’s son or daughter. Having his baby wouldn’t change who she was. It wouldn’t affect her family’s love for her.

She slid a glance at him to see him gazing soberly at her. “What about me?” he asked softly. “Do you ever think of me when you think of the future?”

She moved the bowl away from between them and scooted closer to him, wrapping her arm around his chest and leaning up to kiss his jaw. She returned his question with one of her own. “Do you think of me, Max?”

He captured her chin in his palm and tilted her face up to meet his lips.

His kiss wasn’t gentle. It was powerful, possessive, and it thrummed with an energy that seemed to resonate through his body and over her before diving into her heart.

The kiss deepened until it wasn’t a kiss anymore. She
dimly realized that her breast was exposed, that his hand caressed it, the blunt tips of his fingers running over her nipple, sending bursts of pleasure through her, down to reside between her legs.

She squirmed to release some of the pressure building there, and she felt the length of him, solid as steel against her thigh. He tugged her down until he was over her, and she was flat on her back staring up into those intense green eyes.

He jerked his gaze away from her and moved down her body until his lips closed over her nipple, and she gasped at the sensation.

“Oh, Max. I want you.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

He looked up at her, his lips glistening from their kisses, his eyes intent, focused on her face. Serious.

“When?” he asked her.

“Now,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and drew him close.

He kissed her again, but pulled away within moments to look at her again. “Just now?”

“No,” she whispered. “No. I want you now…”

He clutched her skirt and drew it up over her legs.

“And tomorrow…” she continued.

His fingers dragged over the sensitized skin of her calf.

“And forever,” she admitted. She closed her eyes tight and waited. She’d just revealed her deepest desire to him. She had opened herself completely to him, giving him the power to laugh at her, to tell her that he hadn’t changed his mind about marriage, or that she was too sickly to qualify to be the duchess who would always stand at his side.

A part of her hoped he’d enter her and they’d both ignore what she’d just said. That they could continue living in the present, so she wouldn’t have to think and worry about the future.

“Open your eyes, Olivia.” His voice rasped with desire. His questing fingers found the slit in her drawers, and she arched up as he stroked the sensitive flesh between her legs.

She couldn’t deny him. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her intently, his gaze seeming to bore through her and straight into her soul.

“I love you,” he murmured. His sex nudged her entrance. “I’m going to love you forever.”

He pushed in, seating himself deep inside her. She gasped at the invasion, but at the same time, her body arched up and opened for him, as if welcoming him home.

He held himself there. Staring into her face, he said, “There is no other woman for me.”

His words were fuel to her furnace, and as he moved, his body gliding, so large and velvety smooth deep within her, he stoked the flames, and she burned, outside and in. She came quickly and violently as fire whipped through her body, leaving her undulating under him, breathless and then crying out his name as the rapturous pleasure spread through her.

He followed shortly afterward, thrusting forcefully inside her, so deep and so hard that she could only hold him and take whatever he gave her. But there was only pleasure, powerful pleasure that only months ago she wouldn’t have believed a human capable of.

And then he thrust deep, and his body went rigid then released with a shudder, and she felt him pulse inside her
in that vulnerable moment of a man completely losing himself in a woman’s arms.
Her
arms.

He slumped to the side of her, pulling her against him. There were clothes tangled everywhere, but she didn’t care. She snuggled against him and sighed, utterly content.

She was the only woman for him. The only woman he loved.

A few moments later, he shifted, and she felt him adjusting her bodice back over her breasts and her skirts down to cover her ankles. He pulled up his own trousers and adjusted his shirt and stock.

“I fear we’re hopelessly rumpled,” she murmured, not caring in the least.

He grinned. “Well, I’d rather not face Stratford with pistols at dawn.”

“Oh, it won’t come to that,” Olivia said. “My sister would never allow it.”

He chuckled, then his face turned serious. “I brought you something.”

“Did you?”

He turned and rifled through the basket that had contained the food. She watched him, curious, as he removed a tiny box.

“What is it?” she asked.

He opened the box and tilted it toward her so she could see the contents. A diamond ring lay on a bed of scarlet velvet. It was a single diamond, round cut, and larger than any Olivia had ever seen.

“It’s a ring,” she said unnecessarily.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

She reached out to touch the glittering stone. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It was my mother’s. I want you to have it, Olivia.”

She blinked hard, looking from the ring to his eyes.

“And I want you to be mine. Legally.”

“Legally,” she repeated. She was suddenly incapable of intelligent speech.

“Yes. I want to marry you.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Are… are you sure?”

He groaned. “How can you ask that? How can you question my certainty?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He laid the ring box down on the blanket and cupped her face in his hands so she looked at him as he spoke. “Listen to me. I need you, Olivia. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, inside and out. You’re brave, strong, intelligent, and wise. I love you. I want you, and I need you. I want to spend my life at your side. I want to have you in my bed every night, and I want to wake up every morning with you beside me.”

She flinched. “Max, I don’t know if I can bear children—”

“I never planned to marry, so I never planned on having children. My cousin will inherit the dukedom. My desire to marry you has nothing to do with potential heirs. I want to marry you because I love you more than anything in this world. I want to marry you because I can’t imagine my life without you.” He stared into her eyes, so solemn, so intent. “I want you to be my duchess, Olivia. Please… say you will.”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Yes, Max,” she whispered, “I’ll be yours. Always.”

His breath released in a sigh, and he bent down and kissed her tenderly, his lips moving softly, gently against
hers in a caress so sweet it was like a warm wash of honey over her body and through her soul.

Pulling away, he reached for the box with the ring in it. He removed the ring and slid it over her finger. He smiled down at it, then looked up at her. “We’re…” He took another breath, and his smile widened to a grin. “We’re engaged.”

Biting her lower lip, she nodded. For the first time in her life, she truly believed that her infirmity didn’t preclude her from being worthy of being a wife. Of being a
duchess.

Max jumped up, pulling her up with him. Lifting her by the waist, he spun her around until she was giddy with laughter. “We’re engaged!”

She threw her arms around him. “Yes, we are. And there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier right now.”

“Speaking of the world,” he murmured into her ear, “I want to share the news with it.”

“Hm, well, you’re more than welcome to shout it to the treetops, though I’m not sure the geese and birds would really care.”

“But your family will.” He stepped back, suddenly looking nervous. Vulnerable. “What will they say? I know the earl and countess were expecting you to live with them—”

“They’ll be elated for us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Because they’ll see how happy we are, and they’ll know it’s the right thing for us both.”

His broad smile returned. “Shall we tell them right away?”

“Do you want to? They’re probably all still in the drawing room. We could tell them all together.”

“Good, then let’s inform your family, and then let’s inform the world. I’ll put a notice in the papers as soon as I can.”

She agreed, and they hurriedly gathered the leftover food and folded the blanket. As they left the geese, Olivia waved goodbye to the mother goose and her seven babies, who’d witnessed a very private moment between her and her betrothed.