“I want you to say one more thing.”
She tilted her head. “What?”
“Tell me you’ll be with me.” He was so close she could feel his breath on her forehead. “I want you in my bed.”
Mary ducked under his arm and dashed away from him. “No! Absolutely not!”
Andrew blinked at least a dozen times as he watched her flee. “What? Why? Are you serious?” If she was as resolute as she sounded, it would be the first time he had ever been rejected. Surely he wasn’t going to get rejected by a willowy, mousy maid with a funny nose, who always wore her hair in the tightest buns, and showed no signs of ever having a man in her life? The thought was just… preposterous!
“No, I would never share your bed with you, Mr. Lamb,” she scolded him over her shoulder. It didn’t seem right to call him a “mister” when he hadn’t conducted himself like a gentleman. “The fact that you proposed such a thing is unforgivable!”
“Unforgivable… why?” He spoke to himself, because she was no longer around to hear him. Women had thrown themselves at him all his life. Why did the one woman he wanted not want him?
And why did he want her, Andrew wondered? There was nothing special about her appearance, and she was obviously a spinster. Did he feel sorry for her? Was he intrigued by the challenge in her voice—or the fire in her eyes? Whatever the case, he would have to put more effort into his seduction.
And he would relish every second.
Chapter Twenty One
Leona sat in front of the looking glass as she combed her hair, studying herself closely with each brushstroke. Was it her imagination, or did she have new wrinkles under her eyes? She wondered if they were a symbol of lost youth, which was gone the moment she fell into Lord Wintergreen’s bed. Or maybe it was her innocence she lost? Either way, it had been a long time since she had been with him—nearly three months. If she didn’t hurry, her chances of convincing Tristan she was having his baby would be slim to none. He didn’t seem like the type of man who would be easily fooled.
She liked Tristan. Because she liked him, she hated the idea of fooling him. “Maybe that’s why I hesitate so much,” she said aloud, frowning at her reflection.
Well, she couldn’t hesitate anymore. Leona resolved herself to do one of two things: finish what her father started, or tell her husband the truth.
Her legs were shaking as she rose to her feet; her hands were trembling as she reached for the door. A few minutes later, when she was standing in front of his room, she almost lost her courage. That she managed to knock on his door was nothing short of a miracle.
He came to greet her, looking weary and disheveled. His shirt was open in the front, leaving little of his chest to the imagination. What would it be like to be in his arms, she wondered?
“Can I come in?”
“Oh. of course!” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let her in. “I’m surprised to see you so late.”
“Yes... I…” Leona walked in with slumped shoulders, like she was shrinking beneath his gaze. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No. I was reading.”
“Oh.”
Leona sat on the edge of his bed. A few seconds later, she hopped to her feet again and started pacing around the room.
“You look troubled,” Tristan observed. “Don’t tell me… it isn’t Andrew again, is it?”
“Oh… no! Of course not!” she laughed. “By the way, did he tell you why he returned so soon? Not that I’m complaining.”
“I have no idea why his stay in London was so brief, but I plan to find out,” Tristan said. “More importantly, I plan to find out why you’re walking around my room like you’re chasing a chicken. Something tells me you didn’t come here for exercise.”
“No, not exactly. Um…” Leona tugged the sleeves of her nightgown. She thought about trying a more direct approach, such as stripping off her clothes. She wasn’t sure what method would make her more uncomfortable. “I care for you, Tristan.”
“I care for you, too,” he answered with a smile. His face showed no indication of knowing what his wife wanted. Was he really that dense?
“On the night of our wedding, do you remember what you said to me?” Leona said. “We didn’t consummate the marriage because you wanted me to care for you. Well… I’m telling you… now I do.”
Tristan stood in the middle of the room, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She nodded.
“Then come here.”
Her steps were uncertain as she made her way to Tristan. She was like a toddler, unsteady on her feet.
“Are you sure?” She answered his question with another nod. That gesture of affirmation was enough for Tristan, who put his hands on her shoulders. Very slowly, he started to ease the nightgown off her body, trailing kisses along her bare shoulders as he exposed her skin.
Leona closed her eyes and held her breath. It felt wonderful to have his lips on her body, but at the same time, she felt horrible. She didn’t know whether to hate herself or feel elated. A part of her wanted to giggle. The fact that Tristan wanted to be with her—and ravenously, at that—made her giddy.
He pushed the nightgown further down her arms, and his lips danced across her neck… across her collarbone.
“Kiss me,” Leona whispered, pointing to her lips.
Tristan, who had been crouching to kiss her collar, lifted his head to kiss her lips. He kissed her deeply and passionately. It was a much different kiss than the one they shared after the picnic. When he explored her mouth with his tongue, her knees were in danger in crumbling beneath her.
He brought his lips away from hers, kissing her forehead as he left. He laid both hands on the top of her head, gently stroking her hair. “I want you to know how much I care for you, Leona. I know we haven’t known each other long, but you mean the world to me.”
“Mmm.” She was fighting off tears again. She couldn’t let him see how upset she was! Not this time!
“You mean everything to me,” he whispered, caressing her, sifting his fingers through her silken hair. “I would do anything for you. Your presence is a light in this dreary life of mine.”
“Tristan…”
He reached for her nightgown again. He started to pull it further down, was on the verge of releasing her breasts from their confines, when Leona laid her hand on top of his and pushed it away.
“You’re… stopping me?” Tristan swallowed hard. His mind was in such a frenzied state. Did she have any idea how difficult it was for him to resist the urge to lift her off her feet, throw her on the bed, and ravish her a dozen times? To stop him was almost cruel.
“I can’t…” Leona’s voice was cracking as she spoke. “I can’t… do it.”
Tristan summoned all the strength in his body to force his lips into a smile. He pulled up her nightgown, covering her shoulders. “We don’t have to do it, Leona. I’d wait for you forever… however long that is.”
“Tristan…” Leona wanted to sob. She wanted to scream at the heavens and ask why she was being punished. Why did she have to care for him so much? Why did she have to disappoint him?
“Leona.” Tristan took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Please don’t be upset. Even if you never want to be with me, I don’t care. Just having you here is enough.”
“Please!” she squealed. “Please stop saying such nice things! You’re only making this more difficult!”
Tristan raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Leona, what’s wrong? What has you on the verge of tears? If you think you’ve disappointed me, I--”
“No! But I will disappoint you!” she yelled. Pulling her hand away from him, Leona ran to his bed and buried her face in his blankets. “You’ll hate me.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Tristan asked, sitting beside her on the bed. “You don't need to be intimate with me at all, if you don't want to. I like having you as a companion. That’s enough for me.”
“That’s not what I want!” Leona bellowed into his blankets. “You… you don’t understand! You know nothing about me!” Timidly, she raised her head and met his gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you, Tristan. There’s a confession I need to make. I’m going to tell you… everything.” As she spoke, two tears fell simultaneously from each eye. She still didn’t know what it felt like to have a broken heart, because hers felt crushed, far worse than broken. Just the thought of telling him everything was enough to decimate her spirit. Would she ever be the same again? Would he ever look at her again? Would he treat her like her father treated her? Would her life ever be livable again?
Tristan was afraid to speak. The fear in Leona’s eyes made him reluctant to press her.
Leona looked down at her hand. She could still feel his lips on her skin, and it felt so nice. She doubted she would ever feel that way again. “Tristan, I…” She needed to do it. Tristan deserved to know the truth. “Before you met me, I… was with another man.”
“Oh.” Tristan’s own heart felt like it was punched. “There’s someone else. You’re in love with someone else.”
“No… please don’t make assumptions. I don’t love him. I was… foolish. I was foolish and stupid and silly, I learned my lesson, and I’m going to pay for it.”
Tristan’s jaw was twitching uncontrollably, but he managed to ask, “What do you mean?”
“His name was Lord Wintergreen, and I let him take advantage of me. He took me back to his house, and I let him have his way with me.”
Tristan closed his eyes and tried his best to soak it all in. He didn’t know what else to say. He just listened.
“A little while later, Lord Wintergreen left London for good. But… he left me with something else.” Leona swiped her cheeks, which were wet with tears. Every time she opened her mouth, tears were falling softly. “I’m carrying his baby.”
Tristan didn’t move. He didn’t even appear to be breathing.
“My father arranged a quick marriage to you, because he thought I could make you believe the baby was yours. It was my father’s plan, but… I guess I’m just as guilty as he is. Well…I suppose the bulk of the guilt lies with me, if you think about it.”
Tristan said, a bit coldly, “That explains a lot, actually.”
“I intended to go along with my father’s plan, even though I hated it,” Leona’s tears were falling harder now—and faster. “But I hated it even more after I had a chance to know what a good man you are, Tristan. I know you can’t forgive me, but… I hope you realize how hard it is to tell you the truth, and respect me for it.”
Tristan raked a hand across his face, rubbing his eyes. Was he crying? She couldn’t tell.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I know you’ll hate me for the rest of your life, but at least I won’t hate myself for lying to you.”
Tristan mumbled something, but Leona couldn’t make it out. Whatever he was trying to say, she knew it couldn’t be good.
“I can leave Randall Hall, if you want me to. I’ll understand if you don’t want me to be here anymore. Now that you know everything there is to know about me, I’m sure it would be impossible to think of me as your wife,” Leona said calmly, trying hard to collect herself. “I can go back to my father. I don’t know what he’d do, but--”
“Don’t be silly.” Tristan’s voice, deep and angry, interrupted her. “If you think for one second I’d let you go back to that man, you don’t know me at all.”
“I really do care about you, Tristan. I would apologize to you a thousand times if I thought it would help!”
Tristan, acting like he didn’t hear those last words, rose from the bed and said, “I need time to think about everything you’ve told me.”
“You don’t hate me?”
“No, I don’t. But I feel like I’d rather be alone right now, if you don’t mind.”
Leona slid from the bed and forced her legs to carry her to the other end of the room. There were so many things she still wanted to say to him, but she wondered if they’d do more harm than good. She opened up the door and ran from Tristan’s room, not knowing when, or if, she would ever see him again. She wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see her face again, or if he was gone in the morning.
She hated herself for hurting the only man she ever loved.
Chapter Twenty Two
“But it’s true, Mary! I do love him!” Leona sobbed. Ever since her confession to Tristan the previous night, she just couldn’t stop crying.
Mary sat on the bed beside her mistress, stroking her hair, trying to give her some comfort. She admired Leona’s courage, but she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if Leona confessed something minor. She’d shared another man’s bed, was having another man’s child, and got married to Tristan with the intent to trick him. It was an awful lot to confess, and it would be an awful lot to forgive.
“It’s not the sort of love I dreamed about as a child,” Leona went on, wiping her soggy nose. “It’s not the sort of love that leaves you completely infatuated. It’s stronger than that. I have such a deep respect and admiration for him. I… I feel comforted by his face.”
Mary took Leona’s handkerchief, which was already wet with tears, and handed her another one.
“But how could I ever hope to earn his respect after everything I’ve done? He’ll never respect me. How could he? I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me for the rest of his life!”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Miss.”
“Of course he hates me! He would have to be a saint to forgive me! I lied to him, Mary! I withheld unforgivable secrets!” Leona sobbed. “Tricking him was bad enough… I feel like I’ve traded one devastation for another. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. My life is ruined! Everything is horrible! Ohhhhhh!” She smashed her head against her pillow and bellowed deeply.
Mary rubbed Leona’s shoulder. What else could she do?
“I should just dive out the window and save him the misery of having a harlot for a wife!”
“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Mary quietly protested.
“All I can do is lie in here and cry and wallow in self-pity. This time, you can’t blame me for being sad! No woman should ever have to experience what it feels like to be hated by the man she loves. How will I ever look at his face again? How can I look at him and not feel overcome with shame?”
“The viscount seems like a kind man, my lady, and I can see he cares about you very much. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to feel that way about yourself.”
“Maybe he cared about me… but I’m sure any feelings he might have had for me are destroyed.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
Slowly, Leona peeled her face away from her pillow. For some reason, Mary’s excessive optimism wasn’t making her feel any better today. If anything, it made her feel worse. Any encouragement would only give Leona a false sense of a security—and false hope. “Say what you will, Mary, but I am completely without hope.”
“No… you should never lose hope, my lady,” Mary disagreed. “Change happens every day. You never know what could happen.”
* * *
“There’s no hope,” said Andrew. “None at all.”
If it was possible to groan in silence, Tristan was doing it. He had been listening to Andrew talk about his failure to impress Mary for nearly an hour. Tristan tried to lend an ear, but everything Leona said to him was weighing heavily on his mind. He hadn’t breathed a word of Leona’s confession to Andrew, and he didn’t intend to. He wasn’t the sort of man to let others in on his private affairs.
Andrew, on the other hand—
“I think she might despise me,” Andrew continued. “It’s all because I was spouting off something that was meant for your ears only. What exactly did I say? That she was homely or some such nonsense? Well, she’s not homely.”
“Do you really want my advice, Andrew?”
His friend
nodded.
“You want my advice on how to seduce my wife’s maid?”
He nodded again.
“My advice is don’t. I won’t encourage you to seduce and deceive some poor girl.”
“But… I’m not trying to seduce and deceive her.”
Tristan closed the book he’d been reading—or rather, had been attempting to read. Ever since Andrew came knocking on his door, he couldn’t remember a single word he read. “If you’re not seducing her or deceiving her, what do you call it? You don’t really like her… and it’s not like you would ever consider marrying her.”
“Marry a maid? Don’t be ridiculous! First of all, my father would kill me…”
“Then you’re deceiving her, plain and simple,” Tristan said. “If you get her to submit to you, what else is left for her? Would you make her your mistress? If you bedded her, I’m sure you’d tire of her the next day. Your challenge would be over.”
“That’s a very mean thing to say!”
“But I know you too well, Andrew. I know what sort of man you are when it comes to women,” Tristan said. “I’m not trying to insult you. You know you’re like a brother to me… but I wish you’d use some discretion before you set out to break the hearts of unsuspecting females.” Tristan ran a finger along the binding of his book, sighing. He couldn’t believe he was talking to Andrew about Andrew’s romantic exploits, when Tristan’s own life was far more turbulent at the moment.
“Well… you’re very mistaken in this case, Randall. I really do care for her!” Andrew professed. “You don’t believe me?”
The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) Page 14
