“He was so loathsome to me, it never occurred to me to be afraid. I struck his hands away as he kept reaching for me, pleading in a way I can’t describe. It occurred to me then that he was pathetic. I think that’s what made the difference. I had this idea that he was so very vile because he was afraid of me, and he was doing this to despoil me, make me less fearsome to him. That may sound absurd, but it was what I thought. Perhaps it was what I told myself to give me strength.
“I told him how much I hated him I spoke of all the things I had held in my heart. He cowed before me. My words came spilling out in a flood of loathing, and he couldn’t bear it.”
She did meet Magnus’ eyes then. They were soft, she thought, wondering if she only wished it so. She continued. “After that, he never troubled me. He was no kinder, nor worse, merely beaten. He never looked at me and we never spoke. When he died. I was happy. I was relieved. Even being left destitute, it was better to have him gone.”
He reached out his hand, touching her averted face. As soon as his fingers brushed her cheek, she grasped his wrists with both her hands and buried her face in the large palm.
“Did you think I would treat you so?”
“No, I never did. I just couldn’t trust you, not at first. I mean, you were the notorious Earl of Rutherford. I didn’t dare think you were an honorable man. James was depending on me for his very life. Oh, God, Magnus, I didn’t know what to do.”
He pulled her to him, nestling her on his lap.
“Magnus, can you forgive me?”
Magnus buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. Forgive her? He should be begging her forgiveness for not understanding, not caring about the why of it all.
It didn’t matter now. There was only one thing that mattered, and everything weighed on it.
The light pressure of her arms about his neck was sweet, calling him to the heady promise of a kiss, an embrace, a touch that would heal everything. Yet the most important fact of all remained undisclosed.
Magnus found he was trembling.
“Caroline, I have something to tell you. Something very, very important.” He pulled her up so he could see her face.
“First, tell me you forgive me.” He could never resist the appeal’ in those eyes.
“Cara mia, I forgive you. If you need to hear it, there it is.”
Her teeth caught her bottom lip and she nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Now, what is it you must tell me?”
He realized she was afraid. His mind fastened on a dozen things she could be expecting him to say, none of them good, he would wager. He would lay another thousand pounds she never, never expected what he was about to tell her.
He could barely form the words. He was afraid, too.
“It turns out I am not going to die, after all.”
He hated the way it came out, blithe and light and not at all what he had wanted to say.
“I mean, I will, eventually. Just not soon.” God, he was making it worse. But he couldn’t bear that stricken expression on her face. His chest burned, and he felt a deep flush of shame for all of a sudden he had the overwhelming fear he was going to weep.
No. Don’t let her be sorry.
Magnus knew the power of silence, but he couldn’t still his tongue. “I was being poisoned, Caroline. I knew it when you fell ill. I realized the truth almost immediately, for you had eaten one of the thick doughy pastries that only I can stomach.”
“I had a craving for sweets,” she said in a small voice, as if he were accusing her. He knew by the flat, vacant tone of her voice that she hadn’t really comprehended what he had said. He remembered how he, too, had had disjointed, strange thoughts as his brain had grappled with the startling revelation that he was not ill after all.
“Yes, I know. It was a terrible illness, and I regret you had to go through it. Scared me half into my grave, worrying about you and the baby. Then it dawned on me how similar your symptoms were to mine.”
“I hadn’t realized it.” She put a trembling hand to her forehead, obviously still dazed. In a small voice, she added, “How stupid of me.”
“The doctor confirmed my suspicions. I was being intermittently poisoned by varying doses of digitalis. That accounted for the differences in the severity of each attack and the unpredictability of them.”
Her next words stunned him. “My God, Magnus. How awful for you. To think you were dying, to face that.” Her hands came over his, clutching with a fervency that seeped into his bones and filled him with warmth. Her brow creased. “Who?”
His voice failed him when he attempted to speak. In all of this, the pain of his brother’s betrayal was the one thing he hadn’t dared yet face. He drew in a shaky breath and tried again. “David.”
Gasping, she shook her head, murmuring, “No, it can’t be. You must be mistaken. I don’t understand any of this. Magnus, he loves you. He would never try to kill you.”
“Do you think I would make such a mistake?” he said gently. “No, Cara. It was he. Not to kill me. To make me believe I was so ill that I had to give over the running of the businesses to him. He needed money. He had gambling debts, it seemed, and—”
“Magnus!” Her eyes were wide as saucers, her face as ghostly pale as a wraith. Her hands grabbed great fistfuls of his shirt and she curled into a tight ball against his chest.
His hands came to her shoulders which were shaking with her sobs.
“My God, I must be the stupidest woman in the world!” she cried. When she looked at him, her face was streaked with tears. Speechless, he let her gather his face in her hands. “You just told me you’re not dying and I’m questioning you like an idiot! Oh, Magnus, you aren’t ill. You are going to live!”
His voice came out only slightly better than a hoarse croak. “Then you are pleased?”
“Pleased? Pleased?” Her laugh was high-pitched and a little hysterical, not at all the pleasant sound he was used to. She was giddy, she was euphoric. No words could have told him more succinctly, or with more blessed clarity what lay in her heart.
The dam burst, flooding him with a surge of emotion that left him weak. She was saying over and over, “I’m so happy. Magnus, I’m so happy.”
Then she stopped, sobering all at once and giving him that stare that said she was wary. “Do you still want me? And the baby?”
He had never thought she would doubt it. Yet, he understood. Just as he had tortured himself with thoughts that she might not want to stay with him, she was afflicted with similar doubts. It wasn’t the least bit funny. Nevertheless, his laughter rumbled out of him, loud and raucous and filled with joy.
He saw her look of consternation, a flash of drawn brows and a dropping of her jaw, before he swept her against him. Even as he let loose the wild delirium that tossed him on its heady ride, he felt a sting in the back of his eyes.
“My love, my precious, precious love,” he said. Her head whipped around, bringing them nose to nose. “Can it be I fooled even you?”
Her smile appeared, filled with so much it was almost blinding. “Then, you want me?”
“Cara mia, I might as well truly be dead without you. Yes, I want you with me, always. You have given me everything.” His voice faltered. Damn it, he would not back away from this now. If he did, then everything his father had accused him of would be true. And, strangely, it was not so very hard to say, “My God, Caroline, don’t you know I’m mad for you?”
“Oh, Magnus, I love you,” she declared. His eyes fastened on her lips as they formed those words. He let them seep into his soul before pulling her to him. His mouth closed over hers, claiming her anew. And she answered. Her mouth answered and her body answered and her arms twining around his neck, her hands splayed over the back of his neck to twist in his hair, answered every question that ever mattered.
He loved, was loved in return, as incredible as that was, and from this improbable eventuality a new life grew. Their child, made in passion. Had any man had so much?
“So, you
will not hate our child, I trust.” Her lips were against his, an impish smile playing on them. “Even if he has terrible temper tantrums or wants you to applaud his drawings?”
He grinned, loving the molten feeling those images pumped into his limbs. “I shall drool over every stroke and indulge him without conscience.”
“And if she is a girl, you will teach her to dance and bounce her on your knee?”
“I will make her a princess.”
A slow smile spread her lips. He loved her smile. He felt heat in his loins and he wanted to kiss her again.
“You are making me insane,” he muttered, giving into the tempting curve of her neck. He heard her sigh. It was like music.
“You are a wicked earl. Now I know how you got such a reputation.”
“Would you like to see more?”
“Mmm.”
His hands shifted to her bottom, bringing her up to settle more comfortably on his lap. His arousal strained against his trousers, aching with need that made him grit his teeth and frown in concentration.
“David told me I was lucky to have faced death.”
“What a terrible thing to say.”
“He’s right, though. It galls me to say it, but he is. It was only when I thought I was dying that I realized what life meant to me. And after all, Cara mia, he gave me you.”
“What did you do to him?”
He paused, tracing the exciting valley between her breasts. He smiled when her breath hitched. “I sent him away without a farthing. His creditors will deal with him.” When she was silent, he added, “At least, that’s what I led him to believe. This afternoon, I had a messenger give him a banknote worth fifty thousand.”
“Pounds?”
He chuckled at the expression on her face. “It’s his settlement. He’s never to bother us again.”
“Oh, Magnus, I’m so sorry.” The soft kisses she pressed on his brow, across the bridge of his nose were stirring his blood to near combustible levels.
“I also included a note,” he said, sighing against the gentle pressure of her lips against his. “I asked him how beneficial he found facing certain death. It was small of me, I know. My temper is improving, but not that much.”
“I love you just as you are.”
“A curious affliction for such a sensible woman as yourself.”
Her eyes danced. She delicately traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue. “We all have our failings.”
He brought his mouth fully over hers.
She pulled back, still smiling. “And you are mine.”
Letting out a low growl, he set her on her feet, only to sweep her into his arms, bearing her to the bed where he laid her upon the coverlet.
With aching slowness, he undressed her, then rid himself of the nuisance of his own clothing. Lying beside her, he placed first his hand, then his cheek, to the hard swell just beginning to rise in her abdomen.
“You are mine, Cara mia,” he murmured, running his lips over her taut flesh. He could hear her breath coming in short audible gasps as his hands slid over her skin. “Mine. You are my love, my life, everything that matters. I shall love you for eternity.”
“Love me, Magnus,” she said, pulling him up to her. “Never stop, not tonight, not ever.”
He kissed her. He spoke words he didn’t know he could, words that poured forth from his soul. He drank in her passion, her sultry movements, her murmured endearments and when it was over and they lay in each other’s arms, he closed his eyes and felt, for the first time since he had been a small child, the blessed, sweet calm of utter peace.
Epilogue
The morning was already warm enough to raise a thin sheen of sweat. It was a fine day for working in the garden. Magnus had stripped off his shirt and used it to wipe his brow as he surveyed his work. The roses were in bloom in an erratic explosion of pinks, salmons, yellows, whites and bloodreds. He looked about him in satisfaction.
Life was all around him, vibrant and real. His scalp tingled. He leaned on his hoe and squinted up at the sun. He smiled. Contentment filled him in one swift surge.
A sound made him turn around. Caroline was coming down the lane, holding tiny Esmine in her arms. His daughter spotted him and waved her arms excitedly, her cries of delight as sweet as birdsong.
His heart, that fragile part he thought would rob him of ever setting eyes on his child, constricted in a spasm of pure joy.
“Esmine has something she wants to show you,” Caroline said. She set their daughter down on the grass. Esmine’s bare toes curled, gripping the turf. Her fingers were wrapped tightly about Caroline’s index finger as she played at lifting her feet.
“She wants to walk to her Papa,” Caroline announced.
The child was only nine months old. Tolerantly, Magnus hunkered down and held his arms out. To his surprise, Esmine let go of her mother and toddled three good steps before lunging into his arms.
“She walked!” he exclaimed.
“Isn’t she a genius!” Caroline clapped for their child’s momentous accomplishment.
“No child has ever been so clever.” He covered the cherubic face with kisses, making Esmine giggle.
She was the perfect blend of both of them. Her hair was flaxen, like her mother’s, but it was curly, like his. Her eyes were vivid green. His eyes. Caroline’s nose and her mouth, too. It wrenched his gut to think of that mouth as the child grew into womanhood. Well, he would just have to watch her like a hawk.
It was good he had such a damning reputation. Hopefully it would scare the daylights out of her suitors.
“What are you thinking?” Caroline came up to hook her arm through his. She was smiling at him.
“I was thinking of Esmine’s beauty, and what a burden it will be to us. I am determined to terrorize all the young bucks of London.”
“So you would keep her a spinster?”
“Would that be so bad?” He gazed once again at his adorable child.
“And cheat her out of the happiness we know? Magnus, really.”
The good-natured reprimand made him sigh. “Very well. She may marry when she is thirty.”
Caroline giggled. “You are a wicked earl. Come, Esmine, your performance is over. Papa must return to work and it’s time for your nap.”
Esmine went to her mother without protest. Caroline reached up on tiptoe, brushing her lips much too briefly against Magnus’ mouth.
“Esmine is going to nap,” he said thoughtfully. “Are you in the mood for a ride, Cara? There is a spot I know, by the Witch’s Cauldron. A beautiful spot perfect for making love.”
He savored the flush that flooded her features. He would never grow accustomed to the beauty of his wife, or the response she could stir in him with the slightest provocation.
Her mouth twisted in a wry, good-natured grin. “Yes, I think an outing would be just the thing. Esmine, say goodbye to Papa.”
The child let out a garrulous cry as Caroline bore her back to the house. Magnus went to the stables to order their horses prepared before dashing up to his room to change. It took only a few moments, for his anticipation made him hurry.
It was a beautiful day, he mused when he was at the stables, striding toward his stallion. Caroline waited, seated astride her mare with eyes bright with love and adoration and desire.
Oh, yes, a glorious day.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781408989548
A Rose at Midnight
© Jacqueline Lepore Navin 1999
First Published in Great Britain in 1999
Harlequin (UK) Limited
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval syste
m, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
A Rose at Midnight Page 25
