Reunited With Her Viscount Protector (Lords And Their Ladies Book 6)

by Mary Brendan

  ‘I was jealous when I found out about him.’ He halted just in front of her, his eyes as dark as the uncovered window behind. ‘So do you still want to share your innocent bed with me?’

  Dawn’s small teeth sank into her lower lip as she turned her head to avoid his heavy, knowing stare. No matter how deeply she once had felt about him, she’d never flirt with a man who was getting married. And she knew he was, even if she had no idea why he was. He certainly didn’t act or talk as though he were in love with Miss Snow.

  ‘It is getting late,’ Dawn said. ‘And Lily is tired.’ The little girl was rubbing her eyes and starting to whimper.

  ‘It’s been a long day for you, too. You should get some rest.’ Jack paused. ‘And thank you for your concern about gossip, but I’ve no need to explain my behaviour or beg anybody’s pardon.’

  ‘I see... All is well then...’ She managed a tight smile. She didn’t want friction between them over old hurts. He had been too good to her for that.

  ‘No, you don’t see,’ he growled. ‘There is much I want to say to you. But now isn’t the right time. When we’re back in London I’d like to visit you, if I may.’

  ‘Of course... I would like to stay friends.’ Dawn smiled as the child begged to be picked up, holding out her hands to Jack rather than her grandma. ‘I believe that Lily would like to be your friend, too.’ Dawn hoisted the child into her arms. ‘I’ll bid you goodnight. But...please don’t go outside to the stable. The landlord’s daughter assured me our chamber is spacious. If you change your mind about sharing accommodation with the tinkers, I’m sure we can manage adequately without getting in each other’s way.’

  He took Lily from her as the child wriggled, leaning in his direction and stretching out her small fingers. Balancing Lily on a muscular forearm, he slid his free hand over Dawn’s cheek with tantalising softness. ‘Life has dealt us both harsh blows, Dawn.’

  She knew of her own heartaches, but had little idea of what he’d suffered to make him say such a thing. Her eyes questioned him even as she instinctively angled her face into his warm palm. When his lips replaced his fingers at her cheek she turned towards him as though it were the most natural thing to do. His eyes were on her mouth a mere second before his lips parted them with a possessive hunger that whipped her back through years to a secret, thrilling tryst behind an oak tree in Hyde Park. Her hand raised, grasping his jacket as she returned the kiss. Through the pounding of blood in her ears she heard her granddaughter squeaking a protest. Lily was snugly embraced between them. Dawn regretted her behaviour; moments ago she’d believed herself above flirting with men who were spoken for. She quickly tried to put some distance between them, but Jack stopped her, gripping her wrist.

  ‘I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘Indeed, you should not...if you are engaged. Are you?’ she whispered, holding her breath while waiting for his answer although she already knew what it would be. She felt guilty and ashamed. He hadn’t forced that kiss on her...she had invited it.

  ‘I believe I am.’ He threw back his head and a curse was ejected from beneath his breath.

  Dawn busied herself picking up Lily’s doll from the rug, not wanting him to see the distress that final admission had caused her. She wouldn’t pry further into that or the blows that life had dealt him. He was a man on the threshold of married life with another woman. If he was waiting for his proposal to be accepted...so be it. Or perhaps it was just something as venal as a marriage contract being pored over that was causing uncertainty and delay. Yet she knew Jack Valance no longer had need to fortune hunt for a bride. He had found his feet and his fortune, so she’d been told.

  ‘I’ll bid you goodnight now, sir.’ She reached out to take her granddaughter.

  ‘I never forgot you, you know,’ he said hoarsely. ‘With all the horror of it I never could put you from my mind.’

  ‘What horror?’ she whispered, her eyes raking his tense features and her hands dropping to her sides as the child snuggled into him.

  ‘Nothing...forget I said it.’ He swooped on the bottle of cognac standing on the hearth, then, with Lily safe in his arms, led the way upstairs.

  * * *

  Jack wasn’t asleep, she was sure of it. Only her granddaughter was enjoying sweet slumber, her light, sighing snores audible in the room. Dawn guessed that he knew she was awake, too, although she was lying silently, fully clothed but for her shoes, with Lily by her side.

  Before climbing on to the lumpy mattress, Dawn had placed the flickering candle stub and a folded blanket by the side of the chair he’d said he would use. He’d courteously disappeared to allow her to perform her ablutions and settle herself and Lily beneath the covers. Quietly he’d entered the chamber a while later, taking his makeshift bed in the corner.

  She was feeling unbearably restless, but quelled a compulsion to rise and approach him to demand he told her about the horrors he’d mentioned. Her intention to be less inquisitive had melted as soon as she saw the raw pain in his eyes. He had soothed her distress and she was human enough to want to comfort him if she could, no matter their differences. But she knew he’d let the comment about his past slip out in an unguarded moment. He’d looked regretful afterwards for having done so. She was keen to have every detail of what had kept him away for so long. But what was the point in becoming too familiar? It was for his future wife to demand what he’d been up to, not her.

  Though tempted to leap from the bed to make the spinning thoughts in her head go away, she remained quiet and still. If she moved, he would, too... They would come together again and participate in more than a conversation...she knew it. She could feel the magnetism between them even now, in the cold, silent room.

  Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, feeling ashamed that she wanted him to just come over and kiss her again. She’d no liking for women who went after men when fully aware they weren’t free. She’d had her spouse and her family life. Jack Valance was entitled to have those things, too, without her feeling jealous of it. Feeling chilly, she eased the sheets up to her chin and watched moonbeams pattern the walls. How many lonely nights had she stared at her ceiling beneath her father’s roof, wishing that one day she and Jack Valance would share a bedchamber? Now they were, but it was too late for them to do anything but wish sleep to claim them. She frowned at her sentimental indulgence. They weren’t the first ill-starred couple whose love went awry. Those yearnings belonged in the past and she must be grown up about things now and accept he was somebody else’s future husband.

  She touched a forefinger to the bow of her lips where it still tingled from the pressure of his mouth. Though quick and unfinished, his kiss had stirred deep within her an excitement that her husband had never aroused. Thomas had always been gentle and considerate when he came to her room at night. She’d never refused him and had done her best to respond to him. Though a virgin bride, she had known what she was getting into when agreeing to marry Thomas Fenton and had stayed true to the vows she’d spoken in church. It hadn’t just been wifely duty; she had longed to become a mother, yet it wasn’t to be. She imagined that her husband had also been disappointed with the physical side of their marriage, comparing her to his lost love. But they’d never spoken of their lack of closeness and compatibility. It had just been there...between them...keeping their relationship respectful rather than loving.

  She gazed at the silvery disc glimpsed between the chink in the curtains, then closed her eyes, willing herself to empty her mind and fall sleep. Still the tormenting thoughts kept coming. Her late husband hadn’t been the only one who’d loved and lost. She thumbed tears from her lashes. Why be upset now? she inwardly scolded herself. She’d known for weeks about the rumours concerning Jack’s betrothal and hadn’t cried for what might have been after their reunion in the drapery.

  She was muddling up gratitude with affection; she still felt emotional after her stepdaughter’s
death...that’s all it was. Jack Valance had acted as a knight in shining armour during a ghastly time for her.

  Tomorrow she would be different with him...cooler. After that kiss he might believe she’d signalled an interest in a dalliance. His attitude to his betrothal indicated it was no love match, whatever the gossips said. But Dawn knew she was no man’s mistress. She believed in marriage and in fidelity. Vows spoken in church weren’t just words, they were truths, in her mind, and her conscience wouldn’t allow her to sully them. Not even for Jack Valance.

  A release of pent-up breath flowed from her as the muddle in her mind continued to deny her any rest. As though he’d heard it and it had prompted him to take a drink she heard the sound of cognac being swigged from the bottle. Raising quietly on an elbow on the bed, she took a peek at him. The candle stub had guttered low, but she could see his broad torso silhouetted by the dying embers in the grate. He was lounging back in the armchair in the corner of the room, head tilted as though he gazed at a spot close to the ceiling. She watched him raise the bottle from the floor to his mouth. Before he drank, he spoke to her.

  ‘Go to sleep...’

  She immediately sank her head into the pillow. He hadn’t sounded drunk, but harsh, and she hadn’t wanted him to see her watching him. In fact she didn’t know how he had as he’d not turned her way. ‘I want to drop off...but can’t,’ she whispered. Indeed, that was the truth! Her eyes felt hot and gritty with weariness and she craved sweet oblivion.

  ‘Are you cold?’

  ‘A little bit...’

  He’d approached her in a lithe noiseless way that only became apparent when his thighs appeared at the side of the bed. He settled over her and Lily the blanket she’d left for his use.

  ‘You should keep it,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll freeze.’

  He lifted the bottle held in a fist close to his hip. ‘This’ll keep me warm enough,’ he muttered. He placed the backs of warm fingers to her cool cheek so she could tell his temperature.

  ‘You are cold,’ he said. ‘Do you want a nip of brandy?’

  Dawn raised on an elbow to shake her head. Well, she had wanted to talk to him. She caught his hand as he stepped back as though to go, but he immediately freed himself.

  ‘I’m sorry... I just thought you might want to talk as neither of us can sleep.’

  ‘That’s not what I want, Dawn, and you know it.’ His voice was guttural and his dark figure moved away again, merging into shadows in the room.

  Dawn settled down beneath the weight of the extra blanket and closed her eyes. She put her arm around Lily, lightly, to warm but not disturb her.

  ‘Goodnight, Jack...’ she whispered into the pillow before finally falling into a dreamless slumber.

  Chapter Eight

  A pale light woke Dawn as it filtered between the velvet curtains and striped warmth across her eyes. She turned her head on the pillow to blink at Lily. The child was stirring as well and would be fully awake soon, wanting her breakfast.

  As her befuddlement cleared and memories of last night resurfaced Dawn knuckled her sleepy eyes, sitting upright. The chair was empty and a quick look about the room confirmed Jack had gone from it. Dawn got carefully out of bed, trying not to disturb Lily, and tucked the covers around the drowsing child.

  On the washstand was a basin and jug. She broke the veneer of ice on the water’s surface, then poured, washing quickly. She gasped as her skin stung with cold, but she was glad of immediately feeling invigorated in body and mind.

  Having brushed down her crumpled clothes, she neatened her hair, combing her fingers through chestnut tangles before deftly repinning a sleek chignon at her nape.

  She knew he had laid down with them after all. She hadn’t dreamt the sensation of the mattress dipping beneath another’s weight settling upon it. Neither had she imagined the feel of a hard masculine arm curving about her body. And it hadn’t been her husband she’d dreamed of; no phantom lover had comforted her, but real flesh and blood. She remembered turning towards him, nestling blissfully into a warm body without once breaking her sleep.

  Dawn used the spotted mirror suspended on the wall above the washstand to secure the wisps of hair that had escaped her attention. She gazed into a pair of dark green eyes and wistfully shook her head at her reflection. Leave him be...and he will let you alone, too, whispered in her mind. He has too much pride to bother with an unwilling woman. If you do not, you will regret it, not he. Once married...once he has his children...he might grow to love his wife and forget about you...mistress, friend, whatever it is he has in mind for you. You will end up alone...the fool who dreamt of happy endings. There are none to be had where he is concerned. You have another better cause to fight for. Dawn turned about and gazed at her granddaughter, wriggling to the edge of the bed to jump down from the high mattress. Keeping Lily was the dream to chase.

  She helped the child to her feet. ‘I expect you would like some breakfast, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Want Jack.’ Lily pursed her rosebud lips.

  ‘You should call him Mr Valance,’ Dawn said, crouching down beside her granddaughter and taking her small hands to squeeze and kiss. ‘And I expect Mr Valance is making sure his fine horses are ready to pull his black coach. Soon we will be at my home in London. You will like that, won’t you?’

  ‘Will Mama come?’

  ‘I’m sure she would like to...’ Dawn said huskily. She smoothed a hand over the child’s knotted fair hair. ‘Your mama loves you so much, Lily...and so do I.’ Briskly she stood up before her granddaughter noticed tears in her eyes. ‘Now, we had better give you a wash and tidy you up, young lady, then go below and find you something nice to eat.’

  * * *

  ‘Good morning. Is Mr Valance...that is, Lord Sterling...taking breakfast with us?’

  Dawn had found the landlord’s daughter in the back parlour, setting the table with crockery and cutlery. Of Jack there was no sign.

  If the room had been commandeered as a makeshift lodging then Dawn would not have guessed it. It was spick and span and everything looked as cosy and inviting as it had yesterday evening when they had settled down to dine. The only difference was that sunbeams rather than moonlight streamed in through the small mullioned windows.

  ‘Good morning to you, m’m. His Lordship ate earlier and so did his coachman. They’re outside readying the horses to journey on.’ The girl gave Lily a smile. ‘Now what can I get for you? There’s eggs and bacon, or cold ham and beef if you prefer. Bread baked fresh this morning and butter and jam, or honey if you like.’

  Indeed, the smell of frying bacon was evident. But it was the wonderful aroma of fresh bread wafting about the tavern giving Dawn an appetite.

  ‘Scrambled eggs and milk for the child, please, and bread and honey with some tea will suffice for me, thank you.’ She approached the window and looked out into bright light glinting on a thin covering of white. ‘Thank goodness it stopped before too much snow settled.’

  ‘It’s thawing nicely now, m’m. Some folks have already left.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Dawn hoped she’d not slept too long and delayed them getting an early start.

  ‘Just after nine, m’m,’ the girl replied and with a bob disappeared to get the food.

  Dawn realised she had overslept. At home she would rise far earlier. Little wonder she had woken so groggily, but she had felt warm and snug in bed despite being half-aware that Jack had removed the cocoon of his arm some time earlier. She led Lily to the fire to warm herself by its glow, showing her how to hold out her palms, then rub them together.

  ‘Good morning.’ Jack entered the room, crisp winter air clinging to his coat.

  ‘You should have woken me sooner,’ Dawn said. She avoided lengthy eye contact by settling Lily on a chair at the table. She felt bashful with him which was silly, she told herself. They’d done no more than what was sen
sible by sharing a bed and keeping each other and Lily warm on a bitter night. Yet she knew because of it there was an increased tension throbbing between them.

  ‘There was no need to disturb your sleep. You looked comfortable.’ He picked up a log from the basket, lobbing it into the embers, then forcing it further in with the toe of his boot until flames leapt up.

  ‘Did you manage to sleep well?’ she asked politely, still attending to her granddaughter. She’d not mention that she knew he’d come to bed with them.

  ‘I rarely sleep well.’ He sounded remote and approached the window to plant a large hand either side of the wonky black-timbered casement. ‘The sky to the south is clear...we should manage the rest of the journey home with no further trouble.’

  The landlord’s daughter backed into the room with a loaded tray and started setting out their breakfast on the table.

  The amount of food on display was far too much for her and Lily to eat. After the servant withdrew she said, ‘If you’re still hungry, I can offer you...’ Her voice tailed off as she became aware of his ironic expression.

  ‘I’ve eaten, thank you,’ he said with studied politeness.

  ‘Well, take some tea, sir, at least,’ she said, rather flustered.

  ‘So we are back to formality, are we?’ He turned back to the sunny vista.

  Dawn didn’t answer. What did he expect from her? she thought exasperatedly as she spooned scrambled eggs on to a plate for Lily and buttered her some bread. Why act familiar when they were on a path to grow apart? Or was she right in suspecting he’d deem his marriage no barrier to being close to other women? She’d offered to talk to him last night as neither of them could sleep, to help while away some long dark hours. But he hadn’t wanted that, he’d said. And she knew very well what he had wanted. But she wouldn’t fool herself that she alone roused his lust. She recalled the blonde woman he’d been squiring about town. Perhaps he intended to discreetly keep seeing his chères amies after the wedding. It wasn’t an uncommon arrangement among people of wealth and pedigree. A refined wife to produce legitimate heirs and a lover to satisfy a gentleman’s earthier needs. And if that was the sort of man he was, then she should thank her lucky stars that she hadn’t waited any longer for him to return and marry her. She might by now have been a lonely, bitter woman, trying to ignore whispers about her husband’s latest lady friend.