If Ever I Should Love You

by Cathy Maxwell

“You are going to make it too fast,” he warned, using his hands at her hips to show her what he wanted.

  She wanted it, too.

  He pulled her nightdress off, letting her determine the pace. His lips found her breasts and she thought she had discovered bliss. Her fingers combed his hair, wanting to keep him to her forever.

  And yet that would not be possible, not with the heat pounding through their blood.

  She understood more about how to please him. Now, he was teaching her what it meant to please herself.

  Leonie moved faster, marveling at the desire spiraling tighter and tighter inside her. His lips found hers. His kiss was wild and uncontrolled. It was as if he wished to breathe her in, to possess her—and she would let him. She wanted him to have all of her.

  They came at the same time.

  Nothing could have prepared Leonie for the experience of meeting her peak with his. Waves of exquisite sensual gratification rolled between them.

  Leonie lost track of time because it didn’t matter. Only this moment was of importance and it centered on this man.

  She fell forward, her head finding that nestling spot between his shoulder and his neck. It was all too, too good.

  His arms hugged her to him. She felt his breath in her hair. She could feel the blood beat in his veins.

  Her mother claimed that a woman’s body was power. Leonie didn’t see it that way. She was as hungry for Roman as he was for her. And she knew there wasn’t another man walking this earth who could satisfy her and help her make sense of the world.

  She knew that as clearly as she knew her own name.

  “Roman, I need you.” There, she’d said it. She admitted she did not want to be alone and that, for him, she would let down her guard.

  “Leonie, need is not love.”

  There was a sadness in his voice.

  She tightened her hold around him. What did she know about love? Had she ever seen it?

  Yes, it held her now.

  But could she trust him? Could she trust anyone?

  That was the question she could not answer, even as, with the trust of a child, she nestled into his body and fell into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

  The next morning, Leonie woke up in the big bed.

  The day was well advanced. She stretched, her body feeling good, and she remembered what had happened in the middle of the night.

  She rolled over, expecting to see her lover. Her husband.

  His side of the bed was empty. There was no indentation of someone’s head on the pillow next to hers, no sign that another body had warmed the sheets.

  Need is not love, Leonie.

  She wanted his love . . . she just didn’t know if she was worthy of it.

  Nor did she know where to start to become not just the woman he wanted, but the one she wished to be.

  She knew one thing—she must not ever take another drink.

  Chapter 17

  Roman had held Leonie a good long time after she’d fallen asleep. She was precious to him; she was also a danger.

  He’d carried her to the bed. She’d been so tired and sated she hadn’t even stirred except to nuzzle her nose in his palm when he had laid it beside her cheek.

  For years, she had occupied too large a place in his mind. Even when he’d cursed her, he’d tied himself to her. Now, she might well be carrying his child and they would be forever linked.

  What if she couldn’t rid herself of this terrible obsession with drink?

  Every fiber of his being wanted to lie beside her. He wanted to wake in the morning holding her. However, for his own sanity, he must place some distance between them, at least until he understood what he wished to do.

  He could not make any decision until he knew she was not carrying his child.

  Roman took himself to the stables. He made a bed in the fresh hay but he did not sleep well.

  He woke at dawn when Whiby and the post boy began moving about. He helped with the horses and then saw the hired vehicle off with a meal of bread, cheese, and some dried apples for the driver. Both Whiby and the post boy had kept their thoughts to themselves upon discovering Roman so newly married and sleeping in the stables.

  Roman broke his fast with more of the bread and cheese. He brewed a big pot of tea, thinking it would be good for when Leonie woke. He also took the opportunity to search the kitchen for anything that could cause her to indulge. Since most of his meals before leaving for London had been taken at his parents’ cottage, he couldn’t find anything. His mother must have brought the celebratory bottle of elderberry wine from her home. He also cleaned up the damage he’d done in the receiving room.

  He had a full day ahead of him. Hopefully, Yarrow and Barr would be arriving with the plow and goods he’d purchased in London. He wanted to contact the squire about buying some of his newborn lambs and Roman would pick those out himself. He also needed to take a quick walk through the village to let them know he’d returned.

  However, right now, he was too wound up in conflicting emotions to be of use to anyone.

  He’d always been capable of tying himself into knots and the only way to unravel doubts and uncertainty was with hard, manual work. His stepfather had taught him that lesson over a decade and a half ago and it was as true when he was a lad as it was now.

  Roman sought out the axe. He took a moment to sharpen the blade and then walked to the far field where there was a pile of wood from the clearings Lawrence had been making to the paths. Roman decided to cut it into kindling and split logs.

  Within the hour, despite the cold spring morning, David found him.

  “I heard the axe and had to come see who was out this early finishing what Lawrence and I started.” He was walking better today, but then his affliction, whatever it was, came and went. He noticed Roman’s concern and shrugged. “I must walk while I can.” He sounded almost content with a prognosis from his physician that would make most men weep.

  “You should still take it easy.”

  “I’ll be sitting out my days soon enough.”

  That was not an answer Roman liked, and only added to the weight he already felt. Unfortunately, David was feeling talkative.

  “Your mother and Dora left fifteen minutes ago to take a basket to the Poole family on the far side of the parish. They have two children down with a fever.”

  Roman grunted an answer before swinging the axe and burying it in a good-sized log. The axe went in but it was not easy to pull out. He had to put his boot on it and that didn’t make him any happier.

  “The log is too green for splitting,” his stepfather observed. “All of them are.”

  “Well, I’ve a mind to split them whether they wish to be or not.”

  “It will be hard work on unseasoned wood. You’d be best to stack it and wait.”

  He was right. But Roman wasn’t in the mood for reason. “Excuse me, weren’t you a lecturer? And not a woodsman?”

  “Even lecturers know not to fiddle with green wood. Indeed, I would imagine captains in His Majesty’s Army would also know as much. You are doing it the hard way.”

  “Sometimes that way is best.”

  “Marriage problems, eh?”

  Now he had Roman’s attention. “Why would you say that?”

  David sat on a piece of log that made for a handy stool. He stretched out the leg he favored. “Because you are newlywed and out here in the morning air instead of snuggled in bed with your bride.”

  “I have things to do.”

  “Aye, and you should be doing them to her. When I married your mother, we didn’t leave the bedroom for a month. We even took all our meals there.

  That comment truly annoyed Roman.

  “I’m sorry if I take my responsibilities seriously.” He had freed his axe and now gave it a swing on the same hapless piece of wood. The axe head dug in deeper, and was more stuck than before.

  Roman swore. He jerked on the handle. The log would not let go. He stepped on it and pulled. The axe barely
moved and Roman could have thrown the wood and the axe to the other side of Bonhomie.

  Instead, he stomped a step or two and then faced his stepfather. “I believe I should set Leonie aside.”

  David’s brows raised to his hairline. “Oh, that is a concern.”

  “Aye.”

  “You seemed happy with her last night.”

  Roman looked down at the axe stuck in wood and thought about the love he’d made to his wife. “I was.”

  “We knew you couldn’t have known each other well. When we received your letter, we feared you were marrying her for money. Thaddeus mentioned his suggestion in the last letter he wrote to us.” There was a beat and then he said, “Your mother and I had hoped you wouldn’t listen to him.”

  So, they had known. “Her money is the reason I’ll be able to rebuild this estate.”

  David looked in the distance a moment and then said, “We were surprised at how lovely she is. And she has a kind manner as well. I thought heiresses a man could marry quick were ugly as trolls . . . unless there is something that we don’t see.”

  Roman walked back to the wood pile. He righted another piece of log and sat. “She was once important to me in India.”

  “Oh, now this is an interesting piece of information. Was she the one you dueled over? She would have been young, wouldn’t she? Too young?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Young but of an age.”

  “Leonie is actually more beautiful now than she was then,” Roman admitted. “There is something about her that attracts men. Certainly, she attracts me.” Roman fell into silence, his mind busy with how he himself had orchestrated his own demise when it came to Leonie.

  David interrupted his thoughts. “Why don’t you make a clean breast of it? Tell all and then, perhaps, we can understand why you are out here instead of in bed with your wife.”

  Roman’s stepfather was right; his mind was a confused mess—and so he told the story he’d not shared with anyone, including Leonie’s shooting Paccard.

  “There was no duel?” David repeated as if needing to realign his thinking.

  “No, I fabricated the story to save her reputation.”

  “Do you truly believe any court would charge her for murder if this Paccard had treated her the way you say he did?”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. Her reputation would have been in tatters. I don’t know what would have happened to her.”

  “So, you sacrificed yourself.”

  “I took a risk. I’ve managed.”

  “Without the lady. That would have made me angry. But also, you may have unwittingly given her a burden that she has found too great to bear.”

  “Are you suggesting I should have let her be charged with murder?”

  “You don’t know if it would have come to that.”

  Roman looked across the field to where Bonhomie’s roof could be seen above the just-budding treetops. “She was too young.”

  “But then your paths crossed in London?”

  He faced David. “Thaddeus mentioned her name. He said her father was most anxious to marry her off to a title in exchange for a generous dowry.”

  “And you thought to claim her money?”

  “In theory.” Roman stood and paced a step, stabbing his fingers through his hair. What had he been thinking when he first saw Leonie again?

  “My attraction to her is strong,” he admitted. “She is the only woman I have ever wanted.” There was truth. He’d attempted to court others but nothing had ever come of those liaisons. “The night I saw her at the ball, I was angry and yet I had a knowing that, all along, we would meet again.”

  “She agreed to the marriage?”

  Leave it to David to find the heart of the matter. “She told me she would marry me, provided I let her live her life separate from mine.”

  “What did you say?”

  “No.”

  “And here she is. That must mean something. I watched her last night. She’d look to you from time to time as if needing reassurance, and you couldn’t take your eyes from her.”

  “She drinks.”

  His stepfather frowned. “Drinks?”

  “Aye, she has a problem. I was watching to see if she touched her glass of cider.” He ended up telling David the whole story, including the attack in the inn.

  When he was done, his stepfather gave a low whistle. “She is so young. It is a shame.”

  “I can’t decide what to do. I could send her back to her family, but her father wants grandchildren and has paid well for them.”

  “And if you keep her?”

  “I don’t know if I can trust her. Last night, she refused cider and yet when we returned home she found something to drink. I don’t want to live this way, always being suspicious. I want the trust that you and Mother have.”

  “It took years of marriage to build what we have.”

  “Her mother drinks. Her father as well. A more selfish fool has never walked this earth than William Charnock. He has money and a name but he lacks what really matters.”

  David leaned forward. “What of the daughter?”

  “I don’t know yet. I want to believe she is unlike her parents, except reason tells me I’m deceiving myself.”

  “But you really haven’t decided?”

  “No.” Roman paused a moment and then admitted, “Sometimes I believe I am overreacting. Other times I believe I’m mad. And still others—” He stopped, unsure whether to continue.

  “Still others?” David prompted.

  “I love her. I would forgive her anything. I should resent her. She’s already cost me my reputation. I am fortunate I inherited this title so I have a chance to begin anew. And yet, here she is—in my life again.”

  “Two things, son,” David said. Roman looked at his stepfather expectantly. Out of respect for Roman’s true father, David rarely used the word “son,” even though he’d had a hand in raising Roman since he was a babe. Roman had also learned that when he heard that word, he’d best listen. “The first is that love knows no logic. That is why the poets are good at it and the philosophers are failures. You will have to reach your own decision.”

  “I know that.”

  “Whichever way you choose, it will be right.”

  “I pray that is true.”

  “The second is that no marriage, no love, can survive resentment and a lack of honesty. If you keep her, then it is as she is. Not as you would have her, because otherwise, she will feel she must lie to you. You would be happy to have her return the favor if the situation was different.”

  He was right.

  But could Roman make peace with who Leonie was?

  He wasn’t certain, and until he knew, he needed to protect his heart.

  When at last Leonie saw Roman later that morning, she could tell he had reached the decision to keep a distance between them. She might have picked an argument with him but Yarrow and Roman’s valet, Duncan Barr, arrived. She was overjoyed to see her butler. He was familiar and she needed that right now.

  However, she could not help but note that the butler had a deep respect for her husband. Nor did Yarrow see Bonhomie as some crumbling ruin. He appeared excited to be part of the rebuilding.

  He and Roman spent several hours that day circling and touring the house and discussing what would be needed in the way of household staff. Yarrow also had suggestions for reconstruction of different rooms.

  Leonie trailed after them. She’d not had a full tour of the house and was interested in what they had to say, although Roman did not ask her opinion.

  Drinking the elderberry wine had apparently taken her across some imaginary line in his mind. He was telling her with his distance that making love was not enough. The hopeful anticipation was gone from his voice when he deigned to speak to her.

  What hurt most was that Yarrow didn’t notice this slight.

  The noon meal was taken at Catherine and David’s cottage. No cider or ale was served for the meal. Ev
eryone drank spring water, which was very sweet and refreshing, or hot tea with cream. They all treated her with respect, but Leonie was more than sensitive to the possibility that her in-laws were aware of her weakness.

  Nor did it help later in the afternoon, when Roman, David, Yarrow, Barr, and even Whiby went to the squire’s to choose lambs, and Leonie found herself almost obsessed with the thought of drink. After all, Roman had evidently decided her soul was black. He might enjoy her body, but that didn’t stop him from disapproving of her.

  At loose ends, she debated walking to the village. She might be able to find a bottle there . . . but at what cost? If her husband found out, and he would, she didn’t know what she would do.

  Then again, she didn’t know what she would do anyway because she wasn’t feeling very good. Her insides felt shaky and her nerves were stretched thin. But she stayed at Bonhomie. She managed to hold her own.

  Still, it was the greatest trial of her life and by night, even though she was beyond exhaustion, she did not sleep well. Especially when she learned Roman slept in the stables. If anyone thought it strange that the earl did not share his countess’s bed, they did not comment.

  The next morning, Leonie was again left to her own concerns. Yarrow and Roman had gone off to the county center to hire staff.

  She would have liked to hire staff.

  She wanted to play some role at Bonhomie, if Roman would let her. He was so busy being all things that he didn’t leave anything for her.

  Perhaps it would help if she found a drink. Then she would feel steadier.

  This time, Leonie was convinced that she could not survive the day without some fortification. She put on her bonnet and set off for the village. She hadn’t been there yet but she’d been told if she followed the path she would find it. How she would manage a bottle with her lack of coin, she had not quite considered, but she would think of a good excuse. She could be clever that way.

  Just like her mother.

  That last thought brought her to a halt.

  Tears threatened. She swallowed them back.

  She had to be strong. She couldn’t let this defeat her. Her will needed to win, because if it didn’t, she wasn’t certain what Roman would do—