It was a cold and gusty May afternoon. Lavender stood before the window, feeling like a prisoner. She stared out on the garden, while the tension mounted inside her. What was keeping Nicodemus? Why had he not come back? Suppose something had happened to him? She had been frantically counting the days and weeks until he returned.
Hearing the door open, she turned around, expecting to see Mrs. Forsythe, but, instead, her eyes locked with Julian's.
He stared at her as the golden halo of sunlight bathed her in its soft glow. Her face was lovely, her golden hair was spilling across her breasts. She was dressed in a blue silk nightgown and robe. Her blue eyes were seeking and somehow frightened. "I did not hear you knock," she said, spinning around and glancing back out the window.
He moved to stand beside her. "I did not knock, guessing you would only send me away if I did."
His shoulder brushed against her and she moved away. "Am I to be given no privacy?"
"I have left you alone for over a month. Would you not agree that is allowing you your privacy?"
She could feel the heat from his body, and as always his nearness disturbed her peace of mind. Looking up at him, she allowed her anger to sparkle in the depths of her eyes. "I hope you have come to tell me that I can leave England."
He gripped her by the shoulders. "What if I have decided to keep you?"
She shook her head. "We made a bargain. I have kept mine, now it's up to you to keep yours."
His eyes were gentle as they ran over her face. "What if I cannot bear to let you go?"
She shrugged his hands away. "Make your jests if you like, but allow me to leave." Desperation laced her words. "I am smothering here."
He skillfully turned the conservation. "You have not asked me about the baby. As a matter of fact, I am told you have not even asked to see the baby."
She tossed her head and placed her hands on her hips. "And that bothers you, does it not? You expected to take my baby away from me and have me groveling at your feet, begging to be allowed to see him. Well, it did not happen, Julian, and it never will. I will never ask you for anything."
He reached out, took her arm, and jerked her against him. "What a proud woman you are, Lavender. I admit I have been sorely tested while trying to break you, but it seems I have failed."
"Why should you want to, Julian? Is there something in you that likes to punish me?"
He ran his knuckles softly along her delicate jawline. "I am not sure. Perhaps in hurting you, I am really hurting myself. Can you understand that?"
She shook her head. "No, Julian, I do not understand that. I know about your grief for your brother, but I do not know how you can think that hurting me will solve anything. My father was killed by an Englishman, but I have not held you responsible for his death. I do not want to see you suffer for what someone else did."
He placed his hands on either side of her face and looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you admit you have suffered for my brother's death?"
Her eyes were clear and sparkling with honesty. "I admit you have torn my heart out."
He drew in a ragged breath, feeling as if his own heart had just been torn out. "Perhaps if you ask it of me, I will call our debt even."
"I told you I would never ask you for anything. But I will hold you to your promise to let me go."
His eyelids covered his eyes. "Do you expect Nicodemus to come back and rescue you? 1 can assure you that will not happen. He may return from wherever he has gone, but I have given instructions that he is not to be allowed to see you."
Her lips trembled. "Why are you doing this to me?"
He surprised her when he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his body. "You are like a fever in my brain. You cannot imagine the battle I wage every day, just to stay away from you. You have bewitched me, and I cannot let you go until I have purged you from my mind."
She was startled by the admission that seemed to have been torn from his lips. "Yes, I remember," she said in a trembling voice. "You rule with your head and not your heart. Perhaps therein lies your trouble. Pity the mighty Duke of Mannington is not in control of his own life."
His face was a mask of fury as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. "I will show you that I have control over you," he said in a harsh whisper. "1 can most certainly control your body."
She tried to move off the bed, but he moved forward entrapping her in his arms. "Now who is in control?" he asked. "Surely not you." His hand moved down to her waist. Untying the belt of her robe, he pushed the material aside, baring her breasts. He saw desire burning in her eyes and felt an answering desire in his body. "Perhaps, after all, Lavender, you are in control."
"Let me go," she said. "I don't want you to touch me."
"Don't you?" He bent his head, and his lips lightly touched the rosy tip of her breasts, first one, and then the other. He felt her body tense when his hand slid down her stomach, and he heard her intake of breath. Looking into her eyes, he saw the battle-taking place there. She wanted to tell him to leave her alone, but her body reacted strongly to his caresses. "I think you want very much for me to touch you, Lavender."
She moistened dry lips. "I said I would never ask you for anything, but I am asking now. Please do not do this, Julian. Leave me at least some shred of self-respect."
His mouth moved across her face. "Why, Lavender?" he breathed in her ear. "You have left me none. I would come begging at your feet if it was the only way I could have you."
She gazed into dark eyes that were burning with a slow passion. "No, Julian . . . no," she whispered, knowing she could not resist him.
The fury of desire was upon them both as he stripped her clothing away, one article at a time. Lavender did not know how it was accomplished, but soon his naked body was pressed against her soft curves, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Everywhere he touched, she responded with a sigh.
Lavender could feel the pounding of his heart against her breasts. As if her hands had no will of their own, her fingers laced through his ebony hair. Her movement was sensuous as she silently urged him to take her body. Wild primitive feelings took possession of her when Julian took her body and made it his own. He dominated her mind, bringing her pleasure, and she trembled with fulfillment.
Lavender rolled over, pulling her robe about her nakedness. Julian had sat up with his back to her, making it impossible for her to see the expression on his face. Like her, did his heart beat so fast that he could scarcely breath? she wondered. Did he yearn for an admission from her that it was good between the two of them, as she did?
Julian rolled slowly to his feet and pulled his britches on. Sliding his arms into his ruffled shirt, he pushed the tail of the shirt into his britches. He buttoned the shirt up the front before he spoke. "1 never intended for this to happen, Lavender." His eyes were almost pleading.
She realized she would get no confession of undying love from Julian. "It was of no importance, Julian. But it is the last time I shall ever allow you to touch me." Her eyes were defiant, her chin set in a stubborn line.
He flicked her a quick look before picking up his jacket and draping it across his shoulders. "Do you think I could not bring you around if I wanted to, Lavender? I know all the things that you like." He turned to the door. "However, you will not have to endure my presence for much longer. I am taking the baby to the London house in three days' time. He is old enough to be christened."
She scrambled to her knees, hoping she had misunderstood him. "Do you mean that you came here to tell me that you are taking my baby away?"
He watched her face a moment. "If you ask it of me, I may allow you to come with us."
"No, never."
"What a proud woman you are, Lavender. I knew precisely what your answer would be, even though I know you want to be with your baby." A smile curved his lips. "Never mind. I got much more than I came here for."
She picked up a pillow and propelled it across the room, missing him by inches
when he ducked. "I hate you, Julian! You are an insufferable beast."
He bowed to her. "I can see where you might think so. Until later, Lavender," he said, sweeping out of the room.
She stared at the door he had just left through, feeling defeated. Hot tears scalded her eyes. When would the hurting stop? she wondered.
One thing was certain, if she was ever going to see her baby, it would have to be before Julian took him to London. She wished that Nicodemus would come. She knew that after today the only way she would ever get away from Julian was to escape.
As Lavender restlessly paced the floor, there was a knock on the door. Thinking it might be Julian returning, she composed herself and jerked the door open. When she saw it was Mrs. Forsythe, she relaxed.
The housekeeper came into the room, glancing nervously over her shoulder. After she handed Lavender a box, she closed the door. "Your man Nicodemus said to give you. this. He also said to tell you he would be waiting for you in the greenhouse tonight."
Lavender felt drained of emotion. "How did he get in touch with you?"
Even though there was no one in the room, the housekeeper whispered. "He sent word by Muldoon that he wanted to see me in the greenhouse. It seems His Grace left word that Nicodemus was not to be allowed access to you."
"Does my husband know that Nicodemus is here?"
"No, he just left the house, and will not be back until tomorrow morning." Mrs. Forsythe moved closer to Lavender. "1 also want to tell you that Nanny is ill, and 1 am supposed to sit with the baby tonight while the nurse goes into the village to see about her sick mother."
Lavender felt her head reeling. She and Nicodemus would have to leave tonight. She was grateful that she would get to see her baby before she left. "Thank you, Mrs. Forsythe. 1 will never forget your kindness."
"It is surely my pleasure to help you, Your Grace. I want to warn you that Muldoon will come to you tonight to lead you to the nursery. He is the only one I could trust."
The housekeeper moved to the door and quietly left. Lavender opened the box and found it contained everything she would need to change her appearance to resemble a young lad. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the white powdered wig, knowing it was the most vital part of her disguise. She glanced at the mantel clock. It would be hours yet before she could see her baby.
The house was quiet as Lavender stepped out of her bedchamber to join Muldoon in the hallway. The little man's eyes moved over her slender form that was outlined in the trousers she wore, but he made no comment. "I was told to mention to you that Nicodemus has a buggy waiting behind the greenhouse."
She handed him her fur-lined cape, the one thing that Julian gave her that she would not part with. "Will you take this to the buggy and tell Nicodemus I will join him as soon as I have seen the baby."
Muldoon's eyes showed no surprise. He merely nodded. "If you will follow me, Your Grace, I will take you to your baby now."
As they silently moved down corridors, through another wing of the house, Lavender knew it had to be difficult for Muldoon to go against his duke. He had been taught from birth to serve the Westfield family, and he must be feeling remorse for being a party to this deceit. She wished she had not been forced to ask him and Mrs. Forsythe for their help.
By the time Muldoon stopped before a door, Lavender was completely lost. "When you are ready to leave, Your Grace, you have but to go to the end of the hallway and out the back door. When you get to the garden, turn to your right and you will find the greenhouse."
Lavender held out her hand. "Thank you, Muldoon. You have been a true friend."
He touched her hand and then gave her a deep respectful bow and turned away, rushing down the hallway and out of sight.
Lavender moved silently to the nursery. Rapping softly on the door, she was admitted by Mrs. Forsythe. The housekeeper was startled by Lavender's appearance, but was too well trained to make mention of it.
Lavender's glance fell on the cherry-wood cradle. She moved quietly across the room and stood staring down at the tiny infant. An outpouring of love washed over her as she watched him sleep. His dark hair was neatly brushed over his forehead. His tiny fists were doubled up and he was sucking on one of them. She reached out and gently caressed his cheek, finding it silken to the touch.
"Why don't you go ahead and pick him up?" Mrs. Forsythe urged, trying not to cry at the tenderness she saw on the young duchess's face. "You have plenty of time before the nurse returns."
Lavender cast a grateful glance at the housekeeper. Gently she lifted the baby into her arms and held him against her cheek. "He is so small," she said, brushing a kiss against his forehead. "Is he really in good health, Mrs. Forsythe?"
"Yes," the housekeeper replied, coming up and making cooing sounds at the baby. "He is a little love, and I am told he hardly ever cries." Her voice became guarded. "Of course he needs his mother. . ."
Lavender knew the longer she lingered the more danger there would be for Mrs. Forsythe. She hugged her son to her for one last time, kissed his cheek, and reluctantly handed him to the housekeeper. "Remember your promise to look after him for me," Lavender reminded her, feeling as if her heart had been broken into a million pieces.
"You are going away, aren't you?" the housekeeper asked knowingly.
Lavender stared into her eyes. "It is better if you do now know, Mrs. Forsythe. Then if you are questioned, you will not feel obligated to speak out."
"My only obligation is to you, Your Grace. I am going to look after the young marquess until you return."
"Marquess?" Lavender questioned.
"Why, yes, that is his title."
Lavender glanced for the last time on the face of her beloved son. Brushing her lips across his cheek she turned away, knowing he would grow up without ever knowing his mother loved him. She was crying so hard she could hardly speak. "Good-bye, Mrs. Forsythe, and God bless you for being my friend."
Before the housekeeper could reply, the young duchess had hurried out of the room and disappeared into the darkened hall. The older woman glanced down at the baby with a worried frown on her face. Something was very wrong, but Mrs. Forsythe was determined that she would say nothing if she were questioned. Her heart went out to the young mother who had been forced to abandon her own son.
The hired carriage rattled over the road on its way to London, while the howling wind seeped through the cracks. Feeling cold and miserable, Lavender huddled beneath her cape, trying to keep warm. She was glad Nicodemus had made her a bed on the back seat and had insisted she lie down, because she was feeling weak and shaky. Something was wrong. She felt feverish and her head ached so fiercely she had to close her eyes against the agony. She gritted her teeth against the pains that shot through her body every time the driver hit a bump in the road, but she could not allow Nicodemus to find out she was ill or he might insist they return to Mannington.
Nicodemus's voice came to her out of the darkness. "It is still not too late to turn around, Lavender. More than likely you could make it to your room and no one would even know you had been away."
"No, I want to go home," she said, turning her face against the back of the seat. She felt every mile that separated her from Julian and her baby like an ache in the very depth of her soul.
Nicodemus kept a watchful eye on Lavender and he attributed her silence to sadness at being forced to leave her baby behind. He wondered about his sanity. How could he have let her talk him into taking her away when she should have remained with her baby.
On the coach went through the night, the pale lights from the carriage lamps lighting their way. They were putting as much distance as they could between them and Mannington, because Lavender feared Julian would come after her when he discovered she had gone.
Nicodemus heard Lavender's even breathing, and he knew she had finally fallen asleep. He laced his hand through the hand strap that was attached to the door, staring out into the night. They had a long journey ahead of them, and he certainly hoped
the duke did not catch up with them, because there was no knowing what form his anger would take. Nicodemus had a notion that the duke would not take kindly to him spiriting Lavender off in the dead of night.
Lavender sighed in her fevered sleep, remembering happier times when Julian held her in his arms, making her feel warm and alive.
"Hell and damnation!" Julian ranted. "Someone will answer for this." He walked over to Lavender's bedroom window and threw it wide. Peering out, he saw no sign that she had left from that direction. He turned back to Mrs. Forsythe. "Did no one see her leave?"
The housekeeper met the duke's piercing gaze. "Not to my knowledge, Your Grace." Her loyalties had always been to the duke, and she felt a prickle of guilt for her deception, but she would keep her promise to the young duchess.
"Someone had to see her leave. Go below and inquire if any of the servants saw her this evening, Forsythe. Then send Hendrick to me at once."
She bobbed a curtsy. "Yes, Your Grace."
Julian waited until he was alone, then he moved over to the wardrobe where Lavender's gowns still hung. Touching the delicate lace on one of the gowns, he felt a tightening in his chest. How could she have gone away without first consulting him? he wondered.
"Well, now you've done it, Julian," his grandmother said coming into the room. All the servants are talking how you forced the sweet duchess to sneak off into the night."
His eyes blazed. "She won't get away with this. I should have known I couldn't trust her."
Lavender Lies (Historical Romance) Page 36
