The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) (24 page)

Elation marked with panic encapsulated her.
He must have somehow known because he leaned down and kissed her.
“’Twill be all right,” he murmured.

Fiona backed into her chamber and closed the
door. She had given Merry the night off so she wouldn’t bear
witness to Fiona’s request of Robert. The idea was ponderous enough
without having anyone see her make a fool of herself. However, in
forethought, the gown she chose to wear to dinner that evening was
easy to remove. Taking the remainder of her garments off, she
placed them in the armoire and slipped her cotton flannel over her
head. She then stoked the fire, climbed into bed and waited for
Robert.

The door that separated her room from the
sitting room opened and Robert stepped in. Wearing a long dressing
gown, his bare feet padded across the floor. He took off his robe
and Fiona gasped. He was naked underneath, save for a pair of
cotton drawers.

Climbing into bed, he looked into her eyes.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” she whispered and fought down her
rising apprehension.

“Then blow out the candle,” he said.

Fiona did as asked and waited.

“Come here, closer to me.”

Robert lay on the pillow, and she nestled
into his arms. Her head lay on his shoulder, his breath warm on her
cheek, her hand splayed across his chest. She never should have
stoked the fire as the heat Robert exuded was an inferno. His hand
caressed her hair away from her face. He leaned down and brushed
her lips with his.

“Good-night, Fiona.”

“Good-night, Robert.”

He continued to stroke her hair, but there
were no more kisses. She waited for what seemed an eternity for him
to move, to touch her in some other way, but he did not.
Eventually, the movement of his hand on her hair stopped and she
heard the sound of his breathing, even and heavy. He had fallen
asleep.

What had happened? How could he have fallen
asleep? She didn’t understand, yet didn’t want to wake him to ask.
He had an early start to the day tomorrow. Perhaps he hadn’t fully
comprehended what she’d asked of him. But that was absurd. Of
course he knew. Then why?

The annulment.

The realization of what his affections and
attentions meant during this last week slammed into her. They were
all for show. He needed her to perform for his dinner party. And
what a better way to act the part of doting wife than to have her
think he was a doting husband. Robert hated scandal and with her
last round quietly forgotten by the papers, he wanted the world to
think they’d finally gotten over their troubles and he’d allowed
Society to see them for the loving couple they appeared to be.
Lies, all lies.

She shifted and tried to move as far away
from him in the bed as possible. She managed to roll over and put
her back up against his body, but his arm slid around her waist and
held her fast. She heard his heavy sigh. Silent tears slipped down
her cheeks and she wondered how long it would take before she cried
herself to sleep.

*****

Robert lay in the darkness, Fiona settled
against him. He’d pretended sleep, hoping she would cease her
fidgeting. He could only imagine her body through the thin cotton
that separated them and couldn’t help his growing ardor. He prayed
she wouldn’t feel it.

When she had asked him to lay with her, he’d
almost refused. But then, she would have been given another rebuff
from him and with all he had accomplished this last week, he did
not want to lose her again.

Warm and smelling so sweet, he shifted
uncomfortably against her bottom. Good night! What had he been
thinking? He would never sleep now. It took every ounce of energy
to remain still and keep his hand from roaming her body. His
fingers were mere twitches away from her breasts and he wanted to
hold them, feel them, bring them to their peak. Kissing her at her
door these last nights had been physical torture for him. He could
feel her sexual fire being ignited. How he wanted to fan that
flame, and here was his chance, yet he feigned sleep.

Lady Olivia’s words haunted him. Fiona was
still a child in that way and he mustn’t do anything to scare or
hurt her. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what she’d asked of him.
Passion hid underneath her fiery façade, and he wanted to take his
time with her, show her she matched his appetite without
frightening her. The night of the humiliating eye debacle, before
he’d smashed her with his elbow, had shown him she would be his
equal in bed. He wanted to nurture her passion, let it grow so that
it consumed them both.

Fiona was a mystery, she was complex, and she
called to him from some depth of time long forgotten. He hadn’t
understood why he’d agreed to marry her that day. Yes, there was
honor, and pride, and the scandal, but underneath it was more than
that. Much more. It was as if something in her soul beckoned to him
with a song meant only for his ears. And soon they would make their
own melody.

He listened to the sounds she made, and
smiled when he realized she was snoring. He pulled her closer and
relaxed. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

Dawn arrived and Robert slipped out of bed
before Fiona awoke. Loathe to leave her, he wanted to wake her with
a kiss and perhaps a ….well, he would like to, but he could not.
That was not the way he wanted their first time together to be,
with a quick good-morning and then off he went. No, their first
time should be something special. A lingering of the bliss they
would share. Perhaps when he returned.

He went to his rooms and dressed, Brunswick
would be here any minute and Robert needed a cup of coffee before
the journey. He hated to wake Fiona to say good-bye, but knew she
would be upset if he didn’t. He’d wait until after his coffee.

Downstairs, Edwards had already shown
Brunswick into the breakfast room.

“’Tis a hellish morning, you know,” his
brother-in-law said when Robert entered the room. “I thought we
would have some fine weather to ride, but fog and rain have settled
in. Are you sure you do not wish to take the carriage?”

“My mother needs the carriage, John,” Robert
said. “I could not leave her without.”

“Are you not the Duke of Cantin? I’m sure you
have half a dozen in the mews.”

“Since when are you afraid of a little rain?
Are you not the man who once rode London to Glasgow through a
hurricane?”

“Deuce take it, Cantin, I do not wish to be
sitting on wet leather for four hours together. Let us take the
carriage and then we’ll send it back.”

“We shall ride, John. Now let me go upstairs
to say good-bye to Fiona. I shan’t be a minute.”

Upstairs in her room, Robert placed the
covers gently up to her neck, and then sat beside her.

“I’m going now, Fiona,” Robert said softly.
“I did not mean to wake you, but I thought I might say
good-bye.”

Fiona opened her eyes.

“Now, do try and be a good girl while I’m
gone,” he said lightly, brushing a curl away from her forehead. “I
do not wish to see your name in the gossip columns again.”

“Do not worry,” she whispered. “Your mother
will not allow me to be foolish.”

Was that a tear in her eye? How sweet. “No,
of course not.” He smiled and then leaned down and kissed her. “I
will try and return with all due haste.” He kissed her again. “Now
go back to sleep.” He kissed her again.

“Cantin!” Brunswick called to him from the
bottom of the stairs.

“I really must go.” He kissed her one last
time and left.

As they set off through the damp streets of
London, Robert was touched Fiona would be upset at his leaving.
When he came home, it would be time for a real night of
passion.

During the first week Robert was away, Fiona
had trouble concentrating. Conversations were one-sided, balls were
a bore and she departed early. She forgot Penny’s at-home
afternoon, and worst of all, made a disaster of the seating
arrangements for the party.

Lady Joanna laughed when she saw Fiona had
placed the Earl of Douchester next to the Duke of Lumbley.

“Dearest,” she’d said, “we must never place
Douchester next to Lumbley. They are both deaf as a dust bin and
shout at each other all night long.”

Fiona wanted to cry, she’d never get the
seating done correctly, even with Lady Joanna’s help. Studying the
arrangements from the household book had brought no easy fixes,
even when she found two or three of the same names. Precedence gave
her a headache. And though she wanted to place Penny and Amanda
beside her, she knew she could not. Haverlane was to her left, and
the Duke of Hemmings to her right.

“My lady,” Edwards said from the door to the
banquet room where Fiona had ensconced herself.

“Yes, Mr. Edwards.” Fiona looked up. Perhaps
he could help her with the seating.

“A package has come for you,” he said and
brought it to the table.

“A package?” She looked at the script and
didn’t recognize it. Cumbersome, she had trouble opening the
wrapping.

“Allow me,” Edwards said and produced a small
pocket knife, whereupon he cut the string.

Fiona removed the paper and found a medium
sized wooden case and two letters. The box looked very familiar,
but it couldn’t possibly be what she thought it was.

“Would you care for tea?” Edwards asked.

“Yes, Mr. Edwards, that would be lovely,
thank you. However, I do believe I shall move into the library, if
I may. I will only be in the way of the staff if I remain
here.”

Fiona gathered the case and letters and
settled on the chaise in front of the fireplace.

Slipping her finger under the wax of the
first letter, she found a note from a solicitor by the name of
Hamish Murray. They held the sum of five hundred pounds in reserve
for her as part of her dowry and would be delighted to meet with
her at her earliest convenience.

She opened the second letter and a small key
slipped out. Holding it, she read –

Fiona,

I have been recently ill, meeting the mighty
Arawn in my dreams more nights than I care to say, which has led me
to think deeply over the course of my years. With your mother’s
passing, I blamed you and should not have. ‘Twas an accident. I
hope you can forgive an old fool.

You were a true and devoted daughter when I
did not deserve it. I blamed you for all my unhappiness, and it was
unjustly placed. Your mother’s fondest wish had been for you to
marry the Cantin heir, and seizing on the opportunity, I forced you
into the marriage. I have heard tales you are not happy and have
taken it upon myself to give you the legacy, which your dear mother
wanted you to have. I hope they will bring you comfort. Forgive me,
Fiona. You were a good daughter.

His words brought tears to her eyes, and that
is how Edwards found her when he brought in the tea tray.

“Your ladyship, are you all right?”

“Yes, Mr. Edwards, perfectly well, thank you.
Just old memories, which caught me by surprise, ‘tis all.”

Overwhelmed, Fiona brushed away her tears and
slid the letter back into the envelope. She waited until Edwards
quit the room before she opened the case. Inside lay her mother’s
jewelry. Tears sprang to her eyes again. She ran her fingers
through the pearl choker, lovingly picked up the brooch of
cloisonné birds she had played with as a child, and tried on the
sapphire ring. There were bracelets and other rings in smaller
boxes in the bottom of the case. How could she ever thank her
father. This was such a thoughtful gesture, she couldn’t fathom how
he had decided to let go of any piece of her mother, especially to
her. Placing the gifts back in the velvet lined box, she caught a
whiff of her mother’s perfume. Oh, to have her mother with her for
just five minutes together. She would tell Fiona what to do about
Robert.

Three days later, Fiona met with Mr. Hamish
Murray, Esq. Her newfound title of the Duchess of Cantin brought a
solemnity to their discussions that Fiona didn’t think she would
have found being the Earl of Stewart’s daughter. Although, being
the Earl of Stewart’s daughter proved kinship with his clan and
brought an unspoken loyalty to the table.

While it was true Robert was entitled to her
dowry, as Fiona explained the circumstances surrounding her
marriage and the subsequent annulment, Mr. Murray became quite
vexed and assured her, duke or no, Cantin would not be receiving
any of her small fortune. There were ways around the law, and
Murray promised he knew them all.

Pleased with the outcome of the meeting,
Fiona felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She
no longer had to worry about what would happen to her when Robert
dissolved their marriage. She needn’t have to bother finding
another husband to take care of her. She would never trust another
man as long as she lived. Whatever game Robert played, she could
play just as well. Her father may have been a cruel and
contemptible man, but he had shown her how to be strong in the face
of adversity.

No matter how much she had come to depend
upon Robert, she could now take care of herself.

Riding back into London, Robert’s first
thoughts were of a bath and a decent meal. Throughout the days he
had been gone, Fiona’s presence in his mind was constant. He longed
to take her in his arms and hold her. He didn’t realize how much he
yearned for the sight of her until he spied Cantin House.

Edwards met him at the door. “Welcome home,
Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Edwards. It is very good to be
home. How do you do?” he asked as he handed his butler his gloves
and whip.

Edwards raised an eyebrow. “Very well, Your
Grace, thank you for asking.”