Lavender Lies (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  "I was reminding you that His Grace had asked if you would attend him downstairs."

  Lavender ran her hand down the yellow silk gown she wore. She thought she knew now why the duke had spared her life. He still wanted his revenge, but in a far more hurtful way than merely taking her life. He wanted to shame her, to parade her before the world as his harlot. Did he really believe she would value her life above her principles?

  She straightened her back and sailed out of the room. She had been ready to take on the whole of England, why should she fear to match wits with one duke? She might not have a title before her name, but she was a Daymond and that counted for something. She would never agree to be any man's mistress or doxie—not even if he happened to be the Duke of Mannington!

  15

  Julian came to his feet with an impatient oath. "Did you deliver my message to Miss Daymond? Does she not know that she was supposed to be here an hour ago?"

  Grimsley nodded. "I gave your message to the maid, and she was to tell Miss Daymond. Should I find out what is keeping her, Your Grace?"

  "Were you able to find a man who could perform the ceremony?"

  "Yes, Your Grace, a Reverend CresswelL As you instructed, I did not tell him you are a duke. He believes he is coming here to unite a common man and woman in marriage."

  Grimsley noticed that the duke kept watching the wall clock. "Do you want me to find out what is keeping Miss Daymond?" he asked again. Grimsley was learning that the duke was accustomed to everyone jumping at his command and became quite incensed when anyone did not immediately comply with his demands.

  "No, that will not be necessary," the duke barked with ill humor. "Go and find out what is keeping the minister. If Miss Daymond has not come down in precisely ten minutes, I shall attend to her myself."

  In Grimsley's haste to leave the room, he almost collided with Lavender. After what he had put her through, and knowing she was about to become the Duchess of Mannington, he avoided her eyes.

  Lavender listened to the door close behind her, feeling as if she had just been sent into the lion's den to deal with the lion. Her eyes met the duke's dark gaze and she felt her courage waning. Before she faced his imposing presence, she had decided what she wanted to say to him, but now she was not so sure of herself.

  "You sent for me, Your Grace?" she managed to ask in a stilted tone.

  He was dressed in a formal black suit, with an elaborately tied white cravat. Lavender's eyes were drawn to the contrast of his stark-white shirt against his deeply tanned skin. His stance was arrogant, his face handsome, his eyes probing as he assessed her with a curl to his lips. "Yes, I did. But that was over an hour ago. It would seem you took your time in obeying my command."

  Fire sparkled in her blue eyes. "You will have to forgive me, Your Grace, but, you see, I was not aware that you had issued a command. Had I known, then I would have rushed to you immediately," she snapped.

  Julian walked over to a green velvet chair and rested his arm across the back, while his eyes moved lazily over her face, with the same look of indulgence one would bestow upon an errant child. "There is nothing to be concerned about now that you are here. I have something to say to you, which may take some explaining. Would you care to be seated?" he asked, indicating the chair he leaned against.

  Lavender was further angered by his attitude. "No, I do not want to sit down because I will not be staying long enough to get comfortable. I know what you want of me, and I can tell you now, my answer is no!"

  A smile curved his lips. "Would you mind if I sit down then?"

  "Do as you like. You will anyway, with or without my permission."

  Again he smiled, and dropped down in the chair, all the while his eyes fastened on her pale face. "Just what is it you think I want of you?"

  "I am not a fool. I know what it means when a man showers a woman with expensive gifts." Two rosy spots appeared on either side of her cheeks. "You do not know me at all, if you thought I could be persuaded to be your ... your ... mistress."

  Humor creased his brows. "That is a novel thought. Pity it never occurred to me."

  In frustration, she tapped the toe of her yellow satin shoe. "I am glad you are amused, because I find nothing humorous about this situation. You would have done well to let them hang me, because I will not be agreeable to you, Your Grace."

  "I can remember when you called me Julian. Must we be so formal?"

  "Why do you not state what is on your mind so I can leave. I do not relish the thought of standing before you like a schoolgirl being called to task by her teacher. Keep in mind that I am not impressed with who you are, Englishman, and you do not have enough money to buy me."

  In a smooth motion, he came to his feet and towered above her. "I happen to know that everyone has their price. I wonder what yours is."

  Her steady gaze met his. "As I said, you do not have enough money to buy me, Your Grace."

  Julian heard her words, but he also saw distress and uncertainty in her lovely eyes. A strong instinct to protect her took hold of him. After all, he reasoned, she had been through so much, and she was carrying his child. If the baby turned out to be a son, he would be the future Duke of Mannington. Pride and ownership took possession of him. This woman was carrying his child, and nothing could keep him from claiming that which was his. He thought how innocent and unworldly Lavender was not to have realized that she was with child. It never occurred to Julian that the child might not be his. She had been untouched when he took her at the Swan Tavern. And he knew she had been with no other man since him.

  "What makes you think I would want you for my mistress? Why would I want a woman who is as disagreeable as you to warm my bed?"

  She looked uncertain. "What other reason would you have to rescue me and then shower me with gifts. Which," she continued in an icy tone, "I have no intentions of keeping. I would not have worn this gown tonight but for the sad repair of my own clothing."

  He smiled. "So you do not want to be my mistress, and you shun my gifts. What can I offer you that would persuade you to become the next Duchess of Mannington?"

  The duke stared at Lavender so long and hard that her throat became tight and she could hardly catch her breath. Could she have heard him correctly? Had he just asked her to marry him? He was so overpowering, she took a step backward. "I don't know what you are asking of me."

  He was so near now he emanated leashed strength. She was reminded of how intimately she knew this man. Her eyes were drawn to his hands, reminding her how gentle his touch could be, how disturbing, how sensuous. He smiled as if he had read her thoughts. "I have just asked you to marry me, Miss Daymond, dare I hope you will accept me in spite of the fact that I am English born. We cannot all be hotheaded, fire-breathing Americans. But would you hold it against me because of an accident of birth that divided our loyalties by an ocean?"

  She shook her head. "I do not understand any of this. You do not love me. In fact, you have pursued me relentlessly over the past months with the intention of seeing me hanged. You may think so, but I am not a fool, Your Grace. What is the game you are playing?"

  "My God, what an innocent you are. Do you know nothing about your own body? Do you not know that you are with child—my child?"

  Her face paled, and her hand moved involuntarily down to her stomach. "No! It cannot be true." Distress shook her small frame while tears clouded her eyes. "No, no, what will become of me now?"

  "I have just told you the obvious solution to your little dilemma."

  Frantically she searched his eyes. "Can this be true?" She asked for assurance. "You would not just say this to hurt me, would you?"

  He shook his head. "No, I can assure you I would not go to such lengths to cause you pain. I was told that a doctor examined you and came to the conclusion that you will deliver a child in the not too distant future."

  Her mind moved back over the telltale evidence that should have been obvious to her—the nausea, the fainting, and other more indisputable s
igns. Suddenly she felt trapped. Glancing around the room as if it were her prison, she edged away from Julian. "Just because the child is yours, that does not make you responsible for me. I do not want you, and I know you do not want me. There is no love between us."

  His eyes darkened. "Do you think I am doing this out of any love we might have for each other? No, Lavender, you owe me a life. You will give me this child to replace the brother you robbed me of."

  Her lips trembled when she realized he had found his final revenge. "No, no, this is ludicrous. If that is your motive, you could not possibly want a child from me."

  "I can assure you I have every intention of making you my wife tonight." His eyes bore into hers. "I have you now, Lavender, and you cannot get away." He moved in closer to her and stared deeply into her eyes, making her feel as if she would drown in the brown, liquid depths. "I do not need to have you hanged in order to punish you. I will make you my prisoner, and every day of our life together I will remind you that you are responsible for my brother's death."

  She could feel the trap closing in around her. What torment it would be to marry this man she loved with all her heart, knowing he only wanted her with him so he could torment her with the past. "I will not marry you," she declared in a bid to save herself from heartbreak. "Nothing you can say or do, Julian, will force me to marry you."

  He picked up her hand and held it in a tight grip. "Is there not? What would you sacrifice to keep the shame of bearing a child out of wedlock from touching the life of your aunt and brother? Would it break their hearts, shame them before their friends, if you delivered my baby without benefit of marriage? What if the whole of Williamsburg became privy to the fact that you gave yourself to the enemy? Do you think they would take into consideration that your only motive had been to use your body to save yourself from being captured?"

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "My aunt and brother would feel the shame far greater if I were to marry an Englishman, and a duke at that. This baby is my problem and does not concern you."

  "The hell it doesn't. This child you carry could very well be my son. Therefore he would someday be the heir to my dukedom."

  "Do you always offer to marry the women you .. . that you ..."

  "That I impregnate," he offered as his lips curved into a sneer. "No, you have the distinction of being the first I have offered that honor."

  She stared at him suspiciously. "You cannot tell me that you are interested in a child I might give you, a child that was conceived in a moment of. . ." •

  "A moment of passion?" he supplied.

  "What can be your motive? I am a nobody, while you are destined to marry into the nobility. You are nobility!"

  "I already told you, I want a life for a life."

  She jerked her hand away from him. "Please do not do this to me. I promise I am reformed. If you will let me go, no one will ever hear from the Swallow again. Suppose I give you my word of honor?"

  "I cannot let you go, Lavender. Although we did not know each other at the time, you have belonged to me from the moment my brother drew his last breath. You owe me, and I intend to collect."

  "But you are a duke, and I a commoner."

  He smiled. "There is nothing common about you."

  "What if I do not agree to become your wife? You cannot force me?"

  His eyes narrowed. "No, but it would take but a suggestion from me to bring Grimsley and his tribunal back into session. Would you really give up your life, and that of our unborn child, rather than take me as your husband?" He pulled her against him so tightly she could scarcely breathe. "Would you, Lavender?"

  She saw the trap slam shut around her. There was no escape for her. "If we were married, would you insist on taking me to England to live?"

  "I am afraid 1 must."

  "What would your friends say if you married an American? What would your cousin, the king, say if he learned you were married to an American spy?"

  "I will take you to Mannington, which is a long way from London. No one will ever learn our little secret."

  "Are you forgetting about Colonel Grimsley and General Cornwallis? They know who I am."

  Grimsley will not talk because he is too frightened to say anything. Cornwallis will not talk because he is my friend. Even if the truth were to come out, no one would care." He smiled. "They would only say how much in love we must be to overcome our differences."

  "Will I not be required to pay the penalty for my crimes against England?"

  His eyes darkened. "As the Duchess of Mannington, no one would dare reach so high as to punish you."

  "The king?"

  "Not even George."

  She was beginning to understand the power he exerted, the control he had over her life. Lavender was defeated, and she knew it. "Do I have any choice in this matter?"

  "I have pointed out your choices."

  She met his eyes. "I can assure you that you will not like having me for a wife."

  "We will not have to suffer each other's company for very long. Once you have been installed at Mannington, I will be off to London, leaving you to deliver the child. After that, you can do what you damn well please, and go to the devil in your own way."

  She felt a spark of defiance, but pushed it aside. She had no choice, and he knew it. "Tell me the rules, before I agree to anything."

  How cold and remote she was. He could feel her withdrawing from him, and for some reason it angered him. "The rules are very simple. You will live at my country estate, under the guidance of my grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Mannington. You will conduct yourself in a manner befitting to a duchess. When you are called upon to entertain, you will do so as befitting my wife. Should any of my friends come for a visit, you will convince them that ours is a marriage created in heaven. On the other hand, you will have everything that you desire in the way of comfort. You will be provided with the best medical attention.

  Anything you desire, that money can buy, will be yours. Is there anything else you would like to know?"

  "Will I be allowed to see my aunt and brother before we leave?"

  "I'm afraid not. I do not trust you that far. But they will be informed that you have become my wife and that we have sailed to England on tomorrow's tide."

  Tears glistened in her eyes. "I will hate you for this."

  He smiled, and in his eyes she saw satisfaction. "You have no doubt noticed that your love was not one of the requirements I stated. Love me or hate me, as you will. It is of no importance to me."

  Oh, yes, she thought, he had avenged his brother far better than he knew. Even after all that had transpired between the two of them, she still loved him. His words had left little doubt that she was to be his prisoner as surely as if she had bars around her. What did it matter? Was not her heart already his prisoner—her traitorous heart? She would give him this baby. After all, the child did not even seem real to her. Julian had intimated that he did not care what she did after the child was born. She would live for the day when she could hand the baby over to him and then she would be free to return to America.

  The man Grimsley had engaged to perform the wedding ceremony was a Quaker minister. As the unfamiliar words of love, honor, and devotion were spoken, Lavender stood stiffly beside Julian, her hand resting in his firm grip. Lavender watched her and Julian's individual silhouettes dance like shadows on the wall, but when he pulled her tighter against him, their shadows became one solitary silhouette.

  Everyone had been sent away with the exception of Grimsley and Hendrick, and the maid Holly. The two men were present now as witnesses. A strange silence settled over the big house as the ceremony continued.

  Lavender's responses to the minister's questions were hardly above a whisper, while Julian's voice was firm and decisive. Lavender managed to peep up at Julian, and he bestowed a brief glance on her. Her hand trembled as he placed a ring on her finger that was so large it almost slipped off. A quick inspection showed her that it bore a crest, and from th
e size of it, she knew it was Julian's own signet ring.

  Lavender realized the ritual was over when Julian placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Was that all there was to it? Was she really his wife? She did not feel like a wife.

  The minister beamed a smile on her. "May I be the first to congratulate you, Mr. and Mrs. Westfield."

  Since the man had called her Mrs. Westfield, Lavender realized that he was unaware that Julian was a duke. She nodded politely, and waited for Julian to take control of the situation. Julian suddenly smiled, and why shouldn't he, Lavender thought angrily, he had achieved what he had set out to do.

  "Thank you Reverend Cresswell," Julian said, shaking the man's hand. The good reverend would never know he had just made Lavender a duchess. She was in a daze when Colonel Grimsley and Hendrick offered their congratulations.

  "Grimsley," Julian called to the colonel, who was obviously only too eager to do the duke's bidding. "I want you to make sure the marriage documents are in order, do you understand me? I want to be certain everything is legal so there will never be any question as to the legitimacy of this marriage."

  Reverend Cresswell looked astonished as he was urged to sign the marriage certificate. Immediately on affixing his signature to the document, he was given money and ushered to the door where he was bid a firm good night by Hendrick.

  Lavender was staring down at the oversized ring that circled her finger like a shackle. Julian raised her hand and held it to the light. "I apologize that there was not time to acquire a more appropriate wedding ring. I will see that you have one that will be the envy of every woman in England."

  Lavender tossed her golden hair in a show of defiance. Removing the ring from her finger, she thrust it at him. "Neither am I interested in being the envy of your puny Englishwomen, nor do I need a ring to remind me of this night. I only wish I could forget."

  Julian's jaw clamped tightly together. "You are a duchess now, Lavender, you will henceforth conduct yourself accordingly. Have you so quickly forgotten the bargain we made?" Julian watched as Colonel Grimsley and Hendrick unobtrusively left the room. "I am talking about the bargain we struck where you would act the devoted wife when others are present."