Title Sinful Tales of Desirable Ladies

by Lucinda Nelson

  If he hoped to keep her, he had to act now.

  And to keep that from happening, he had to tell her how he felt about her. But what if she didn’t believe him? He’d known men who could be careless with their feelings to get what they wanted from a woman.

  Henry had to prove it.

  So, having made up his mind, Henry enlisted Alfred’s services and asked him to have the kitchen staff prepare a special dinner for him and Maggie.

  While Maggie and Rachel spent time together in the gardens, Henry spent his day with Alicia. And he was surprised to find that, as the day passed, he grew increasingly nervous for the evening.

  ***

  “Henry.”

  Henry looked up to see Rachel standing in the doorway of the library. It was the evening now, just before Alicia was due to go to bed. Rachel came towards him and Alicia to take a look at what they were doing. “That’s beautiful, Alicia,” Rachel remarked. It was a drawing of Radingley, and there was a wonderful rainbow arcing over the house.

  “And what are you drawing, Henry?” She asked, bemused. But when she saw what he’d been working on, her amusement softened into what he assumed could only be nostalgia. He’d sketched Alicia, just as she was now; lying on her front with a pencil in her hand.

  “It has been a long time since I sketched anything,” he said. “I’d say the proportions are a little off.”

  Rachel took the drawing and shook her head, still smiling softly. “I can’t see a single flaw in it. You used to draw all the time.”

  He had. At least, he had before he’d been old enough to start courting, when he’d become overly concerned with what people might think of him. Drawing was largely considered to be a woman’s hobby, but Henry had always had a knack for it.

  He watched Rachel look between the drawing and Alicia, who was ignoring them. “You even captured that tiny wrinkle between her brows,” Rachel observed. “And her tongue peeking out.”

  Henry smiled as he looked at his daughter. She’d been making that same face for over an hour. The harder she concentrated, the deeper the wrinkle between her brows got. Intermittently, she’d switch her tongue to the other corner of her mouth, poking it out slightly as she worked.

  When he looked back up at Rachel, he saw that she was smiling down at Alicia too, with such an abundance of fondness in her eyes. “You can keep it,” Henry said. “If you like.”

  Rachel blinked, then smiled widely. “You don’t mind?”

  “Not in the least.” He stood as he said this. He’d been lying on the floor with Alicia for the longest time. A position he wouldn’t have ordinarily allowed anyone to see him in. But this was his sister, so he wasn’t too concerned.

  She held the drawing to her chest and looked up at him. “I will miss you, Henry.” Her eyes glistened as she said this, which made Henry frown.

  “It won’t be long until we see each other,” he assured her, with a perplexed smile. “You aren’t so far away.”

  “I know that,” she concurred, nodding.

  “Then why do you look as though you’re about to cry?”

  Her smile wobbled a little, and she wiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. Without her having to say, Henry understood. She wasn’t saying that she was going to miss him. She was saying that she had missed him.

  She was glad to have her relationship with her brother back.

  “Come now,” Henry said. He stood and drew her into his arms to give her a tight embrace. “We mustn’t be sad.”

  “I’m not sad, brother. I’m awfully happy.”

  He kissed the top of her head in answer. “I will come visit in a month. How does that sound?”

  “Oh, don’t come to London. Dreary place. I’ll come here. I’ve missed Radingley almost as much as I have missed you.”

  “You are always welcome.”

  Rachel stepped out of his arms, but twined their fingers together and kissed the back of his knuckles. “You won’t squander this chance. Will you, Henry?”

  He didn’t need to ask to know that she was speaking about Maggie. “You are insufferably nosy. Have I ever told you that?” He was grinning as he said this.

  “I know,” she chirped in reply, with a shrug. “But I rather like her you know. Perhaps as much as you do.”

  He somehow doubted that.

  Rachel crouched down and spent the next five minutes bidding Alicia farewell. She kissed her and held her tight. So tight that it looked like the poor child couldn’t breathe. Henry had to pry her away. They went downstairs with her to bid her farewell at the door. A servant carried her trunk to the carriage waiting outside, and they shared their final embraces in the courtyard.

  “Goodbye, auntie!” Alicia waved frantically as Rachel stepped towards the carriage, and Rachel waved back. But before she stepped inside, Maggie emerged.

  Henry looked back at her face. She was smiling sadly and offered a shy wave. But Rachel wouldn’t have that. She gestured for her to come towards her. Maggie did so, though she was obviously uncertain.

  Once the two women were facing one another, Rachel threw her arms around Maggie and hugged her. “It was a true pleasure, my dear.”

  Maggie hesitated for a moment, blinking in surprise, and then hugged her back.

  A few moments later, the carriage was rumbling away. “Why is she leaving so late in the evening?” Maggie wondered, as she walked back towards the house with Henry.

  “She likes the night rides,” he said, with a smile. It was another one of Rachel’s peculiar quirks. But another thing he loved about her.

  As they stepped back into the house, Henry called for Alicia’s nurse to take her to bed. Alicia complained, but did as she was bid.

  At last, Henry and Maggie were alone. They stood beside each other in the foyer, and looked at each other. “I suppose we should retire soon,” she observed, in a soft voice. She was peering up at him beneath her lashes, and she looked a little uncertain. As if she didn’t know how to behave with him anymore.

  “After dinner,” he replied. “In fact, I was hoping you’d dine with me tonight.”

  Chapter 33

  Miss Magdalene Riley, Daughter of the Baron of Brambleheath

  A governess and an earl, dining together alone. It was certainly a first for her. Before her family’s ruin, she would have had dinners with lords, barons and earls from time to time, but she never would have dined with a man alone. Her father and mother would always have been present.

  She supposed that her family’s ruin afforded her that small freedom. She didn’t feel as obliged to comply with convention anymore.

  Maggie went upstairs to change into something more formal for dinner, but had a bit of a crisis when she looked into her wardrobe. She wished Rachel were there with her. She’d know exactly what to wear.

  Maggie gnawed on her lip. It was just the two of them, but that didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t a formal dinner. At the same time, she didn’t want to be overdressed and have him think that she was bending over backwards to impress him. It took her a long time to decide on a gown that wasn’t too flashy, but that demonstrated that she thought well enough of him to dress up.

  Then she went downstairs and went into the drawing room. Henry was standing by his seat at the end of the table and he was dressed very finely in a dinner suit. He looked incredibly handsome. So much so that she felt her heart flutter when she saw him.

  “Good evening,” he said to her, and his voice was like a rumbling purr.

  “Good evening, my Lord,” she answered and curtsied.

  Henry smiled and flashed a glance at the servants lingering around the room, waiting for instruction. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Once they’d left the room, he said, “I wish you would call me Henry.”

  Maggie nodded and smiled shyly. “Henry, then.”

  They each took their seats. She was beside him. “You look beautiful,” he observed.

  “And you look very handsome,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink.r />
  For a moment, they just looked at each other, their stares so intense and heated that they could have surely melted ice. “Maggie,” he murmured, and put his hand on hers against the tabletop. “I wanted to say something.”

  Maggie swallowed.

  “What happened last night… I want you to know that it meant a great deal to me.”

  He gave her an opportunity to answer, but she couldn’t make her lips move. She felt that he was about to say something that would change her life forever, and could do nothing but hold her breath in fearful anticipation.

  “I want you to know that I… that I feel-”

  Before he could speak another word, Alfred came into the room. He was holding a letter in his hand. “My Lord, a letter has come for you.”

  Henry frowned and let go of Maggie’s hand. He looked up at Alfred and said, “I’m sure it can wait.”

  “The carrier intimated that it was urgent, my Lord.”

  Henry expelled a breath and cast her a questioning glance.

  At last, Maggie managed to muster some words. “Of course you must open it,” she said, in answer to the look he’d given her.

  “I apologize,” he said to her, as Alfred handed him the letter and a letter opener, then left the room. Henry cut the envelope open and pulled the paper free. Though Maggie was too far away to read it, she could see that it there was a long scrawl of poor handwriting filling the page.

  Henry was silent as he read. She watched his face and slowly it seemed to drain of blood. He read for a long time. So long that he must have reread three or four times, before he finally put the letter down.

  “Henry?” Maggie said, quietly. “Is everything okay?”

  She suddenly didn’t care that Alfred was still in the room, watching them, because she felt that something was terribly wrong. She put her hand on top of his and gave it a little squeeze, trying to get his attention. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s my wife…” he whispered, staring blankly ahead of himself.

  Maggie’s heart dropped. She looked down at the letter, then back up at his face. “What did it say?”

  Henry just shook his head and pushed the paper towards her. This surprised her. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have accepted the invitation to read something so private, but it was clear that Henry needed her to process this alongside him. Perhaps he needed someone else to see it, so that he could truly verify that it was real. That it wasn’t some dark imagining.

  Maggie took a deep breath and started to read the letter.

  My darling husband,

  I know that the time we have spent apart will have been cruel to you, and I understand the part I played in your pain. But I ask for your mercy now, both as your wife and the mother of your child. I need to come home to Radingley, Henry. I beg of you to let me come home, or I fear that the worst will happen to me.

  I can’t explain now, because I fear who might read these words. All I can say is that my circumstances have altered rapidly, and that I have no one else upon whom I can depend besides you, my darling. I will explain all when I arrive home in England. We will speak in private, where I can be assured that the information I carry with me does not reach the wrong ears.

  I am anxiously awaiting your reply. And I beg you not to hold my past actions against me. I made a terrible mistake, but trust that I have been suitably punished for it.

  With all my love,

  Amelia

  For a long time after she’d finished reading, Maggie continued to stare at the letter. She stared until the words started to blur together. It was obvious that the letter had been written in haste, because the handwriting was almost illegible.

  Maggie’s first instinct was to deny it all. She wanted to say that it might not be his wife writing at all. And that even if it was, she might be lying. She might not be in danger. Perhaps she’d just changed her mind, recognized her mistake and was manipulating him into taking her back.

  Once this initial feeling passed and she entertained the possibility that it was all the truth, what came next was jealousy and fear. She knew that Henry had a responsibility to this woman, even if she had mistreated him. She was still his wife by law, and she was Alicia’s mother. Henry couldn’t ignore this letter, and what did that mean for Maggie?

  Just as she’d started to be able to glimpse a future together for the two of them, this letter had come to snatch it away from her. His wife, who he’d loved so dearly – and perhaps still loved – wanted him back.

  How could she compete against that?

  The letter drooped in Maggie’s hands.

  “What are you going to do?” She asked, softly.

  Henry had his head in his hands. He lifted it and looked up at her with a desperate countenance. “What can I do?” This didn’t seem to be a rhetorical question. He was truly asking her what she thought.

  What did she think?

  The selfish part of her that wanted to preserve what she and Henry had thought that he should write back that she wasn’t his responsibility anymore. But if she was truly in danger, Maggie couldn’t live with turning her away, no matter how cruel a person she’d been.

  The unselfish part of her knew what he had to do.

  He was wringing his hands together, his eyes darting, and he looked like he was about to start pulling at his own hair. She reached for his hands and held them still. “Henry,” she murmured, as she brushed his knuckles softly with the pad of her thumb. “You know what you have to do.”

  Their eyes met, and she could see the hesitation in his eyes. The fear. “You’re frightened,” she added, with a tender smile. “It’s okay to be frightened.”

  For the first time, he didn’t seem inclined to deny it. After a moment, he nodded shakily. “I haven’t seen her in a year. And what about Alicia? How will she react to her mother returning after a year of absence? I don’t want to have to lie to her.”

  “You won’t have to,” Maggie assured him, inching towards the edge of her seat so that she could be closer to him. She felt like he was barely holding himself together. Like she needed to hold him together. “We’ll send her to stay with your sister. I’m certain she won’t mind.”

  Henry blinked rapidly, as if he was coming out of a daze. “You truly think I should tell her to come here?” He deduced, with a look of utter astonishment. It was clear that he hadn’t expected this from her.

  Maggie knew that this was her opportunity to tell him that she didn’t want her here. To beg him to choose them, their wellbeing and their young and fragile relationship, over his wife. But Maggie also knew that wasn’t a fair thing to ask of him.

  “I’m not sure you really have much of a choice, Henry,” she answered. “Could you live with yourself if you said no and something happened to her?”

  She could see the answer in his eyes. “But-”

  Before he could go on, she squeezed his hand and shook her head. She knew what he was going to say. What about them? “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  She wasn’t blind or foolish. Maggie knew that this decision might change the course of their relationship. He might take his wife back and banish Maggie from his heart forever. It was a terrifying thought.

  But neither of them had a choice. They knew what was right. “Write back to her,” Maggie said. Her hand drifted away from his, and she leaned back in her seat. “Tell her she can come.”

  “Maggie, I-”

  “It’s the only thing you can do, Henry. You know that.”

  Her words rendered him silent. Maggie stood and lowered her eyes. “I’ve lost my appetite, and I think you should do this alone.” She didn’t want to hover over his shoulder while he wrote the letter. What if he wanted to express his love? What if he expressed heartfelt concern? Or told her how much he’d missed her?

  It would all be too much for Maggie to bear witness to. She needed to protect her heart. Henry stared up at her, speechless, as she bid him a goodnight.

  She left the dining room and went ups
tairs to her bed chambers. Maggie wasn’t angry at him. She knew that none of this was his fault. That he was as much caught in a whirlwind of his wife’s making as she was. But she couldn’t fight back against the misery that overtook her as she crawled into bed. She’d finally had hope for them, and felt like she was watching it wither before it had even started to bloom.