“Yes. I was in search of a bit of quiet.”
“I thought as much when I caught sight of you leaving.”
Yet, still you followed, denying me the peace I sought.
He glanced around. “As I understand it, a good bit of your husband’s holdings will go to the Treasury.”
“Possibly.”
He jerked his head back around so quickly to stare at her that she thought she might have heard the clack of his bones. “Are you with child then?”
“That’s hardly an appropriate question at a time such as this, my lord.”
“Quite right. Regardless, you are a young and beautiful woman. I doubt you fancy the notion of a life alone and without comfort.”
Oh dear Lord. Was he honestly on the verge of making a pitch at this precise moment under these trying circumstances that she consider marrying his heir? Viscount Wyeth, at eight and twenty, was nearer to her age than Lushing had been and was quite the charmer—
“Perhaps you would not mind if I called upon you.”
Had she been standing, she’d have staggered back by the forthrightness of his statement and its implication. “I beg your pardon?”
“You are the most gorgeous woman in all of England. It would be a shame for such beauty to be spent cloistered away.”
She had a strong desire to smack him for focusing only on her prettiness, recalling how Aiden had thoroughly kissed her without knowing her precise appearance. Her words came out curt with disapproval. “I am in mourning.”
“Two years is an ungodly amount of time to go without the comfort of a man. I can be most discreet.”
“You’re married,” she pointed out succinctly, bristling with the knowledge that he would be so incredibly discourteous and disrespectful of his countess. Did he truly believe that Selena would think he would treat her any differently after a time?
“My wife and I have an understanding.” He took the liberty of sitting on the bench beside her. She shot to her feet, unwilling to offer him any encouragement in his pursuit of her. He grinned. Something about that grin was familiar and yet not. “You are a widow, free of societal restraints.”
“I’m not in the market to be your mistress.”
“The role would be temporary—until your mourning period is done with. Then I would take you to wife.”
“You have a wife,” she reminded him again, horrified that he was engaging her in this ridiculous conversation.
“One who is aging, not as vivacious as she once was. I doubt she is long for this world.”
Stunned, she floundered around for some retort. “She appears perfectly healthy to me, and I daresay I find her most vivacious.” Especially when defending the innocence of babes born in sin.
“Looks can be deceiving.” He rose to his full height, no doubt striving to intimidate. “I meant no offense. I simply wanted to assure you that if you allowed me to call on you, to offer you comfort during your hour of need, that my intentions would be honorable. If you do not deliver an heir after seven years of marriage, no lord in need of one will take you to wife. I am not in need of one.”
Her mind was stuttering with his implication that she was doomed to spend the remainder of her life alone, unless she accepted his offer. She was well aware that her current course could be futile, that she might be unable to conceive—that the fault for Lushing’s absence of an heir rested with her. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to accept defeat, not when so much was at stake. She could do little more than stare at this smug man who had, intentionally or not, struck a blow to her confidence.
“Duchess?”
Glancing over, she was grateful to see the Duke of Thornley standing within the curve of the path, having just emerged from behind the hedgerows. Or at least she hoped he’d only just arrived. She wondered how much he might have heard. “I was in need of some fresh air.”
Thornley looked from her to Elverton, back to her. “I can’t say as I blame you. Lushing was beloved by a good many. Still I think even he would have been surprised by the number of mourners who turned out today.” He ambled over to her, placing himself between her and the earl, effectively creating a barrier between them. “Elverton.”
“Thornley. I was just offering my condolences to the duchess on her loss.”
“I’ve no doubt she was comforted by your words. If you’ll excuse us, I wish to do the same—in private.”
“Of course.” Elverton bowed his head toward her. “Should you need anything at all, I am at your service.”
An offer she would ignore. Angling her chin haughtily, she met his gaze. “In case I don’t get a chance, please relay to your countess how very much I appreciated her presence today.”
He twisted his lips into an ironic smile, and once more she was hit with a sense of familiarity. Perhaps she’d seen a similar smile on Viscount Wyeth during one of the many times they’d danced. Finally, Elverton walked away, and the tension within her eased.
“Are you all right?” Thornley asked.
Looking up at him, she knew no propositions would be coming from this man. It was no secret how much he adored his wife. “As all right as any woman can be on the day her husband is placed in the ground.”
“That was a rather thoughtless question on my part, although to be honest, I was referring to your encounter with Elverton. I know sometimes he can be a bit . . . uh—”
“Of an arse?”
He chuckled low. “Insensitive.”
“He can be that.” She decided to move the conversation away from the man who had unsettled her. “I’m sorry your duchess didn’t come. I would have welcomed her.”
“Gillie didn’t feel the circumstances were ideal for making your acquaintance. But she does send her condolences.”
“Are you happy with her, Thorne?”
“Happier than I have a right to be.”
“I look forward to meeting her someday.” Other duties had prevented her and Lushing from attending their wedding.
“I think you’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will. I suppose you’ve come to know her siblings well.” Odd how she wanted him to reaffirm that her instincts regarding Aiden Trewlove were accurate, that in spite of his businesses, he was an honorable man. She knew her focus should be on Lushing this day, but he’d held a curiosity about the Trewloves, had even suggested she invite them to the ball they’d have hosted this Season. He’d been in favor of welcoming them into the aristocratic fold.
“It took them a while to accept me.”
She released a huff of surprise. “I’d have thought it would have been the other way around.”
“They are impressed with neither rank nor title. But there is a goodness to them that initially put me to shame. They look out for the poorest and weakest among us, looking for nothing in return. Lady Aslyn and Mick recently opened a home for unwed mothers, while Lady Lavinia and Finn are taking in orphans. My dear wife feeds the hungry.”
“With your assistance.”
He shook his head. “No, she was doing that long before I ever came along. I suspect Lushing would have supported all their various charitable works.”
“I’m sure he would have. He had an extremely generous nature.” She should stop there, and yet she seemed unable to do so. “There’s another Trewlove who’s recently opened . . . well, only ladies are supposed to know about it, and they were discussing it earlier, as inappropriate as that might be, but I imagine you know of it, being related by marriage.”
He nodded. “A club where ladies can raise a little hell. Aiden owns that.”
“Is it his intention to corrupt us all?”
He grinned. “You can never tell with Aiden.”
“That’s not very reassuring. Do you think women are unsafe with him?”
“He likes to have a jolly good time, but he’d never do it at another’s expense. He won’t take advantage of the ladies who come to his club, if that’s your concern.”
It was reassuring to hear voiced by an
other what she had already surmised. Not that she was going to confess to having gone there. “Some of the ladies sharing their experiences earlier are just so young. The older ladies were a bit appalled.”
“I suspect there are few places in London where a young lady is safer.”
“Perhaps my sisters and I will visit once we’re out of mourning.”
“It’ll serve as a nice distraction. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m most anxious to return to my wife.”
“Rumors are rife that she’s with child.”
Joy wreathed his face, and she regretted that Lushing had never had occasion to shine with such delight, to share in the elation of expectancy. “She is.”
“I’m so happy for you, for you both.”
“Thank you. May I escort you to the residence?”
“I suppose I’ve abandoned my guests long enough.” She slipped her arm around the one he offered.
“It’ll get easier,” he assured her.
“One can only hope.”
Chapter 10
He knew the moment she walked in that something was amiss, even with the damn mask keeping her expression from him. He could see it in the set of her jaw, the dimpling of her chin. When he reached her, before he could even touch her, she shook her head.
“I shouldn’t have come. I can’t do this tonight, and yet I wanted to see you.”
“What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.” Although he had his suspicions.
A quivering smile. “Would you come somewhere with me?”
“To the ends of the earth.” His immediate response took him off guard. It was not delivered in a flirtatious manner, but because he meant the words. He would contemplate that unsettling thought later.
A little huff of breath that might have passed for a laugh in other circumstances escaped her lips. “Not nearly that far. My carriage is down the street, waiting.”
“Then lead the way.”
He escorted her through the grand foyer, out the door, and onto the bricked walkway. Even with a destination in mind, she ambled slowly, her heels barely making a sound while they traversed as though she hadn’t the energy to lift her feet properly. She was saddened, melancholy, a woman quite possibly only a few days into her mourning period.
Either that or she was embarrassed and ashamed for falling apart in his arms the night before. But if that were the case, would she have returned?
When they neared the familiar black coach, the driver opened the door and she whispered something as he handed her up. Aiden resisted the urge to snap the man’s fingers in two. He was merely doing his job, but Aiden didn’t much like the notion of anyone touching her, which he knew was not at all rational. Following her inside, he settled on the seat opposite her, where he would remain until she indicated she wanted him beside her, holding her. Black curtains were drawn at the windows. A lit lamp inside provided him with the light by which to see her.
With a lurch the vehicle took off. Reaching up, she removed the mask and set it beside her on the seat. “No one is likely to see us where we are going.”
“Where would that be?”
“A cemetery. I do hope you’re not afraid of ghosts or hauntings.”
“I fear very little, sweetheart.” Not giving her what she required to be happy came to mind. “I’m going to take a wild guess here that you’re the Duchess of Lushing and the sorrow I sense coming from you has to do with the duke being laid to rest today.”
“How clever you are. Although I’m relieved that you figured it out because now you understand why it’s imperative no one else learn I’ve been to your club. I suppose you saw his obituary in the Times.”
“No, actually. I went to see my sister, who told me her husband was spending the day engaged in somber business.”
“Of course. Thornley came to show his respect. You should know that I’d have welcomed your sister into my home had she come, although I was not at my best. I didn’t expect it all to hit me so hard. Lushing had always made it a point to be at my side when guests arrived, to greet them and make them feel welcome, and today I felt his absence keenly. It struck me that he would never be there again. For some reason tonight, I had an overwhelming urge to go to the cemetery. Naturally, Kit would accompany me tomorrow—”
“Kit?” Another man who might need his fingers broken.
Her smile was brief but soft. “Viscount Kittridge. He and Lushing were close. He oversaw matters today, the procession to the church, the service, the burial. Since women are discouraged from attending funerals—we are too delicate, you see—I sat in the parlor while ladies tried to comfort me, mostly by talking about your establishment.”
It might have been inappropriate but still he grinned. “All good, I hope.”
“Oh yes. Apparently, the relaxation room is just the thing. You’ve not shared that one with me.”
“I’ll put it on the list, although I suspect you’ll find it a trifle boring. Ladies lounge around while men rub their feet or brush their hair or massage their shoulders.”
He didn’t think she was really listening, as her attention was concentrated on her knotted hands, and he suspected that if he removed her gloves, he’d find her knuckles had turned white.
“My attire is entirely inappropriate for visiting my dead husband, but I couldn’t very well walk into your place in mourning black—it would have given me away. For some reason I can’t explain, once I left the residence, I had an immediate need to go see Lushing and decided to disturb you and take you from your work.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You’re grieving. I doubt you’re thinking at all, but I’m glad you came to me tonight.” More than he cared to admit.
“I don’t know why I did. I knew only that I didn’t wish to be alone and you provided such comfort last night.”
He’d provided a good deal more than that, but now wasn’t the time for reminding her or teasing her about it.
“It was selfish of me to impose on your kindness.”
Although he’d not known her long, he’d managed to discern selfishness was a stranger to her. He’d known selfish women before. They wouldn’t have pulled a dodge in order to ask questions of him; they’d have used the opportunity to speak of themselves or to have him slathering over them. Even succumbing to her wishes had proved to be no burden. “If I didn’t want to be here, I’d have said no.”
With a sigh, she looked toward the window, no doubt forgetting that the curtains prevented her from seeing the passing scenery. “I should have gone to the funeral. I think it would have helped put matters behind me. At the moment I feel untethered. I suspect you have a dim view of me now that you know I sought out pleasure so soon after falling into widowhood.”
“People grieve in different ways.”
Her gaze came back to him. “Have you had cause to grieve, then, Mr. Trewlove? You told me no one you held dear had ever died.”
“There are all sorts of losses.” When his brother Finn had been sent to prison, he’d felt as though the iron door had been shut on him as well. He’d mourned the loss of someone who had been a part of his days, his nights. But fury had tempered the grief, and he’d known he’d see Finn again. Her husband was now lost to her forever. “I’ve been spared the misery of death.”
“You’re fortunate. I’m all of twenty-five and have had far too much to mourn.”
Her husband might not have brought her pleasure in bed, but it was obvious she’d cared for him.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and she appeared uncertain, even as she angled her chin in an attempt to put on a brave front. “We’ve arrived.”
For the life of her, she couldn’t explain why she’d gone to him, asked him to accompany her. She’d known only that she’d longed for his company, but not in the role of a lover—simply as a friend. A friend who laughed when she bested him. Knowing she would give away her identity no longer seemed to matter as she was relatively certain he’d have figured it
out eventually. They conversed far more than she’d anticipated, but she found she rather liked it. And if she required naught but silence as they strolled through the cemetery, she knew he would sense her needs and provide only his presence.
If they’d been allowed to stroll within. But when they reached the gates, and he held the lamp he’d taken from inside the carriage aloft, she could do little more than stare in overwhelming disappointment at the padlock that held them securely closed. “I’d not considered that they’d lock it up for the night.”
“To discourage graverobbers I suspect. If you can spare two hairpins, I’ll unlock it for you.”
“Are you also a thief, then?”
His grin, somewhat self-mocking, flashed in the night. “My brother was.”
Glancing around, she realized if constables were wandering about, they might be arrested. No, they would not. Her position would see her needs indulged. Reaching up, she removed two pins and handed them to him.
“Hold this.” He extended the lamp toward her, which she took without hesitation. He crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet, an extremely masculine pose. “Bring the light nearer, so I can see.”
Again she followed his order, watched as he placed one hairpin between his teeth, securing it as he straightened it with his fingers, then did the same to the other. “So your brother thought you might need this skill at some point?”
He inserted the pins into a hole in the lock. “My siblings and I had an understanding—if one of us learned something, he or she would teach it to the others. Mick taught us all about the nobility, peerage, titles, rank, how to address the nobs, how to drink tea around them.” His fingers stilled; he twisted around slightly, glanced up at her, and winked. “I could drink tea in your parlor with the Queen present, and she wouldn’t know I’d begun my life in the gutter.”
The Duchess in His Bed Page 12
