The Letter (27 page)

She clutched her dressing gown together. “It would not be proper.”

“Who’s to know? Come, there is something we need to discuss.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“No.”

She grumbled and ignoring his hand, walked past him and went to a chair before the fire.

He chuckled. “Are you mumbling about brick walls again?”

“It is my life’s desire to amuse you, my lord.”

“Still annoyed with me, are you?”

Annoyed was too mild a word for how she felt. “If you have something worth hearing, please say it now so I can retire. I’ve had a long day.”

He went to the side table and picked up two glasses of wine already poured. Taking a seat in the chair next to her, he handed her one. What was he up to?

“I would have talked to you earlier, but with your parents staying for dinner and then getting Jamie to bed after all the excitement, there was no opportunity.”

She took a sip of wine, closed her eyes and savored the flavor of berries. Though angry with him over the school issue, she did want to talk to him about the miracle that had occurred today.

“He loves the idea of having grandparents, but I feel sad for your mother having to pretend she is his aunt. I know it must hurt.”

“It does, but she understands why it has to be.” He tapped his glass against hers. “To family.” His gaze caught hers, and in his eyes was understanding of what this day had meant to her.

Family. She had one again. Tears burned her eyes and she turned her face away. A log shifted, sending sparks flying. A comfortable silence fell as they both stared into the fire. Was this how it would have been if they had married? Sitting all cozy in front of a blazing fire while talking of their day, the contented silences, the intimate looks?

With his foot, he pulled the stool closer and then propped up his feet with his ankles crossed. She had not noticed he wore no shoes, and couldn’t help staring at his feet. They were long, high-arched and elegant. She wondered how they would feel if she ran her fingers over them.

“I left room for you.”

She tucked her feet under her chair. “I couldn’t.”

With a lazy turn of his head, he gazed at her. “Why is that?”

If she put her feet on the stool, they would want to touch his. “It isn’t proper.”

He sighed. “You are very worried about being proper tonight. Unless someone is lurking behind the curtains, and I can almost promise you there is not, no one will see.”

It would do no good to refuse. He would persist until she did, so she put her feet up. His grin was wicked. A thrilling tremor traveled through her. Using his toes, he eased her slippers off. That should not have excited her.

“Look how dainty your feet are. You make mine look positively enormous.”

He rubbed the top of his foot under the bottom of hers, sending a tingling sensation up her leg. It would be best if she left right now, but she didn’t. There were so many thoughts of this day she wanted to share with him. She also liked the way he played with her feet.

“I asked my father why he didn’t respond to my letter. You were right, he never got it. I hope I get the chance someday to tell Mr. Bloodstone what I think of him.”

“If you wish, I will take you to his house and you can slap a glove in his face.”

It often amazed her how well he understood. “You can’t know how much I would love to do exactly that. Wouldn’t he be surprised to be called out by a female?”

“Did he ever touch you inappropriately? If he did, I will put an end to his sorry existence. He implied you were under his protection, but I took one look at him and knew he was a lying pig’s arse, knew you wouldn’t willingly have anything to do with him.”

“Do pigs lie?”

“That one does. Are you going to answer my question?”

She took a healthy swallow of wine. How had they veered onto this subject? She wanted to forget about Mr. Bloodstone and his clammy palms. “He would slide his fingers over my hand when he gave me the coins. I always wore gloves when I had to go to his house. He was starting to get more persistent, and truthfully, I feared the day would come when I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I didn’t know what to do about it because I had to see him to collect my money.”

His foot stilled. “I am going to kill him.”

“No, you are not.” Although it pleased her to know he would if she asked. “I won’t ever have to deal with him again and good riddance, I say.” She shifted toward him. “Thank you for going to see my father. You should have told me first, but perhaps it’s best you didn’t as I likely would have tried to stop you.”

“I knew you would which is why I didn’t tell you. Also, because I wasn’t sure how he would react. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and have you disappointed if I wasn’t successful.”

The firelight played across his face, one she was beginning to adore. Again. He was more beautiful than he had been when they first fell in love. She liked the little lines at the corners of his eyes. They added character to what would otherwise have been a too perfect face.

He moved his foot to her ankle and then over her leg. “What are you thinking when you look at me like that?”

That you are beautiful. That I wish Leo hadn’t carved me up like a side of beef. “I was comparing how you look now to when I first met you.”

“Were you? And what is the verdict? Am I aging well?”

“I will admit I like the way you look now better. There is more character to your face. You are no longer just a pretty boy.”

He grinned at that. “I’m glad I didn’t know you thought me a pretty boy. I would have grown a beard down to my chest and hair out my ears, pasted on bushy eyebrows and talked like this.” He deepened his voice. “I would have turned to pirating and pillaging and you no longer would have thought me a boy. You would have looked at me with dreamy eyes and sighed at how manly I was.”

She clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh, I am sure I would have swooned at the mere sight of you. Just the thought of the hair growing out of your ears makes me weak in the knees.”

“Here?” His toes caressed her knee.

“Yes, just there.” She should stop him. Would if he went any higher to where Leo had had too much fun with his knife. For the moment, however, she closed her eyes and let herself pretend she could still incite desire in a man. In Michael.

“Myana?”

“Hmm?” His whispered voice and the pet name seduced her as finely as the soft slide of his foot over her leg. If he asked her to come to bed with him, she would. One last time, one more memory to store in her heart.

“Marry me, Myana. Give us back the life we were meant to have.”

She jerked her foot away. “Don’t ask me that.”

“The asking was done eleven years ago, and you said yes. Now all that remains is to do the deed.”

“Do the deed? How romantic, but the answer is no.”

His gaze turned on her, hot and searing. “I will give you romance every day of our life together. I will be faithful to you until the end of our time together, and I will protect you with my last breath. Every day, I will show you how much I desire you. Hell, five times a day if that is what it takes to prove it.”

In all of that, love was not once mentioned. If he had, she might be tempted. Yet, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to say the words if she couldn’t return them. It would have been beyond her ability to feel anything a month ago, but she wasn’t so sure now. Her heart was healing, and much of the reason for it was him.

However, there was still the matter of being ruled by a man again, even Michael. He would make decisions for her when he thought he knew best. His refusal to consider her visit to the Blue Coat School had proven that. She fully planned to go with Fanny no matter what he thought of the idea. When he found out, how would he react?

“I would give my entire fortune to know what you are thinking.”

She tucked her feet under her, making sure her dressing gown covered her legs. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something. Was that it? If so, you have my answer, and I will return to my room.”

He rubbed his fingers across his forehead and then combed them through his air in a clear sign of irritation. “No, it is not. What I wanted to discuss was the Marcus-Holmes ball tomorrow night. It will be your reintroduction into the
ton
.”

“No. It is too soon. I’m not ready.”

“You can do it.” He stood and moved to the stool to sit in front of her. “Listen. I have it all arranged. You are going to make a grand entrance without making an entrance at all. You will not walk down the stairs and have to hear the room grow quiet, will not have to see them whispering behind their hands. Everyone will be staring at you, but not in the way you fear.”

“I have no notion what you mean.”

“Then let me explain.”

****

Saturday morning, the housekeeper asked to see her. Diana couldn’t imagine why.

“It is the menus, my lady. Lady Daventry always reviews them when she is here, but she has a small headache and wants to rest up for tonight’s ball. She said she was sure you wouldn’t mind doing it for her.”

“Of course, I will be happy to.” Diana hoped Lady Suzanne was feeling better by this evening. Michael’s plan depended on everyone being at the ball, including his mother. God, just thinking of his scheme had her quaking down to her toes. How he had convinced her to go along, she still didn’t understand. She must be the one who was mad.

“Now for the accounts,” Mrs. Randolph said when they finished the menus. She handed Diana the ledger.

“Are you certain Lady Daventry wants me to review these?”

“Oh, yes, my lady. She said so herself.”

Diana thought it a little strange this could not wait for Lady Suzanne to feel better, but she shrugged and opened the book. This was something she’d trained for all her young life, but had never been allowed to put her skills to use during her marriage. She asked the housekeeper a few questions, but everything seemed to be in good order. Closing the book, she glanced at the clock, surprised an hour had passed.

After Mrs. Randolph left, Diana sat back at the desk where they had been working. She had enjoyed that. Perhaps while she was here, Lady Suzanne wouldn’t mind a little help. The household ran as smoothly as a clock, but there were little things she had noticed that she would change if she had the right. Of course, she would never do so, but if she could ease Lady Suzanne’s burden a little it would give her something meaningful to do.

She surveyed the parlor Michael’s countess would someday use to meet with the housekeeper each morning, where she would likely write her letters, or perhaps just sit and read a book. This could have been hers, should have been. The gold and burgundy décor was nice enough, probably decorated to Lady Suzanne’s taste. It certainly had a French flair to it.

If it were hers, however, she would change it to colors that would remind her of spring and the start of new life. Blues, yellows, and greens would be lovely. The furniture would have to go. It was too heavy and ornate. She stood and went to the window to see what view would greet her each day. Oh, how wonderful. It looked out onto the back garden. There was not much to see as it was late fall, but she could imagine it in full bloom.

Her neck prickled. She turned to see Michael leaning against the doorway. “Good morn, my lord.” More and more, her heart misbehaved whenever he was near. She willed it to cease its silly racing, but it ignored her.

He pushed away from the door and walked a straight path to her. Without a word, he kissed her. This had to stop. She could not keep letting him take liberties whenever he wished. He trailed his hands slowly down her arms and entwined their fingers. Next time, she would stop him.

When he raised his head, she leaned toward him, wanting more.

He chuckled. “That was to thank you for stepping in for Mother this morning.”

A step back put space between them. “The words would have sufficed, there was no need for the kiss.”

“I assure you, there was a need. It is all I have thought of since arising from my bed. Poor Jamie. He only had a fraction of my attention during his riding lesson this morning. I think I should kiss you before the start of each day so I can concentrate on other things.”

“Poor you, it isn’t going to happen.”

“So you say. I look forward to the day I prove you wrong.” He wrapped her hand around his arm. “Allow me to escort you to luncheon. Our son is waiting for us.”

Our son
. He seemed to love saying it. How was she going to take Jamie away from him when the time came? It was going to be difficult, if not impossible, for Jamie to understand.

“Seriously, I do appreciate your dealing with Mrs. Randolph this morning. I wonder if you would continue to do so? It is not Mother’s favorite task. She would much prefer to be free to visit her friends and shop.”

Too often, it seemed he read her mind. She tried not to show her eagerness, giving him a shrug. “If you are sure it is what she wants. I would not want her to feel I’m trying to replace her.”

“Believe me, she would hand over the keys to you without hesitation while thanking you profusely.”

“All right, but understand it is only temporary.”

“Have you decided on your gown for tonight?”

He could ignore her by changing the subject, but the day would come when he learned she meant it. He had been clever, however. By reminding her of the ball, he had certainly diverted her attention. The temptation to find somewhere to hide until tomorrow was great. She had never swooned in her life, but tonight might be a first.

“I have.”

“And the color?”

“Why?”

“Always the suspicious one,
mon amour.
” His expression turned somber. “But then I suppose you have a right to be. I’m asking so I will know which jewels you will wear tonight.”

“You cannot give me jewelry. It isn’t prop—”

He pressed a finger over her lips. “I can if only you would let me, but be at ease. I’m loaning them to you for the evening. Stop shaking your head. You must make a statement tonight. You have to give them something else to talk about than past events. The entire evening is designed to do just that, and you must play your part.”