She went toward him, drawn to the flame of his love and passion, seeking his warmth, his love.
Chapter Eighteen
Adrian stepped back abruptly. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.
“But I only—”
He saw the love shining in her blue eyes, and realized she wanted to hold him close in a loving embrace, which added immeasurably to his pain, for he was not worthy of her respect, or her help, or her love. “Listen to me, Hester. I do not need your concern or your comfort I am what I have made of myself, and have learned to live with it. I will not ask any woman to share it as my wife. I chose my path, and will walk it—alone.”
“You do not have to be alone.”
He knew what she was offering, and the value of it, just as he knew he could never accept. “Yes, I do,” he said firmly, telling himself he was forever locking his heart against her. “I want to be.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, and it was not a question, but a statement of incontrovertible fact.
War raged between his heart and his mind, his hopes and his past, his desire and his fear. Between the damnation of his present and the salvation of the future Hester offered. Between the forgiving, healing love she was offering him and his own unworthiness.
She, alone of all the women he had ever met, she alone could give him peace and true happiness.
Who was proof against such an offer? He, world-weary, bitter, alone, convinced that he must reap what he had sown?
Yes, until now. This moment. This woman. This love that would make him whole again, and fill the emptiness in his life, as his love for her was filling the void in his lonely heart.
So he yielded.
He reached out for her, his deliverer, and drew her to him. With a sigh she came into his embrace, and when their bodies touched, their love became more. The flames of rapture spread through them both, and for Adrian they burned away the dross of years and made him pure again, like metal newly forged. “I love you,” he said softly, his need blatant in his desire-darkened eyes.
Hester responded to the wonder and heat of his yearning, giving herself up to the burning need that filled her, knowing he would make her complete.
He kissed her deeply, his touch melting away the last of her reserve. Being alone with him here was right; his embrace was necessary; his body against hers was perfect.
As he held her tightly, she was achingly aware that she wanted him to love her completely, as a man loves a woman. As a husband loves his wife, and whether they were husband and wife was not a consideration.
He broke the kiss, and while she caught her breath, a warm smile crossed his usually sardonic face. “You must go, Hester,” he said wistfully, “because if you don’t, I am going to pick you up and take you to my bed, and then all your notions of my goodness will be utterly shattered.”
Hester knew he was right She should leave before she was tempted to forget all the dictates of society that forbade making love outside of marriage. Nevertheless, she could not leave his arms at once. “I think I shall discover heaven in your arms, my lord,” she whispered, leaning against his heaving chest.
He groaned softly, then gently pushed her away. “I mean what I say, Hester,” he warned huskily. “You are far too tempting, and I am not nearly so praiseworthy as you seem to believe.”
“Neither am I,” she said with a smile.
“What’s this?” he cried softly, in mock dismay. “The saintly Lady Hester is really a wanton wench, after all?”
“Only with you, my lord.”
“Then there is but one way to ensure that this remains our secret.”
She gazed at him questioningly.
“You must be my wife.”
She opened her mouth to respond, when he suddenly frowned and put his finger upon her lips. “Let me say that in a less arrogant, presumptuous way—to prove that I am capable of changing.” He knelt on one knee and took her hand in his. “Please, Lady Hester, would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
Too delighted to speak, she could only nod.
Adrian rose and pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I don’t deserve you, and I don’t deserve such happiness—”
This time Hester put her finger on his lips. “Such happiness as I can give shall be yours. But you are right. I must go,” she murmured. She glanced around the room. “For now.”
He chuckled softly. “I shall say adieu, then.”.
She slowly went to the door, then turned on the threshold, her face bright with a smile. “I wonder what the duchess will say?” she said mischievously.
“Perhaps we should reveal nothing of our engagement for the present. Let me think of a way to persuade her to move to the Dower House first. I wouldn’t want her to blame you for ’turning her out,’ as she is sure to put it.”
“If you feel that best,” Hester said. “Now that I know you love me, nothing else seems at all important”. She slipped out as quietly as she had entered.
For several delightful minutes after she left, Adrian stood in his room and simply enjoyed the sensation of complete joy.
Until he began to really consider what the duchess, and other people, might say.
Elliot stepped out of the shadowed alcove where he had been hiding, and his bitter, malevolent glare moved from Hester’s bedroom door to Adrian’s; So, Adrian had had her. His Hester.
How else to account for Hester’s presence in Adrian’s room, the way her clothes were disheveled, the glow in her face as she left him? Truly, there wasn’t a virtuous woman in the whole country if Hester Pimblett was willing to bed a man before marriage.
And as for Adrian—he might have known better than to believe that Adrian was ignoring her because he didn’t consider her attractive enough. She lived in his house. That alone should have told him what would happen.
He should have guessed that Adrian was playing a very subtle game of seduction. No doubt he had gone to town so often only to inflame Hester’s desire. Or maybe when he came back, late at night, he had not gone directly to his bedroom.
And he dares to chastise me! Elliot thought angrily.
Probably Adrian had done it to spite him, too, because he knew Elliot wanted to marry her. Typical Adrian! Couldn’t let him enjoy anything. Couldn’t even let him have a virgin bride. A homely virgin bride.
Then another idea entered Elliot’s mind. If Adrian could have Hester without benefit of marriage, then so could he.
As he rode into town early in the morning after a sleepless night, the Duke of Barroughby had never been more hopelessly confused and uncertain and thrilled in his entire life.
One moment he was filled with triumphant hope to think that a woman of Hester’s intelligent discernment cared for him; the next he was filled with doubts, convinced he was completely unworthy of her. That she had no true idea of what he had done, or the mess he had made of his life. That she saw only his handsome face and vast wealth, and was blind to his despicable history. That he did not dare to tie such an honorable woman to a man like himself with the bonds of holy matrimony. That he should leave here and never see her again, and that perhaps the pain that would surely attend such an action would finally pay him back for the tremendous suffering he had caused.
Yet even now he knew he lacked the strength of purpose to make that sacrifice. Weak scoundrel that he was, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of living without her.
Then he remembered that she said she loved him and seemed to want him as much as he needed and wanted and loved her. Could their marriage be wrong under those circumstances? If marriage was what she wanted, was he being selfish by proposing it?
He also wondered what Elliot would make of this turn of events. Would he accept it, or would he go off in a rage, with possibly disastrous results?
Or was Hester right? Was it time to let Elliot bear the full weight of the consequences of his actions?
Desperate to have another opinion, Adrian had finally decided to do something else he had nev
er done before: he was going to talk about his worries with a friend, John Mapleton, who already knew something of the history of the duke’s family.
Adrian kept Drake at a gallop nearly the whole way into Barroughby, and only when he saw the pink tinge of the sky behind the surgeon’s house did it occur to him that it might be rather early in the day for him to be paying a call.
On the other hand, this way he might stand the best chance of finding Mapleton at home. Therefore, he tossed Drake’s reins over the bush nearest the surgery door and knocked briskly.
The door was opened by an unshaven Mapleton. “Adrian!” he said, obviously surprised at the early arrival of the noble visitor. “Are you hurt?”
“I am quite well. I think,” Adrian replied with a rueful grin.
Mapleton’s good manners asserted themselves, and he invited Adrian inside to his office, a small room cluttered with papers, instruments and books.
A maid came at a trot and stared at the Duke of Barroughby with frank curiosity. “May I take your hat and coat. Your Grace?” she asked softly, blushing furiously.
“No, I don’t intend to stay long,” he replied.
“You may go, Nancy.” The surgeon waited until the maid had left the room.
“Won’t you sit down, Adrian?”
“Yes, thank you, John.” Adrian removed his hat and ran his hand over his hair as he sat. He placed his hat on his knees. “I need to talk to you.”
Mapleton regarded him with a curiosity as frank as Nancy’s. “I’m happy to listen.”
Now that the time had come to speak, Adrian’s usual reticence on personal matters came to the fore. As he hesitated, Mapleton appeared to be the personification of patience, and so gave the duke no as sistance or reason to leave. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mistake,” Adrian said brusquely, rising.
For a man past the midpoint of his life, the surgeon could move with great alacrity. He was at the door before Adrian had opened it, and he leaned back against it, staring into the duke’s face. “Sit down and talk to me,” he ordered.
Adrian thought about pushing Mapleton out of the way, but he desperately needed another opinion, so he obeyed. “Something has happened, John,” he said gravely.
“Indeed?” The surgeon sat opposite Adrian, behind his desk.
“I’ve asked Lady Hester to be my wife.”
Mapleton’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t joke about something like this, would you, my lord?”
“No. I’m perfectly serious.”
“Then I am delighted for you! Delighted!” His smile turned to a worried frown not unlike Adrian’s. “Is there a problem I’m not aware of?”
“No.”
“Then why be so downcast? I think she would be a most excellent wife for you.”
“There is a problem, one of which you are aware, John,” Adrian said. “My reputation.”
“Which you don’t deserve.”
“Be that as it may, I have it. Isn’t it selfish of me to ask a woman of her spotless character to attach herself to me?”
“My lord, what did she say to this ’problem’?”
“She says people will forget.”
“I told you she was an intelligent woman. I quite agree with her.”
Adrian was not convinced, as the surgeon immediately realized. “The young lady has a great deal of sense, my lord, and if she feels no compunction about marrying you, I think you should accept it.” Mapleton chuckled gleefully. “My God, man, don’t you want to marry her?”
“With all my heart,” Adrian answered sincerely. “I just never believed…”
“That anyone would care to see beyond the mask of the Dark Duke?” Mapleton inquired.
“Something like that,” Adrian admitted ruefully.
“Well, she has.” He regarded Adrian pensively. “She’s not very pretty, though.”
This time it was Adrian’s turn to chuckle. “I have had my fill of so-called pretty women, and believe me when I say I would far rather have Hester’s loving face beside me on my pillow than any other.”
“Now I know you are in love!” Mapleton declared.
“Your diagnosis is quite correct, my friend.”
“Is that all that was bothering you?” Mapleton asked after a moment of companionable silence in which Adrian once again felt nothing but joy.
“I must confess, it isn’t. There’s the matter of Elliot.”
Mapleton’s expression became grim. “What’s the matter with him now?”
“He claims to want to marry Lady Hester.”
Mapleton’s reaction was a scoffing “Hah! Now that is truly an impossible notion.”
“He claims to be sincere.”
“And after all his deceptions and subterfuges, you believe him?”
“I don’t know whether to believe him or not. That is not the trouble, for Hester would never have considered him.”
Mapleton looked confused. “So, what is the trouble?”
“You know Elliot. Do you think he will tolerate what has happened?”
“If he cared about her, he might do something stupid. I can’t see him being heartbroken about Lady Hester, though,” the surgeon said, shaking his head. “In the first place, she’s not beautiful enough for his taste.”
“That’s what I thought But he was the one who made the suggestion, not me, and as you yourself have said, she will make a good wife.”
“Not for him. He’d break her heart in a month. He couldn’t be faithful if a thousand pounds depended on it. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped worrying about Elliot? He is of legal age, you know.”
“That’s what Hester says. I fear it is an old habit”.
“One that should be broken.”
Adrian smiled sardonically. “She thinks I’ve actually allowed him to indulge his whims.”
“I told you, she’s.a sensible woman.”
“Obviously, I am outvoted.” He sighed. “I was only trying to help.”
“I’m sure Lady Hester knows that as well as I.”
“But to abandon him—”
“How many women has he abandoned?”
“Too many, I know. Perhaps if I give him an allowance…” Adrian mused.
“He will say it is never enough,” Mapleton warned.
“You’re right”. Adrian made a decision. “I shall give him £10,000 and his horses. Then if he runs out of money he will know it is only because of his profligate ways.”
“And when he does, and comes begging for more, what will you do?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Adrian replied softly. “I cannot let him die in the gutter, can I?”
“Well, let us not borrow trouble,” the surgeon said, rising. “Let us hope for the best. And now, what about breakfast?”
Adrian smiled at his friend. “I was in such a hurry to talk to you, I couldn’t wait for any at home. I’m famished, and it will be good for Drake to have a rest, but then I must hurry back.”
“Fine, fine,” Mapleton said. “I hope you like oatmeal.”
“Have you been talking with Jenkins?” Adrian asked, his brows furrowed with suspicion as he stood.
“I always have oatmeal,” the surgeon said, patting his rotund belly. “Very filling.”
“Since you’ve eased my mind, I’ll allow you to feed me whatever you like.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hester hurried downstairs as soon as she thought breakfast might be ready. She had not slept at all, but felt bright and happy nonetheless, because Adrian Fitzwalter loved her, and she was going to be his wife.
Perhaps, she hoped, he would be in the small dining room, as eager to see her as she was to meet him.
Maybe they would even be alone a little while.
Not alone, she amended with genuine regret, for the servants would be going in and out of the room.
That was a disappointing thought, but not nearly so disappointing and dismaying as the realization that Lord Elliot was already in the dining room, and the duke was n
owhere to be seen. “Good morning, Lord Elliot,” she said coolly.
Lord Elliot, who looked as if he hadn’t slept in days or had imbibed too much wine, gave her such a slyly speculative look that Hester feared he knew she had seen him with Miss Smith in the garden. “Good morning, my dear,” he said, strolling toward her and taking her hand. His thumb stroked her palm as he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss far too long there. “I see late hours don’t diminish your beauty. Lady Hester.”
Nonplussed by his expression and his attention, she drew her hand back sharply.
“A little cranky, are we?” he noted, smiling sarcastically. “That’s to be expected, after all your hard work.”
“I am very tired, my lord,” Hester lied, deciding the best thing to do would be to pretend that nothing at all was different this morning. If she could.
She went to the sideboard and helped herself to some scrambled eggs, toast and kippers, and didn’t see Elliot lock the door and pocket the key. He strolled toward the sideboard and poured himself some coffee, and when she was busy setting down her plate on the table, he leaned over and locked the servants entrance to the room, taking that key, too.
“Have you eaten, my lord?” Hester asked, realizing that he was still standing.
“I am very hungry,” he said. He set down his coffee and looked at her. “Very hungry.”
Hester didn’t like his innuendo. “Eat, then, my lord,” she replied frostily.
“Oh, I intend to.” He sauntered around the table, coming to stand behind her. “Eventually.”
Hester twisted her head to gaze up at him. “The kippers are excellent”
“Kippers are not quite what I had in mind.”
“Oh.” Hester turned her attention to her own plate, and tried not to think of him hovering behind.
She jumped when he put his hand on her shoulder. “I like you, Hester,” he murmured, bending toward her so that his words sounded low and intimate in her ear.
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