The Letter (13 page)

She was glad of the dark for it hid her tears. For these next few moments, she would be loved. Gentle hands would touch her skin. After he left her, she would have the memory of this night, and she would use it like a greedy girl to banish the terrors that visited her in the darkest hours.

“Make me forget, Michael.”

“I will, I promise.”

His hands slid under her bottom, raising her to meet his thrusts. She brought her knees up, her feet flat on the bed and matched his movements. She heard a low noise in his throat, the growling sound vibrating through her, urging her on.

Needing more, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please, kiss me.”

His mouth covered hers, his tongue scraping past her teeth, then out, then back, imitating the movements of the part of him inside her. If her time with him could last forever, she would never be afraid again.

His movements quickened and she felt the pressure building again, low in her belly, then further down. She met him, thrust for thrust. Her blood heated, her heart pounded, her release came with such force she couldn’t stop from crying out his name.

His body shuddered and he jerked out of her spilling his seed over the nightdress covering her stomach. She didn’t want to risk getting with child, truly, yet, an inexplicable sadness came with his care in preventing it.

A soft kiss to her lips and then he rolled over on his back, pulling her next to him. “Are you all right?” he asked, each word spoken between deep inhales.

Her head rested on his arm and she pressed her nose against his chest breathing in his clean scent. “Yes,” she murmured. His breathing slowed, returning to normal. His magic had worked. She forgot about bad dreams and punishments, falling into a deep sleep.

****

“Do you…do you regret this?” he asked

She didn’t answer. Michael listened to Diana’s even breathing. Reason returned, along with regret and shame. Sweet Jesus, what had he done? She had been distraught, needing comfort, reassurance that she was safe. Taking advantage of her distressed state was inexcusable, one more unforgivable thing he had done to her.

With slow movements, he eased his arm from under her head and slipped out of bed. Covering her, he stood and looked at her. Because of the low burning fire, he could see her better than she realized. Not as distinctly as he had wished when she shattered in his arms, but bright enough to see the ecstasy on her face when the pleasure took her. Then he had felt the tears on her cheeks with his fingers.

Almost, he had stopped then, but she asked him to make her forget. He knew what she wanted. Knew she needed to replace memories of her years with Leo. He was probably as good a one to do that for her as the next man, her future husband, perhaps.

He strode back to his room. Going to the mantel, he picked up the clock and held it down to the firelight. Three. He put the clock back, looked at his bed, knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, knew he could not spend another day at this place. There was no getting around it, he had wronged her. He could not face her in the morning, could not look into those sad brown eyes and acknowledge that he had hurt her again.

****

“Wake up.” Michael shook his valet’s shoulder and was almost rewarded with a punch on the nose. He jumped back. “The devil, man, what is wrong with you?”

One eye opened, it widened, the other opened. “Lord Daventry?”

“Yes, Hansen, it is I.” Michael didn’t hold his near broken nose against the man. It was an ungodly hour, after all.

Hansen sprang from bed. “What time is it, my lord?”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell cares about the time? Pack me up. I’m off to London.” He turned and walked out.

In Jamie’s room, Michael sat on a stool he had pulled near the bed. He held up his candle and stared into the sleeping boy’s face. Was Jamie his? Suppose he was. What then? For the boy’s sake, he couldn’t announce it to the world, as much as he might want to. He would not see his son labeled a bastard. Could he ever tell Jamie? If somehow he could prove the truth of it, he would want his son to know his true father.

More than once, he had been on the verge of asking the date of Jamie’s birthday. Each time, he had held back. What if the date proved the boy wasn’t his? He preferred to hold onto the possibility that Jamie belonged to him.

The weight of his questions, the answers he didn’t have, his new betrayal, all of it was too bloody much. If he couldn’t stand himself, how could he face her? He would run like a damned coward. He had done it before, was experienced at it. “History repeats itself,” he murmured.

Michael gently shook Jamie’s shoulder. “Jamie? Wake up, lad.”

“Michael?” Jamie sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Is it morning?”

“No, but I need to tell you something. I have to leave.”

“You do? Why?”

“I have to return to London because…” Because why?
Because I’m a rotten bastard.
“I have to return to Town to take care of some urgent business.” That sounded reasonable.

“Can Mama and I come with you?”

Michael set the candle on the table, using the action to look away from the hopeful eyes. His gaze slid back to Jamie. “I would like that very much, but not this time, I’m afraid.”

Jamie slumped against his pillow, disappointment obvious on his young face. “You are going to come back, aren’t you?”

Someday. “Yes, but I don’t know when. You and your mother will stay here. You are safe now, you know that, don’t you?”

Jamie nodded. “I know you won’t let anyone hurt us again. But you have to come back soon, you promised to teach me how to fight. What if a bad man comes while you are gone and I don’t know how to protect Mama?”

Christ. The boy knew just where to send his punch. “Listen. No bad man would dare come to Wyburne because he knows I would hunt him down if he hurt those I love.”

Scrambling to his knees, his eyes bright and happy, Jamie grabbed Michael’s hand. “Do you really love us?”

Michael swallowed hard. “Yes, Jamie, I love you.”

The child apparently wasn’t letting him off that easy. “And Mama, do you love her, too?”

Once he had. Heart, body, and soul.
“I love you both. If it will make you feel better, I will make it Roger’s duty to guard you and your Mama until I return. He’s a big, strapping lad and no one would dare challenge him.”

“I think you should, just so Mama won’t be afraid.” He threw himself onto Michael’s chest and wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

Michael almost agreed to stay. Almost.

****

Diana sensed she was being watched, but didn’t perceive any danger. She opened her eyes to find Jamie sitting on her bed, legs crossed under him, his gaze focused on her.

She yawned. “Jamie? What time is it?”

He looked over at the mantel of the fireplace. “It’s eleven on the clock.”

Good lord, she hadn’t slept this late since…well, since forever. It was also the best sleep she’d had in years. When she snuggled her face into the pillow, she smelled fine milled soap and bay.
Michael!
She sat up and looked around. Thank God he had left before Jamie arrived.

“Are you better, Mama?”

“I’m fine, why do you think I’m not?”

“You had one of your bad dreams. Michael and I took care of you together. He held you in his lap and we watched the fire until your dream went away.”

She hadn’t known that. How had she slept through being held by him? She gave Jamie a kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you, but thank you for taking care of me. Shouldn’t you be in the schoolroom?”

“Yes, but I told Mr. Denton I needed to tell you something. I like him, Mama. He showed me a book that has all the names of the stars in it.”

“That’s wonderful.” And, it was. She had taught him as much as she could, but there were so many things a boy should know, things her governess apparently hadn’t thought it necessary to teach her. Just one more thing she had worried about and something more to thank Michael for. Her debts were piling up.

As much as she enjoyed her son’s company, she wanted to be alone to think about last night. She also needed to prepare herself to face Michael. Did he regret coming to her bed? Did he think poorly of her now? Would they talk about it, or pretend it never happened?

“I imagine Mr. Denton is waiting for you.”

Because she was an experienced eye-watcher, she caught the change in Jamie’s. Something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Michael left.”

“What?” His little body jerked at her shout. She took his hand to reassure him and forced herself to speak in a normal tone. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that you surprised me. Do you know where he went?”

“To London. He said he had to take care of something and didn’t know when he would be back.”

Tears shimmered in her son’s eyes. One of her worries was coming true. She had allowed him to get too close to Michael. She couldn’t bear to see Jamie hurt, would never forgive Michael if he broke Jamie’s heart. “I’m sure he will return soon. Did you talk to him before he left?”

He nodded. “He came to my room and woke me up because he didn’t want to leave without telling me first. He told Roger to guard us so no bad man can come here and hurt us. Michael said if one did, he would hunt him down.”

Did he really need to go to London, or did he leave because of last night? Why didn’t he wake her like he had Jamie? How could he hold her in his arms, love her the way he had, and then just up and leave? What was she supposed to think?

Tears burned her eyes, but she steeled herself against them. What a sad pair they were, both on the verge of crying because of a man who had barreled his way into their life. “I think you better go now, Jamie. Mr. Denton will think you don’t want to learn your lessons.”

He jumped off the bed. “All right.” At the door, he stopped and turned. “Mama, Michael said he loves us. You and me.”

“You’re a special boy, how could he not love you?”
And you’re his son
.

A smile lit his face. “He’ll come back soon, I just know it.”

There was a scratch on the door and he opened it. “She’s awake now,” he said to Fanny on his way out.

Fanny entered with a tray in her hands. “Good morn, my lady. Before he left, the master said to let you sleep. I’ve brought some warm chocolate and toast. I wasn’t sure you would want more so close to luncheon.”

Had Michael talked to everyone but her? “This is perfect, Fanny. As for luncheon, I think I will just have another tray sent up.”

“Yes, my lady.” She set the tray on the bedside table, handing Diana the cup.

She still marveled that chocolate was being delivered to her each morning. She closed her eyes, savoring the rich taste of it.

“Do you have a preference of gowns, my lady?”

Diana appreciated having a lady’s maid again, but it was also a problem. One she wasn’t sure how to solve. “I think I’ll wait awhile to dress. Please return in an hour.”

After Fanny left, she reached to pick up a slice of toast and saw a folded paper half hidden by the plate. She opened it to find a short note from Michael.

Diana,

I have been called to London. Nothing serious, only some business I must see to. I’m not sure how long it will take. Mrs. Bartlett and the others will see to all your needs until I return.

Michael

I’m sorry.

She stared at the last line. There could only be one thing he was sorry for. She crumpled the sheet in her fist. Last night had meant so much to her. He had held her in his arms, loved her body with his and made her feel wanted. For a short time, he had banished her fears. And he was sorry for it!

Her chocolate forgotten, she got out of bed and threw the wad of paper into the fire. She had been so starved for affection, for a gentle touch, that she had begged him to stay with her. All she had wanted was to feel alive, even if for only one night. That, and a wonderful memory to hold on to when the bad ones came.

Was he afraid she would demand he marry her? He didn’t have to leave so suddenly, she knew it in her heart. “Stupid fool.” She didn’t know if she meant him, or her. No, she did know. They were both fools. Her for thinking he understood, him for not.

Even your precious Michael won’t have you now.
Leo’s words dripped their poison into her mind. Was that it? Had Michael been repulsed by her? But he hadn’t seen. She had made sure of it.

She went to the door and locked it and then walked to the vanity. Staring into the mirror, she unbuttoned her nightdress.

She took a deep breath, pushed it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Looking at her naked body was something she could rarely bring herself to do, but now, she forced her eyes to look at each scar marring her skin.

What would Michael think if he ever saw her unclothed? Leo had repeatedly declared she was disgusting to look upon. He hadn’t seemed to see the absurdity of his accusation. After all, it had been his creative hands that made her too repulsive to ever be seen by another. She turned away from the mirror and the image of her ravaged body.

When her maid returned, Diana was dressed, only needing the back of her gown done up.

“My lady, you should have rung for me to help you.”

“I’m not helpless, Fanny.”

“I’m sorry, my lady. Have I offended in some way?”

Diana hadn’t meant her words to sound so harsh, but she didn’t know how to explain. “No, of course not.” She turned her back. “Would you button me, please?”

Not knowing what to do with her day, she explored the hunting lodge. It was more of a manor house and as she wandered down the hall, she stopped and looked in the door of Michael’s study. The furnishings were in rich jewel tones, his desk and the tables a dark wood. The deep burgundy of the drapes contrasted beautifully with the forest green and gold prints of the sofa set against the wall and the cushioned high back chairs set in front of the fireplace.

She visualized him sitting in one of the chairs, his stockinged feet resting on the stool, his ankles crossed and toasty warm from the fire. A book would lay open on his lap, and a glass of brandy would dangle from his long, elegant fingers. What was he thinking as he stared unseeingly into the flames?