What a Lady Craves

by Ashlyn Macnamara

  Damn his aunt for putting such an idea into the girls’ heads. “Satya.” He extended his arm toward the door. “Out.”

  Thank the Lord, Satya took him at his word, and herded the others from the room.

  Damn his aunt and her meddling ways. Damn him for cocking things up so badly.

  His hand strayed across the coverlet, and his fingertips encountered the crinkle of foolscap. What the deuce? Had his aunt left a parting salvo in the form of that damnable special license? He lifted the scrap. Not a license, but a note. Once more, Patch’s foot seemed to collide with his splintered ribs, the aim directed at his heart. Shite. Henrietta had finally written her resignation.

  As soon as she could catch a mail coach, she was leaving for London.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Henrietta rolled the last of her shifts and placed it in her trunk beside her copy of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. All she had left now was to summon a footman or two to transport her things to the village, where she would await the mail coach. It was long past time she quit this place.

  A final glance about the chamber revealed she’d forgotten nothing. Everything was packed—all except the newspaper with Lindenhurst’s advertisement for a governess, oddly enough. Just as well. Henrietta did not wish to apply for a position so close to Lady Epperley’s manor. The temptation to look in on Helena and Francesca might be too great. She could not risk running into their father in the future.

  A tap sounded at her chamber door. How fortuitous. But upon turning, she found Satya standing in the entry instead of a footman.

  “I’ve already bid my farewells to the girls.” She kept her tone brisk. And thank goodness that task was over. Bad enough she had to fend off tears and their pleas for her to stay, Francesca also mentioned something about becoming their new mama.

  Only Lady Epperley could have put such an idea in their young heads. To the devil with the old witch and her meddling.

  Satya remained rigid, like a foot soldier standing at attention. “I bear a message from sahib.”

  She couldn’t prevent the scowl. “You may bear my goodbyes back to him. I’m afraid I need to be in the village before too much longer.”

  He advanced into the room. “He begs a final audience.”

  Audience. How ridiculous. As if she were the queen. “I’m afraid I’ve nothing further to say to him.”

  “But he has a great deal he wishes to say to you.” Somehow Satya’s expression softened until his dark eyes reminded her of a puppy’s. “Please, speak to him, memsahib. You are his destiny and he is yours.”

  She never had been able to resist the pleading of a baby animal, be it feline or canine, but this time she would stand firm. “If that is what you choose to believe, that is your affair. In my opinion, we are each other’s greatest mistake.”

  Or loving Alexander was hers, at any rate.

  “I tried to tell you before, but you did not understand.” She’d only heard Satya sound this adamant once before—two days ago in the sitting room when he’d insisted the family was safe with him. “He did not love his wife in India. He loved you the entire time.”

  “If that were true, he’d tell me himself.” But had he already told her in his way? His words about his wife echoed through her head.

  I didn’t care for her the way I care for you.

  No, caring was not the same as love. One emotion might lead to the other, but the gap between the two could be narrow or wide, and it might never change.

  “I have come to tell you myself.”

  Henrietta snapped her head toward the door. “Damnation.”

  Alexander clung to the jamb, his complexion pasty, his knuckles white. He looked exactly as he had that day she walked him back from the village after he’d keeled over in Tilly’s shop. And wasn’t it just like a man to rise from his sickbed too quickly? If she concentrated on that thought, she might ignore his statement—words that set her blood racing through her veins. Words that, absurdly, gave her hope.

  Her blasted brain seemed to be in conspiracy with her heart, since it insisted on reliving the events of the other evening when she’d entered his room. His lips, his hands, his body on her, in her, filling her. She’d have to live on those sensual memories for the rest of her life. He’d made the physical pleasurable, but too much history lay between them, both old and recent.

  “Sahib, you should not be out of bed.” Satya rushed to support Alexander, taking his arm, attempting to steer him back into the corridor. “You must return to your room.”

  “Your pardon, Satya. I don’t think I could possibly make it back without a rest.” Curse the man, he was nearly smiling. And what he was saying was all too true. “Help me to the bed.”

  Henrietta opened her mouth to protest, but closed it just as quickly. The only chair in the room sat against the far wall, and Alexander didn’t look fit to walk the distance. Better he swoon on her mattress, where he might stay, since she intended to vacate this bedchamber as soon as possible.

  He stretched out on the coverlet and closed his eyes for a moment, his skin ashen. A swath of cotton tied about his neck brought back memories of a far less pleasant sort—Alexander on the floor of the cave, insensible, hands bound, a knife at his throat.

  She could have lost him. You lost him years ago, she reminded herself forcibly. Best to dwell on that aspect of their relationship when she was leaving. Once in London, she would immerse herself in her duties as a nursemaid to her brother’s young son and ward. She need never see Alexander again.

  And why should that thought pain her so?

  His eyelids fluttered open, and he flicked his head at Satya. “Good man.”

  Before Henrietta could say a word against it, Satya bowed and departed. At least he left the door open. If a servant happened by, she’d summon a footman for her things.

  “How are you feeling?” she ventured.

  “Like an entire herd of elephants used me for a carpet, but I’ll mend.”

  Once more in her mind, she saw One-Eye slamming his foot into Alexander’s ribs. “I ought to leave you to it. I can wait in the foyer while the footmen carry down my trunk.”

  “Don’t go yet.”

  Ah, yes, his declaration. “I’ve very little time if I’m to catch the mail coach today. There won’t be another until next Thursday.”

  “I know.” He swallowed. “My aunt, in her magnitude, showed me the letter.”

  “I seem to recall you ordering me to let Lady Epperley know of my plans in a timely manner.”

  “Yes, one of my better moments.” Irony laced his tone.

  “One of your more bullheaded moments, you mean.”

  He smiled vaguely. “I suppose so.”

  “If you intend on continuing in that vein, I mean to tell you, you cannot talk me out of leaving. I’ve quite made up my mind.” And if she repeated that thought in a firm enough voice, perhaps she’d come to believe it herself. It was one thing to remind herself Alexander was a mistake. Faced with the man, such thoughts leaked from her head like water through a sieve.

  “I did not intend to talk you out of it.” He groped in his pocket and produced a familiar-looking red gemstone. “I find it a strange fortune that this isn’t Nilmani’s ruby.”

  “Satya considers that stone bad luck,” she pointed out. “Perhaps he is right.”

  Alexander cocked a brow. “He holds some odd beliefs.” Indeed, he did. Such as his insistence that she and Alexander belonged to each other. “But since this is not the genuine article, I do not feel honor-bound to restore it to Nilmani.”

  “In that case, you might call it repayment for your losses.”

  “This is not enough to replace lives.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I was referring to the loss of your ship. You can sell the ruby and start again. You can rebuild your family’s fortune.”

  He considered the gem. “I suppose I could at that, but I wouldn’t feel right about doing so. Whatever losses my family has suffered, they a
re purely monetary. They do not compare to the debt I owe you.”

  Something akin to a fist planted itself in her belly, and she expelled a current of air. Good heavens, he meant to give her the stone. Well, she wasn’t having it.

  “Me?” She drew herself up. “If you think to buy my cooperation with this, you do not know me at all.”

  “Cooperation? What the devil do you mean?”

  “Is this about our broken engagement?” She had to concentrate to avoid shouting. “Even if you’ve returned to England, even if you intend to settle here, I will not seek damages. You have my word on that, even if it is the word of a woman and thus inferior. I will not accept anything from you.”

  He shifted in the bed, and she was sure he’d have pushed himself upright had he not been injured. “That is not what I mean at all.” His tone hardened. “You had a position here, and because of our history together, because of my ill-considered pursuit, I have forced you out. I cannot repair what’s happened in the past, but I can set you on a path to a better future.”

  “I can make my own way, thank you very much.” Even if it did mean returning to her family and starting over. She’d be better off. Wouldn’t she?

  “I would still make reparations.” He cleared his throat.

  As reluctant as she was to face him, the rumble commanded her complete attention. She met his gray gaze and saw nothing but sincerity. “I sacrificed you unfairly, and that was the biggest mistake I ever made. I recognize that. Now I’m in a position to sacrifice for you.”

  “But your family. Your girls … Whatever else lies between us, I cannot take this from them when you’ve lost everything.”

  “When I’m healed I shall go up to London and see what my other ship was worth. The East India Company will owe me a little from that business. It will have to suffice. Please, can’t you see I’m trying to atone for my errors?” He glanced toward the ceiling. “I thought I might achieve that in renewing my offer to you, but fortune has offered me another way. Honor demands I try.”

  “Honor, always honor.” She glared at him, willing him to see. At least he now realized she would not marry him simply for honor’s sake. “And yet you claim honor led us to this point.”

  “I thought to preserve the honor of two friends.” Wincing, he plunged his fingers into his hair. “They would not have trusted anyone else with the secret. I was there, and I could help. I do not expect you to accept that as an excuse, but it is the fact of the situation. Nothing I ever said to you was a lie.”

  “You omitted things, and that was just as bad.”

  “I did. I cannot deny it. But at the same time, I understood what Marianne was requesting of me—what Harry would have wanted had he been alive to ask. Harry loved Marianne the way I love you.”

  The words pounded her straight in the gut and knocked the breath from her lungs. Bugger it. Bugger him. If only he’d declared his love before he’d gone to India. And then what? The knowledge would not have changed any of the hurt she’d experienced at his betrayal. If anything, the pain would have been multiplied.

  But what if the feelings are new? What if they’ve deepened? Damned annoying voice in her head. It was doing nothing but adding to the emotional turmoil seething inside her.

  “I would have done anything to preserve your reputation,” he continued, “had you been in the same spot. I felt bound to step in.”

  “And honor will ever bind you.” How much easier to ignore his declaration.

  “Yes, it will. But if I’ve realized anything in all this, it’s that one may face two choices and both of them involve losing one’s honor somewhere. I chose as best I could, given the circumstances. I know now that I chose wrong. All I could think about was sacrificing my happiness. I never stopped to consider I was sacrificing yours, as well.”

  The back of her throat stung, as her feelings welled. If he was expecting a reply, she couldn’t give it.

  “I’d beg your forgiveness,” he went on. “I’d even beg you to stay, but I do not deserve such. In fact, since my return, you’ve given me more than I could ever dream.”

  Her cheeks heated. Was he referring to their single night of passion? Yes, she’d given that night, given him something she’d never have back.

  “You have taken my daughters in hand and shown them such … love”—the word slipped shakily off his tongue—“without expecting anything in return.”

  This was about his girls? A vague sense of disappointment allowed her to find her voice. “They have also not deserved what life has handed them. To lose so much so young. Helena in particular. She’s lost the chance at both her parents raising her. The least I could do was open my heart to them.”

  “I thank you for that. Although my aunt, in her infinite wisdom, has seen fit to tell the girls that you would make an ideal mother to them.”

  “Yes, I’m aware.” Damned busybody. She’d be happily quit of Lady Epperley. At one time, she might have looked on her return to her family in the same light as Wellington retreating at Waterloo, but some situations were not to be borne. “You can’t be saying you agree.”

  “It happens I do. If things had worked out differently, if things had worked out the way they were meant to, you would have been those girls’ mother.”

  “Not those girls,” she pointed out too quickly, no matter how many times she’d had a similar thought.

  “The mother of my children, then.” Heavens, he said that with such hope, and yet a thread of despair wove through the syllables. “I’ve realized something else through all this. My feelings for you have never changed in eight years.”

  “You wanted me then, as you want me now.”

  “No.”

  He struggled again, enough that she went to him and helped him sit. He leaned into her embrace, and she breathed his exotic, spicy scent … for perhaps the last time.

  “No,” he repeated. “I’ve come to realize that I loved you from the start, and for eight years you’ve held a place in my heart. Nothing I’ve been through has dislodged you. You’ll still be there the day I die. In India, I cut you free when I shouldn’t have and to my everlasting regret. It’s worse now, in a way. I now realize what we might have been.”

  She closed her eyes on a spate of tears at the might-have-been. Lord help her, she knew now, as well. Damnation, but she wished she didn’t.

  He pressed the ruby into her palm and closed her fingers about it, squeezing slightly before letting go. “Take this and make your way in the world. And know you’ll never be out of my thoughts.”

  Never out of his thoughts. Oh, dear Lord, if only she hadn’t heard that. If only she hadn’t heard the rest of his confession. In fact, she should have sent him to blazes when he ventured into her chamber.

  To sacrifice his chance to start over so she could begin a new life. What was he thinking?

  She opened her fist and looked at the ruby. It nestled in the center of her palm, reflecting the sunlight filtering in from the window. Despite the flaw bisecting its center, the jewel’s facets threw red sparks onto the coverlet. Her skin glowed red through the gem. Doubtless a London jeweler would give her a handsome price, enough that she might live in some small way on the proceeds. True independence, at last.

  He’d robbed her of one life, yes, but now he was offering another.

  “I … I don’t know how to thank you.” She croaked the words through a tight throat.

  “I only hope …” He stopped, his words just as thick. He held her gaze, the spark in his eyes as intense as any light thrown by the gem in her hand. “Someday you’ll find this makes up for the wrong I did you.”

  Heaven help her, she could not look away. “Not someday. Now. I do understand.”

  “Then perhaps you’ll allow me one final kiss. As a goodbye.”

  Lord only knew, she ought to refuse, but the pure fire of emotion in his eyes would not be denied. He reached up, and the pads of his fingers grazed her cheek and neck in a caress whose heat lingered long after his touch e
ased away. She leaned closer, seeking more contact. More of him.

  Gently, as if she were made of nothing more than dust and shadow, he brushed his lips against hers, pulling away far too quickly. She followed, unsatisfied with such a shallow touch. After all he’d meant to her, she wanted to leave with something more to show for it. Her mouth clashed with his, and she relived for a few, all-too-brief moments the passion between them.

  Do you remember this?

  God help her, how could she ever forget? Not only did she remember, she also wasn’t ready to give it up. Not with the possibilities that still existed between them. Both of them stood on the verge of a new life—one they might even consider sharing. Abruptly, she pulled away.

  Alexander gasped for air, as if he’d just run a race. That fire still burned in his eyes.

  We go together.

  His words to her the night they made love echoed through her mind, fraught with potential. He’d referred to their mutual pleasure, but the utterance might connote so much more. A vision flashed before her eyes. She and Alexander walked along a rocky shore, hand in hand, while Francesca and Helena ran ahead of them, laughing. They might go through life together yet, a chance he’d offered since his unforeseen return.

  She could give him back the gem, and they could help each other start again. Together. As they’d once been separated, they no longer needed to be. All she had to do was stay.

  Next time.

  Yes, he’d said that, too. There could be a next time, and she held the power to decide that.

  I want you. I want this. Again and again.

  Blast it all, so did she.

  I’ll never stop wanting.

  Heaven help her, if he asked her to stay with him now, she didn’t think she’d resist the temptation. She was doomed to never resist him.

  “Henrietta …” He reached up and touched her again, the lightest of caresses on her cheek, trailing down to her neck. “Hang it all, say something.”