The Magic of Love Series

by Margaret Locke

  “I don’t see how ...” Amara finally whispered.

  “I don’t, either. But it is.”

  The door swished open and Becca and her mother entered the room.

  “Promise me,” Deveric whispered, his voice urgent, “that you won’t reveal this. To anyone.”

  “Your secrets are safe with me. Always.”

  Chapter 37

  “You’re awake! You’re awake!” Freddy’s excited squeals bounced around the chamber.

  Eliza winced from the noise, which reverberated in her skull like a thousand hammers. She smiled, however, when she saw Freddy next to the bed, holding Pirate in his arms. The puppy wiggled to get down, but the boy gripped him to his side. “Told you she’d wake up, Pirate.”

  “Hi, Frederick.”

  “Why have you been sleeping so much?” His lip jutted out in a pout. “I haven’t been able to visit the dogs much. I had to sneak Pirate in here today. Nurse Pritchett almost saw me!”

  Eliza laughed, even as it made her head pound. “I didn’t mean to be sleeping. How long has it been?”

  “A week,” came a deep voice from the entrance way as Deveric strode into the room.

  “A week?” Her eyes widened. “What?—”

  “You fell off that blasted horse. Hit your head.” His voice was gruff but tinged with worry, not anger.

  I fell off a horse? How very Jane Austen, to secure a gentleman’s attention through injury. For Deveric was definitely attentive; his eyes never left hers, the fierceness in them enough to weaken her already uneven pulse. She cringed as a stabbing pain pierced her head. Not exactly the smartest way to go about it, Austen heroines. This sucks.

  “Frederick,” he chastised, though his voice was gentle. “You should not be disturbing Mrs. James, much less have brought your dog into the house.”

  Frederick gulped at being caught by his father, but Eliza interjected. “It’s all right. I’m happy to see a friendly face. Or two friendly faces, rather.”

  “Nonetheless, outside you both go. Return the dog to the kennel, and see Nurse about a bath. You smell of ... stables.”

  Freddy flashed a sheepish grin. “Pirate ran through horse manure on the way here,” he admitted, before ducking out the door.

  Deveric remained a few feet from the bed. He wanted to throw himself at Eliza, to smother her with kisses and thank her for not leaving him, for not dying. She was still weak, however. Plus, truth be told, he wasn’t sure where he stood with her, or what he ought to do.

  “Dev.” Her eyes brimmed with emotion.

  “Eliza.”

  She swallowed. “I’m still here.”

  She’s still here? What does she mean? “Of course. I knew you would pull through.”

  “I mean, I’m still here. In 1812. With you.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Deveric sucked in a hard breath. What was she saying? That she didn’t want to be with him? That she had been trying to leave? He could feel the blood drain from his face.

  “I’m so glad,” she said in a soft voice. “So glad.” Her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep.

  Something shifted in Deveric’s heart. It cracked. It expanded. It flew wide open. Tears pricked his eyes as he watched her chest rise and fall. He’d come so close to losing her. So close.

  And yet, he didn’t know what to do. He loved her. He knew that now. He loved this American with her bewildering tales of the future, this American who obviously loved his son, and had helped breach the distance between them. This American, whose happy attitude soothed his dour disposition. Her warmth, her tenderness, her love for his family that she wasn’t able to hide; it was all he’d ever wanted. Yet so many things stood in their way. His mother. Society’s expectations. And his fears.

  How could he love her, how could he marry her, how could he ask her to be his wife, when he couldn’t be a full husband to her? He wouldn’t risk hurting her. He couldn’t go through that a second time.

  Yet the thoughts, the images, the possibilities cascaded endlessly through his head, crashing over him again and again like the tide beating at the shore.

  Deveric darted from the room, desperate for something, anything to take his mind off Eliza. How cruel was the Universe, to send him an angel he couldn’t have? He stalked down through the main entryway, ignoring the startled looks from Emmeline and Grace, who’d stood conversing there.

  Once outside, he ran for the stables, desperate for escape, for release. He saddled Lightning by himself, not waiting for a stable hand, and leapt on the horse’s back, kicking his heels into Lightning’s side, heaving a sigh of relief as the horse took off. He didn’t know where he was headed; he just knew he needed to go. He needed to clear his head. He needed to forget it all.

  Eliza blinked at the bright sunshine streaming in through the window. She looked around the room. She was alone. I must have fallen asleep again. Deveric was here, talking to me, wasn’t he? Freddy, too. Maybe she’d been hallucinating, but she swore Dev had been at the foot of the bed, looking at her with the tenderest expression she’d ever seen.

  She sighed. Things hadn’t turned out as planned. By now, she thought she’d be back in Charlottesville, back in 2012, back with Cat ... and William.

  You could try again. You never made it to the stones.

  “No!” Eliza burst out, chasing away those thoughts. She wouldn’t try again. She couldn’t. She’d known when she opened her eyes and saw Deveric there, his eyes shadowed and his cheeks hollow, worry oozing out of every pore, that she couldn’t leave him. There was something between them, something strong. Something she believed could be love.

  Not only that, but she loved Frederick. She loved this family. And they liked her. Except for Deveric’s mother. She ignored that voice in her head, shutting out the negative thoughts. She finally had the big circle she’d always wanted. How could she leave that?

  Sure, she missed Cat. She missed her best friend terribly. But Eliza hoped Cat had found the happy-ever-after she deserved. And if so, there wouldn’t be space for Eliza anymore, anyway. She was okay with that; she was where she belonged.

  She bit her lip. Was it enough? Was it enough that she’d fallen in love with the Duke of Claremont, with his son, with his family? One-sided love could never last. If he didn’t return her feelings, if he wasn’t interested in building a life with her, what would she do?

  She could stay on as Frederick’s governess if the dowager allowed it. But eventually, that wouldn’t be enough. She wouldn’t be able to stand on the sidelines day after day, wanting to be a part of this family, a part of Deveric, but never achieving it. It’d be like darts to the heart. That was why she’d run for the monolith.

  “Are you okay, my lady?” Betsy asked as she entered the room.

  Eliza smiled at Betsy’s use of Eliza’s expression. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. A bit thirsty, though.”

  Betsy poured her a cup of water from the pitcher on the table to the side of the bed then handed her the cup. After a few sips, Eliza asked, “Was Dev—I mean, His Grace—in here earlier? I could have sworn I was talking with him, but perhaps it was my imagination.”

  Betsy bobbed her head. “Yes, my lady. He hasn’t left your side, as a matter of fact. Lady Amara has had to force him to rest at times. He’s been nursing you himself, not allowing most of us near you.”

  Eliza’s heart raced at Betsy’s words. He had? Surely that was a sign that he loved her, wasn’t it? Why else would a duke sacrifice himself, when he had plenty of servants who could have tended to her?

  “I’m surprised he’s not here now,” Betsy added as she offered Eliza her tooth stick and baking soda. Eliza took them gratefully and rinsed out her mouth. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute. Is there anything else you need, my—Eliza?”

  “No, thank you, Betsy,” Eliza said, fatigue overtaking her again. “Just rest.”

  Deveric stood within the circle of stones. He’d often come here as boy, relishing the peaceful feeling it gave him, a peace h
e sought now.

  Who had put the stones here? What purpose had they served? Had others come here through the millennia to seek answers, as well?

  Why had Eliza wanted to come here? How had she even known about it, this sacred place? He made a face. There were so many things he didn’t know, didn’t understand.

  He sat down on a flat rock in the middle, watching as Lightning roamed around him, munching on grass.

  “What should I do?” he asked the horse. Lightning whinnied in response. “Should I marry her? Could I possibly build a life with her, a life better than I had with Mirabelle, a marriage better than either mine or my parents’? Could it work?”

  She certainly had responded to him in the few intimate moments they’d shared. Was it possible Em was right, Amara was right, and that it hadn’t been him, but Mirabelle? Could Eliza be different, be not only able to take but give as passionately as he? She was not the fragile flower his first wife had been; she was solid, strong, full of life. “Is it possible, Lightning?”

  At those words, a ray of sunshine rose over the eastern rock, striking him full in the face. The warmth soothed him, even as the brightness blinded him. His body flooded with unexpected energy as if illuminated from the inside out. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling run through him. Yes, the sun seemed to whisper. Yes. The simple word echoed through his head. It’s worth the risk. Yes.

  He sat a while longer, his body resonating with joy, his heart swelling with love, his mind convinced of what he needed. He needed Eliza.

  Springing up, he called to the horse. “Let’s go, boy. I have a question I need to ask her.”

  Chapter 38

  Deveric bounded through the front door, eagerness leading him to take the stairs two at a time. Several maids stared at him, but he ignored them, racing up to the landing and down the hallway toward Eliza’s chamber.

  He ran directly into his mother.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed as he reached his arms out to steady her.

  “Mother,” he said. “My apologies. I didn’t see you there. I was—”

  “—Rushing to see Mrs. James?”

  He grinned widely. “To see my future wife.”

  Her jaw dropped. “But—but she’s a commoner.”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s—American.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the Duke of Claremont.”

  “Yes.”

  Her shoulders sank. “Think of the family.”

  “I’m always thinking of the family,” he growled. “I thought of the family when I protected Amara from scandal. I thought of the family when I married Mirabelle, wanting to satisfy Father’s wishes, though he was already dead. I thought of the family when I covered for his peccadillos, when I ensured nobody knew he had died in his mistress’s bed, Mother. I think of the family all of the time, and yet grave things keep happening.” His eyes pierced hers. “Don’t I deserve a chance at something good?”

  His mother pinched her lips, looking away from him. “Of course,” she whispered, after several tense, silent moments.

  It was all Deveric could do to keep his mouth from falling open. He’d expected protest, not affirmation.

  “I’m sorry, my dear,” she went on. “I’ve watched you this past week, watched how you’ve fretted, how you’ve suffered. As much as I have fought against this Eliza James, wanting to keep her from hurting this family, from hurting you, my heart ripped in two, seeing you in such pain.

  “I didn’t think you’d survive after Mirabelle and my granddaughter. I couldn’t bear for you to go through that torment again. I thought I was protecting you like I wish ... like I wish I’d had someone to protect my heart from your father.”

  She walked over to a portrait hanging on the wall, a picture of his father in his youth. Staring at it, she said, “I’m sorry I’ve let my own disappointments turn me into who I’ve become.”

  She touched his father’s painted hand. “I was not always this hard. I wanted a grand love, too, you see. I thought I found it in your father. He was all I ever wanted. But I ... I was not enough for him. Never enough.” She broke off for a moment, her eyes flicking back to her son’s. “When he stepped out on me, it nearly killed me. I loved him. I loved your father, Dev.”

  He made to walk over to her, but she held up her hand and shook her head. “Let me finish. I convinced myself if I was the best duchess I could be, if I followed every rule and observed every bit of decorum, I could win him back. And if not that, at least no one else would be able to find fault with me, not like he clearly had.

  “It didn’t work. He said I had become ... boring. Not only that, I found myself accused of adultery by my adulterous husband.” She bit out a caustic laugh. “As if I could ever do to him what he had done to me. And yet, I was still weak. I couldn’t refuse him when he returned home, even though I knew he’d been with other women. I loved him too much.”

  She walked back over to Deveric, smoothing his hair off of his forehead, just as she had done when he was a small boy. “I told myself if I grew strong, if I grew hard, that he would no longer have power over me.” She exhaled slowly. “I was wrong. He still has power over me, and he’s long dead.”

  She sucked in a breath, her shoulders shuddering. “I thought I was shielding you, shielding this family, by trying to keep you away from this Mrs. James. She was too different, too foreign, a commoner; everything I thought you didn’t need, everything I thought would only make life harder.”

  A single tear spilled down over her cheek. “I have seen in these last days just how much the American means to you, seen that this is much deeper than simple desire. I see now you are a different man than your father. You are like me. You are faithful. You will love only once. What kind of mother would I be to keep you from your chance at happiness?”

  Deveric crushed her into his arms. It was the first time they had embraced in years.

  “It will take me time to accept this, dearest. To accept her. But I will not attempt to stop you any longer. Go to her,” she said, the tears flowing openly now.

  His own eyes threatened to spill over. “Thank you, Mother.” He wiped a tear from her face. “Thank you.”

  Eliza stood at the edge of the bed, clutching the post, praying for the dizziness to subside. She was so tired of lying around. She wanted to get up, to do something.

  The door swung open and Deveric strode through. When he saw her standing there, unsteady on her feet, he raced to her. “What are you doing?” he chided, fear lacing his voice. “You need to be lying down!”

  “All I’ve been doing is lying down,” she grumbled, even as she grabbed on to his shirtfront for support. She was so close to him, his delicious woodsy scent enveloped her. She closed her eyes and breathed in, savoring his nearness. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she sighed as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Ah, Eliza. My sweet Eliza,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.

  She pulled back and looked up at him, drinking in those vibrant green eyes, which glowed with emotion. She said nothing, the expression on his face, so gentle and yet so fierce, hypnotizing her.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. She knew he meant it to be a light kiss, nothing more. But as he tried to lift his head, she snaked her arm up and around his neck, sinking her fingers into his hair, pulling him back down to her. She kissed his chin, then the corner of his mouth, then settled her lips on his, tasting him, teasing him, darting her tongue out and licking his lower lip. He groaned and opened his mouth, returning her caress, drinking her in. She let him. His hand slid up her side and around to her front, over her breast. Her nipple puckered as his fingers traced it, and she moaned.

  At the sound, Deveric’s eyes flew open and he released her mouth. “Oh, God, Eliza, I’m so sorry.” A muscle in his cheek ticced.

  Eliza grimaced. “Will you stop apologizing every time you kiss me, you big idiot?”

  “Idiot?” he repeated.

  “Yes. Idiot.
I like you kissing me. I want you to kiss me. For Pete’s sake, I need you to kiss me.”

  He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “But you’re still recovering. I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”

  “The only way you hurt me is when you stop, dummy.”

  He chuckled. “Your choice of vocabulary is making me doubt your claims.”

  She nipped at his lips. “Get used to it, blockhead.”

  He laughed, a full, rich bellow. She loved it, the joy she heard in his voice.

  Eliza let go of him and sat back down on the bed. “In truth,” she confessed, “I am a little dizzy. While I think that might just be the power of your kisses, I probably should lie down. Will you lie with me?”

  She moved higher on the bed, patting the space next to her.

  “You want me to lie with you?” he repeated.

  She smirked. “What? Do you think I’m going to impugn your honor?”

  “I might impugn yours,” he teased.

  “A woman can hope.”

  He stalked to the door, and for a moment, she worried he was leaving her, that she’d gone too far. Instead, he thrust the bolt in the lock and then drew the curtains closed over the windows, before returning to her, his eyes dark, expression inscrutable.

  Deveric settled himself on the bed next to her, lying on his side so they were face-to-face. He reached out and traced a finger down her cheek, a myriad of emotions skittering across his face. “Eliza, why did you ask Becca to go to the monolith? How did you even know it was there?”

  She stared into his rich green eyes, mesmerized by the pulsating orbs. “I ... I ... Cat wrote about it. She told me if I ever wanted to go home, I should find the monolith.”

  He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

  “I was to sit on the rock in the middle of the stones and wish to be with William Dawes.”