A blush burned in her cheeks. “I am trying my best.”
“That is all I have ever asked.” Then he escorted her from the room, but the words didn’t alleviate her worries.
Driving through Hyde Park in an open carriage was much different than when he’d taken her out in his curricle that seemingly long-ago day. It was more exciting. The crush of carriages on the street slowed their progress, and the shouts of greetings blended with the low buzz of excited conversations all around them.
“Is all of London here?” Though she had a light wrap about her shoulders, the slight chill of autumn sent a shiver through her.
“Could be. I usually avoid the park at this time of day,” Donovan responded with humor clinging to his voice. “And, in the event you are wondering, yes. There are plenty of eyes on you, so smile and pretend you are happy with your life.”
She turned her face toward him, leaned close enough to catch the wink of the emerald stick pin in the pristine, snowy folds of his cravat. “I am happy, Donovan.”
“Because you married me?”
“That’s part of it, of course. I feel pulled out of the shadows now that I’m with you, but I was happy in my life before you came along.” She placed her hand over his free one that rested on his thigh. “If a person isn’t happy with current circumstances and themselves, they will never find that or contentment with what comes after.”
“You are all too wise, my sweet country flower. And that is dangerous to a man of my position, for it sets me to thinking.” His shoulder brushed hers as he manipulated the reins.
“Introspection is oftentimes cleansing.” Alice smiled. In the short time she’d known him, he’d grown, even if he didn’t see it. She didn’t wish to change him into something different entirely, merely to enhance what he already was.
Even if he’s a wolf part of the time?
She didn’t have answer for that. How could she accept his other life when that persona labored beneath a curse, but how could she not, when both halves of him made up the duke that he was, the man she loved?
And if she couldn’t, did that mean she didn’t love him enough?
“The fact you find peace in your life despite everything intrigues me. I almost envy you.” He kept his voice low, for there wasn’t any privacy in the crush of vehicular traffic. At times carriages stopped alongside theirs on both sides and greetings were exchanged, interrupting conversation. During a lull, he said, “My father never came to terms with the curse.” When she drifted as close as she dared in such a public setting, she caught the tick of a muscle in his clean-shaven jaw. “He never understood how to balance the two halves of himself. This alienated my mother. She loved him, but he couldn’t keep out of his own head enough to return her regard. Perhaps their union became a casualty of the curse, for it does state all males are destined to live their lives unloved.”
She thrilled that her husband deemed it wise to open up to her. “I’m sorry to hear that. My parents, on the other hand, showed their love often. Anytime they could, they held hands or shared kisses, regardless of who was around.” A smile tugged at her lips. “I liked seeing their obvious affection for each other. It was… encouraging, gave me hope for my own life. Of course, my father, though connected loosely to the ton, wasn’t nearly as high on the instep as yours, but titles shouldn’t matter where love is concerned.”
Donovan remained silent for some time as he navigated traffic. “You were loved, felt that love, as a child?”
“I did. Until my parents died. After I went to live with the baron, I didn’t experience any such thing again. It was a lonely time, and I had difficulties adjusting.”
“Understandable.” He squeezed her fingers. “My childhood was much different than yours. Father gave his wolf control more days than not. He wasn’t home much, chose to spend his days at the country estate, for he’d been black-balled in the House of Lords, so he had no obligations to spend time in London. The title is still not accepted.”
“Except his wife was there.” His must have been a sad and dismal life with his parents so broken.
“Yes. Mother tried, but Father couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her in. He kept to himself, tortured by the beast and knowing there was no escape. It made for a dreadful childhood, especially when I suffered the same fate.”
“He didn’t help you, guide you through the awfulness of shifting?” Was that how all ton families worked? Fingers of anxiety clawed at her insides. Would Donovan act the same if they had children?
“No. He was riddled with self-loathing and anger. He allowed no one close. Mother, Elizabeth, and I were left to our own devices until the day Mother died attempting to birth my brother. Perhaps losing them both helped to drive my father further over the edge.” Donovan released her hand, and then was distracted by a greeting from someone he apparently knew.
“Is that the fate you are heading for?” she asked in a small voice and leaned away from him. “Losing control and shunning life?”
“I don’t know.” He offered nothing else.
Wisely, Alice kept her own counsel. She tipped her face to the sun and reveled in the warmth.
After a while, he resumed his story. “Living as the wolf wreaked havoc on my life, especially as I grew into a man. By then, Mother had disengaged from life and Elizabeth was away at finishing schools. I was angry, unsure… randy as hell once I’d returned from the war.” He laughed, but there was no bitterness in the sound, only memories. “As a duke’s son and heir, women showed interest in me. I explored.” He shrugged. “I sowed wild oats, many of them. Such… activities appeased the beast for a time, since I’d had my fill of fighting, killing men in battle.”
She didn’t wish to hear this, didn’t want to know the sordid details of his life before her, but it had helped make him into the man he was today. “Did you fall in love?” Mindful of Elizabeth’s story, she didn’t say more.
“Yes.” The word sounded pulled from him. “Shortly after I came into the title, I met a woman, bedded her, fell hard for her.” His voice took on an edge she’d not heard before, and it frightened her. “Compelled by the curse to tell her of my affliction, I proposed to her and after my declaration, I revealed everything.”
“And she left you.” Alice’s heart throbbed in sympathy for him. “That is why you only wish for shallow relationships and have had a string of mistresses.” Then she gasped. “You refuse to engage your heart for fear of being hurt again.” He will never love me.
“I’m sorry.” The whispered response stabbed through her chest.
“So am I.” She scuttled further away on the bench until she butted against the side of the carriage. Tears threatened, and she fought them, unwilling to embarrass herself or him by becoming a watering pot in public.
The carriage stopped once more in the crush. “Alice, please come back.” Emotion graveled his voice. “This life is difficult enough without feeling censure from you—my wife.” He cleared his throat, lowered his voice. “This isn’t about making a public appearance or a united front. This is about me telling you my history and hoping you’d understand me better.” A note of desolation crept into his tone. “I have few friends within the ton. I’d hoped… you could be one of them.”
If she wasn’t already in love with him, she tumbled headlong into that state now. He was so broken but yearned for acceptance, the same as she. “Oh, Donovan.” Alice slid back to his side and took possession of his hand. “Of course I’m your friend.” Despite being surrounded by prying eyes, she raised his hand and kissed a gloved knuckle. “Tell me of the people who are closest to you, of the Earl of Devon. He is a friend, yes?”
“Yes.” There was no mistaking the grin in his voice. “He’s my oldest friend, around my age. We grew up together, for there are a handful of accursed titles in the ton. Naturally, those families associated with each other since we are all outcasts from proper society.”
“What,” she dropped her voice as the sound of close-driving carriages increase
d. “What is his affliction? Is it the same as yours?”
“No. We all suffer differently. He is a vampire.”
“How utterly fascinating. I had no idea when we met at the wedding breakfast.” This world she’d married into was shocking, of course, but intriguing as well. It went beyond fairy stories into something real and raw and painful. “I’m glad there are people you rely and depend on. You are lucky in that regard.”
He grunted. “Fortunate is never something I associate with myself.”
“You should start. It could be much worse.” She squeezed his fingers. “Tell me about your wolf.”
Donovan blew out a breath. “No one has ever cared about the beast before.”
“I do.”
“I believe you.” He threaded their fingers together. “He leans toward being sarcastic. He’s extremely loyal. He loves to run, hates the city. He likes you.”
“What?” She started. “He knows about me?”
“Of course. He’s always in my head, always talking to me, arguing with me, like a damned furry conscience, but when I shift, he is fully in control, and once blood comes into play…”
“You lose yourself to the unique madness of being the beast,” she finished for him. Alice moistened her lips, and even as her heart pounded, she leaned closer to him and asked, “Will you let me see you in that form?” Now that she was beginning to understand him, she wished to know how to make his life better or more endurable.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Do you wish to experience it?”
Did she? “Yes.” She nodded. “If I am to accept you—all of you—I want to know everything, see you as you are.”
“Ah, Alice.” Donovan squeezed her fingers. “You may, but after the ball. I don’t wish for you to hate me for it.”
Before she could reply, someone hailed him from the street.
“Ho there, Manchester!”
Since the carriage was already halted, Donovan half-turned toward the voice. “Rogue. How serendipitous to find you here.” To her he said, “It is the Earl of Devon.” Then to the other man, he asked, “How is it that I find you out and about in the daylight, beneath the sun?”
“I am well enough cloaked, and I’ve had fashioned spectacles with tinted glass that shield my eyes. Makes for better tolerance.” He chuckled. “Meet me at Gunter’s, old chap,” the other man said. “I’ll secure us a table and we’ll have a chat. A pleasure to see you again, Lady Manchester.”
Alice waved in his direction while Donovan attempted to guide his carriage through the crush in order to park along the curb.
Her first time at the renowned bakery and sweet shop in Berkeley Square, Alice sat captivated at a darling little round table with her husband and the earl. Eating sorbet of all things. The frozen lime concoction danced upon her tongue in a burst of tartness and she exclaimed upon it so enthusiastically that the men laughed at her.
“I’ve never had such a confection before,” she said by way of explanation.
“Enjoy it,” Donovan encouraged as he sipped at a glass of lemonade.
“It’s refreshing to see such genuine delight in the ton. Too often the ladies of our acquaintance are bored with life, have no interest,” the earl said. He leaned closer so that he might enter her line of sight—had Donovan told him the extent of her vision loss? “How are you adjusting to married life, Lady Manchester?”
It was odd, hearing her title, but she replied as honestly as she could. “It’s an emotional quagmire that has glimmering moments of wonderful embedded within it.”
The other man chuckled with indulgence. “Ah, then the duke has told you of his secret?”
She drummed her spoon against the remainder of her treat. “Yes, as well as his need of me at the full moon.”
“I thought we had an understanding, dearest, that we would keep facts of our married life to ourselves,” Donovan interrupted. He tapped a piece of sponge cake against her lips. “Sample this. It’s marvelous.”
She rolled her eyes as she accepted his offering, no doubt to stem her words.
The earl laughed in earnest. “The best of women will always keep their men on their toes.” He continued to chuckle while Alice chewed and swallowed the cake. “In the event the curse isn’t broken, you’ll still have the wife, Donovan. I hope you’ll appreciate her.”
Her husband grunted. “I’m well aware of what the future entails if I cannot lift the curse.”
Trepidation climbed her spine, and suddenly her appetite for the remainder of her sorbet fled. Obstacles had already peppered their union. What were his plans for her after the full moon? It was a subject they’d danced around but never discussed.
The earl leaned toward her husband. “There are worse things than having a woman who loves you by your side, despite the affliction. I envy you, Manchester.” Longing roiled through his warm tone.
On impulse, Alice touched the man’s hand, and Donovan growled, much to her amusement. Was he… jealous? “Promise me when you court your lady for the same purpose you don’t begin your relationship with lies. Trust, once broken, is difficult to regain.”
“Note taken.” When she nodded, he continued. “I fear the year draws short for me.”
A slow smiled curved Alice’s lips. “There is always Elizabeth to consider. She’s wonderful.”
Donovan straightened beside her. “My sister does not need such a life.” His tone brooked no argument. “I wish a match for her with a human man.”
“She is stronger than you assume, Donovan,” Alice protested. “And if you can marry but are only partially human, why cannot your sister fall in love with a cursed man?”
“That is not up for debate.” A warning growl went through his voice.
The earl cleared his throat. “Perhaps at one time there might have been something between us, but now it’s impossible. Elizabeth and I share history that isn’t exactly pleasant.”
“Oh?” A strong note of annoyance had entered Donovan’s voice. “Such as? She’s never said so to me.”
“It is a private matter and a story for another time. I should go.” The earl stood. He brought Alice’s hand to his lips and kissed her gloved fingers. “However, I shall see you at the ball.”
“Perhaps we will have more time to visit then,” Alice said. Now that she knew how close this man was to her husband, she wished to cultivate a friendship of her own with him, to better understand Donovan.
“I look forward to it.” He released her hand and addressed her husband once more. “By the by, Lady Cecily sends her regards. I saw her briefly in passing last night at the opera.”
Alice frowned. Who was Lady Cecily?
Donovan’s growl was more pronounced and riddled with annoyance. “Lady Cecily can buggar off for all I care. She and I are done. Elizabeth threw out the belongings she left behind.”
Ah, she’d been his last mistress, but his assurance that she was no longer in his life prevented a blue mood.
The earl chuckled. “Good to hear, old chap. I much prefer the woman in your life now.”
“As do I, and in the event you wondered, she is taken, Rogue.”
“Don’t I know it.”
When he departed, Alice took Donovan’s hand. “How can I help soothe your ruffled feathers?”
He snorted. “I’m a wolf, my dear, not a goose. I have fur not feathers.” But he grinned, which prompted one of her own. “Perhaps we shall enjoy the afternoon before returning home for tea. I find I’d like to further stake my claim to you since Rogue had the audacity to touch you without my permission.”
A delighted laugh escaped her before she could recall it. Yes, her husband was jealous, and she rather liked it. A man didn’t fall into the grip of such emotion without being somewhat attached to a lady. “I wouldn’t say no to another bite of sponge cake.”
“I live to serve,” he murmured, but there was a certain note of satisfaction in his voice.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
September 30, 1
815
It was well after midnight when Donovan returned from a run as the wolf. Despite the late hour, he ordered a bath, needed to wash the blood and grime from his person, for his beast had been particularly intent on hunting this night.
As he stood from the dirty water and stepped from the copper hip bath, the door to his temporary room opened and Alice came into the room. The soft snick of the panel closing echoed in the silence.
Clad in frothy, lace-trimmed night garments of silver satin, she resembled a creature made of fairy tales in the light of the single, flickering candle that rested on a rose-inlaid table near his tub. “Good evening, Donovan.”
Tendrils of surprise threaded through him. “I thought you were sleeping.” He grabbed a towel from the back of the bathtub and hurriedly wrapped the cloth about his waist.
She moved toward him, her skirts whispering over the floor. “I was, but the rain woke me and I wondered what had become of you.” Even in the shadows, the blush on her cheeks was evident. “I thought you might visit…”
Was there any more adorable woman than her? Alice’s appetite and enthusiasm for marital relations kicked his own hunger up a notch. His member twitched to life. “I apologize. The day was eaten by business endeavors I couldn’t beg off from, and then the beast demanded my attention.”
“You missed dinner.”
“I know. When the wolf calls, there are times when I cannot ignore him.” He didn’t mention the metal claw traps laid in the woods around Shalford. Someone hunted him, which wasn’t an issue if he stayed away from the area. Still, it was troubling. But there were other rural counties rich with livestock.
His wife took another few steps toward him. “Are you tired?” Her eyes, wide and sparkling, were shadowed in the candlelight. What did she think of such a frank discussion?
“Not more than usual.” Shifting took a toll on his body and left him exhausted most of the time. He eyed her as she crept closer. Her brown hair, glimmering with highlights in the dim illumination, flowed down her back in mussed waves, tied back with a simple with ribbon. So innocent yet so seductive. A shudder of need ripped up his spine. “Ah, allow me a few minutes to dress, and then perhaps you might accompany me to the kitchens? I’m famished after the run.”
Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1) Page 18
