A Necessary Husband

by Debra Mullins

  Keeping her head up high cost her the full measure of her control—a control that almost faltered as his soft chuckle followed after her.

  * * *

  Garrett moved through the steps of the minuet by rote, his mind on the woman he had held in his arms only minutes before.

  Lady Penelope was chattering on about something, her perfect lips moving. As he looked down into her face, he wished that her mouth was wider, that she was taller, that her hair was darker and curlier.

  He wanted brown eyes, not blue. And a tall, slender body, not this petite, curvaceous one. He wanted a woman who would look at him with honest emotion in her eyes, not this expression of polite admiration.

  He wanted Lucinda.

  He smiled and nodded as Lady Penelope continued her stream of polite small talk, and searched the ballroom for Lucinda.

  She would no doubt avoid him for the rest of the night. What they had almost done had shocked her—hell, it had shocked even him. He hadn't expected passion to flare so fast and so hot.

  A few more moments, and he would have been inside her.

  Still, his only regret was that he hadn't had time to complete the act. He wanted nothing more than to have Lucinda beneath him again, to feel her body pulsing around him in climax as she made those little keening noises in the back of her throat.

  He really, really liked those little noises.

  He moved through the dance, smiled at Lady Penelope again, then scanned the ballroom. Where was she?

  He saw her then, coming in from the terrace. The relief he felt turned swiftly to concern as he noted her pale face and wide eyes.

  Something had upset her.

  Was she still distressed by what had happened between them?

  Then someone else stepped in from the terrace: the blond man Lucinda had been speaking with at the ball the other night, her brother-in-law. As he watched, the man gave her a nasty little smile. Lucinda lifted her chin and turned away, her face a pale mask of indifference.

  And her brother-in-law watched her rear end as she walked away, his eyes hungry.

  What the hell was going on between these two?

  Garrett almost stopped in the middle of the dance floor, and his slowing down caused Lady Penelope to step on his toes.

  "I'm so sorry, my lord!" she cried, face flushing red with mortification.

  "It was my fault," he said, watching as Lucinda made her way to Lady Agatha and

  Knightsbridge, who stood with Meg.

  "No, it was me. I... oh, I'm so clumsy!"

  The music ended. Lady Penelope gave him a hasty curtsy, then hurried away from him. He frowned after her. Had those been tears in her eyes?

  Blasted women. Who could understand them?

  He started toward Lucinda, but before he could reach her she darted off, heading for one of the little retiring rooms. He hesitated. He knew what would happen if he followed her into that isolated little room. The same thing that had almost happened a little while ago.

  Follow her, his body urged.

  He tamped down on his unsated desire and tried to think with his brain. Did Lucinda really need him charging after her when she was clearly upset? But he wanted to comfort her, which surprised him. He had never felt such a thing for anyone but family before. Obviously, Lucinda was starting to matter to him. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

  As he stood there debating with himself, he saw Lucinda barrel into an older gentleman in her dash toward the sitting room. She stopped, flushed with embarrassment. He could see her fumbling to utter an apology, and then she looked up, and her expression lightened.

  She knew this fellow.

  The man said something to her, and suddenly, her face crumpled. She folded in on herself, and her acquaintance quickly moved to herd her behind an ornate sculpture for a moment of privacy. His large body blocked her from the view of the dancers.

  Garrett could only stare. He had never seen Lucinda break down. Ever. Of all the stiff-lipped British he had met, Lucinda had seemed the most emotionally controlled of all of them.

  Now she looked like a woman who had reached the end of her rope.

  He started across the ballroom. If that old man had hurt Lucinda, there would be hell to pay.

  * * *

  "There now, my girl," Sir James Whigby said, fishing a handkerchief from the pocket of his plain black evening coat. "Surely it's not as bad as all that."

  Mortified, Lucinda could do nothing more than take the snowy piece of linen from his hand and dab at her teary eyes. No doubt she looked a fright with a red nose and red-rimmed eyes. Everyone would know in an instant that Lucinda Northcott Devering had lost her famous composure.

  "You look fine," Sir James said with a smile, seeming to read her mind. "No one will know you have been crying, believe me."

  "I would like to believe that." She sniffed.

  "It's the truth, as sure as I'm standing here. I whisked you out of sight rather quickly, if I do say so myself. It's nice to know I can still move that fast."

  Lucinda gave a little laugh at his self-deprecating tone. "Oh, Sir James, you are not that old."

  "Over fifty, my girl, and I've seen a lot in my time." He smiled gently. "Would you care to indulge an old friend and tell me what brought this about?"

  Lucinda sniffed again and fought the urge to blurt out everything to this man who had been her father's friend. Though more than a decade had separated the two men in age, General George Northcott and Sir James Whigby had been fast friends. Sir James and his wife, Portia, had come to visit the Northcotts many times as Lucinda grew up. Once Sir James's wife had died, he had retired to the country for a long time. This was the first time she had seen him out in society in at least six years.

  He was a kind man, and still handsome despite his years. His once jet-black hair had turned gray, and his skin bore the evidence of wind and sun that had been his legacy as a ship's captain in His Majesty's Navy. But his hazel eyes still shone with innate good humor, and his body was still lean, though more with age than with muscle.

  Having reached her emotional limit between Garrett and Malcolm, Lucinda had needed nothing more than Sir James's mention of her father to shatter the last thread of her composure.

  "I am sorry to have turned into a watering pot," she said, trying to pull the shreds of her dignity about her. "The evening has been rather taxing."

  "Are you here with your husband?" Sir James asked.

  Lucinda shook her head. "Harry passed on over a year ago. I am... assisting the Duke of Raynewood with his granddaughter. The girl is from America and lacked companionship." The lie nearly choked her. It was so difficult to tell a falsehood to such an old family friend, but no one could know of her financial difficulties, or of her bargain with the duke.

  "So you have taken the girl under your wing," Sir James said with a nod. "You always were a good-hearted young woman, Lucinda."

  No, just a desperate one.

  "What brings you to London, Sir James?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation to less dangerous topics.

  "Loneliness," he replied with a self-mocking grin. "Life just has not been the same for me without my dear Portia. I thought the gaiety of London might ease my heart."

  She laid a sympathetic hand on his arm. "Oh, Sir James."

  "It's all right," he said, patting her hand. "I have Roger. He's married, you know, and they have two children. I'm a grandfather now."

  "You're too young to be a grandfather," Lucinda said with a smile.

  He chuckled. "You're good for me, my dear. It's a pleasure to see a familiar face in this huge city. I vow, I don't know anyone anymore. Would you consider me too familiar if I asked to call on you tomorrow?"

  "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "You have been a dear friend of the family ever since I can remember. I would be delighted to receive you, Sir James."

  He took her hand delicately in his. "Lucinda, my dear, I am not asking to call on you as a friend of the family. I have decided to marry again
. And now that I know you are a widow, I would be honored if you would allow me to call on you for purposes beyond friendship."

  Startled, she barely kept her mouth from falling open. "Why...of course, Sir James. As I said, you are always more than welcome to call."

  He laughed. "I've shocked you, I can tell, though the Northcott dignity would hide it from anyone who hasn't known you for as long as I have. Don't worry, my dear, I shan't rush you. I would simply like the opportunity to court you."

  He lifted her hand to his lips, and she blinked in surprise. "Of course, Sir James. Though I have to admit, you have startled me."

  "My dear Lucinda," he said with a grin, "I have startled myself. You may expect me in your sitting room tomorrow."

  "Very well," she said. He bowed and walked away, and she stared after him with wide eyes.

  Good heavens! She had a suitor.

  Chapter 14

  The foyer smelled like a damned funeral parlor. Garrett paused in descending the stairs and gazed at the dozens of floral arrangements that sat upon every flat surface in the foyer. Like a couple of honeybees, Lucinda and Meg moved from arrangement to arrangement, reading the cards and buzzing on about who sent what.

  Good Lord, were all these flowers for Meg? He scowled as he realized his sister had become quite popular with the useless London dandies. The sooner he got her back to Boston, the better.

  The thought came almost from habit, and suddenly, he wondered what he was waiting for.

  Meg had made her court appearance already, and yet he felt no urgent need to bundle her aboard the nearest ship and sail back to America.

  It certainly wasn't because he liked England, he thought fiercely. A more useless bunch of people he had yet to meet, not an honest day's work out of any of them. And it was for no great love of his family, though he liked Lady Agatha and enjoyed Knightsbridge's company.

  No, the reason he was still in England was right in front of him, wearing a pink dress and looking as sweet and tasty as something in the bake shop window. He and the lovely Lucinda had unfinished business, and he refused to leave until it was concluded to his satisfaction.

  "Lucinda!" Meg squealed. The high pitch of her voice echoed through the foyer and made him wince. "Lucinda, look! These are for you!" The skirts of her green-striped gown spun as Meg whirled to face Lucinda with a tasteful arrangement of spring flowers in her hands.

  "What?" Lucinda gasped.

  What the hell? Garrett echoed silently.

  "These are for you! I didn't even know you had an admirer!"

  "Neither did I." Hesitantly, Lucinda took the arrangement from Meg and reached for the card. "Goodness, it's from Sir James."

  "Lucinda, you sly thing! Why didn't you tell me you had a suitor?" Meg asked with a grin.

  "It all happened rather suddenly." Closing her eyes, Lucinda buried her face in the flowers and inhaled their scent. A smile of pleasure crossed her face.

  Garrett remembered seeing that same expression on her face when she had run her fingers through his hair two nights ago in his bed.

  Damn and blast, didn't she know that he had prior claim on her attentions? Oh, he had overheard her conversation with this Sir James last night. The fellow was fifty if he was a day. What could he offer a passionate young woman like Lucinda?

  Aside from the respectable marriage she craved.

  "So who is Sir James?" Meg teased. "I haven't seen you dance with anyone but Garrett at the affairs we have attended!"

  Lucinda blushed. "He's an old family friend. I saw him last night at the ball."

  Meg's face fell. "Oh, then he's not a suitor?"

  Lucinda hesitated, then cleared her throat. "Actually, he did ask to call on me, and he made it quite clear that it was for reasons other than friendship."

  "Oh, I'm so excited for you!" Meg grabbed Lucinda in a hug that nearly crushed the flowers. "Now we shall both receive gentleman callers today."

  "Apparently so," Lucinda replied with a fond smile at the girl. She looked up and saw Garrett on the stairs, and her smile faded.

  Meg followed her gaze. "Garrett, there you are! Look at all these flowers! Even Lucinda got some."

  Garrett forced a smile to his lips, his eyes locked with Lucinda's as he descended the stairs. "I doubt there's a posy left in all of London, puss."

  "I'm going to tell Lady Agatha to come see!" Meg rushed up the stairs past Garrett.

  Lucinda continued to watch as Garrett slowly approached her. She hadn't said a word to him after their encounter last night, and she'd hoped he would've gone out before the afternoon callers arrived.

  Before Sir James arrived.

  He stopped in front of her. "Lovely flowers," he said.

  "I... yes, they are."

  "From an admirer?"

  She lifted her chin. "Yes."

  "From that man I saw you with last night, the older one with the gray hair?"

  "Yes, Captain." She raised her brows in mock inquiry. "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

  "May I read the card?"

  "No, you may not! It is none of your affair, sir."

  His eyes narrowed. "My affair is not going at all as I planned. The woman I am having the affair with is receiving flowers from another man!"

  "Will you hush?" she hissed. "Sir James is a perfectly nice man, and an old family friend."

  "And he wants you," Garrett added. "I was there last night, Lucinda. I heard what he said."

  Her mouth dropped open. "You were spying on me?"

  "I saw you were upset." He waved his hand, as if searching for words. "I wanted to help."

  She gave a harsh laugh. "You had done enough at that point, Captain."

  "Garrett," he corrected.

  "Captain," she insisted.

  They stared at each other, neither willing to give way.

  "Two more minutes, and I would have been inside you," he murmured. "Two more minutes, and you would not have seen any other man but me."

  "Two more minutes, and I would have disgraced myself," she corrected in a low voice.

  "You wanted me," he insisted.

  "Yes, but to do that where we were, to neglect my responsibilities and abandon my dignity, would have destroyed me."

  A footman walked by, and both of them held their tongues until he was out of earshot. Then Garrett leaned closer to her. "You are making too much of this, Lucinda. It's just sex."

  She stiffened. "Exactly, Captain. Not love, and not worth sacrificing everything I have for a few moments of pleasure."

  "That's not what I meant." He clenched his hands into fists. "This Sir James. He's old, Lucinda. You're a passionate young woman. He won't be able to satisfy you."

  "Oh, but he can," she replied. "His intentions are honorable, Captain. Unlike yours, which are the basest of motives."

  He took the flowers from her hands and plunked them down on a nearby table. "If you can't tell the difference between casual lust and sincere admiration, then you have much to learn, my dear."

  "And I assume you see yourself as my teacher?" she asked coolly.

  Taking her arm, he lowered his voice. "Do we finish this in private, Lucinda, or do we continue this here, where the servants can listen to every word?"

  He would do it, too, she realized. He had nothing to lose, and the servants were used to his barbaric ways. But there were things she wanted to say to him, as well.

  "Very well," she said. "Let's go into the sitting room."

  He bowed, sweeping his arm in a gesture that indicated she should precede him. With a sniff, she walked ahead of him into the sitting room.

  He followed her in, then closed the door behind him.

  "Open that door," she demanded.

  "No." He leaned back against it. "We are going to have this out, Lucinda."

  "There is nothing to have out, Garrett," she replied. "You and I have been at cross purposes from the beginning."

  "I rather thought we were in agreement two nights ago," he murmured.
<
br />   At the look on his face, Lucinda almost groaned. Even now, she wanted him. "I have never made any secret of the fact that I need a husband, Captain, just as you have never made any secret of the fact that you are leaving England. That puts us at cross purposes."

  "It doesn't have to be that way."

  "It does," she insisted. "What would you think of a man who wanted nothing from Meg but an affair?"

  His face darkened. "I would kill the bastard. My sister is worth more than that."

  "And I am not?"

  He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again.

  "It's not the same," he said finally.

  "But it is." She smiled sadly. "I am worth more than a few nights of passion, Garrett. You have taught me much about that side of myself, and I thank you. But my place in society requires that I marry, not indulge in love affairs.

  "I respect your decision, Garrett, as you must respect mine. Do I come to you, begging you to wed me? No. As you said, we are two adults, and we have had a discreet liaison. But my goals are different from yours. You cannot give me what I want, so I must look elsewhere."

  "I don't have what I want yet," he said in a low growl, looking as if he would devour her right there.

  She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I have given you everything I can afford to."

  He stepped toward her. "Don't try and tell me that you don't want me, Lucinda. I would hate to call you a liar."

  "I do want you." She laughed at his surprised expression. "I am honest with myself, if nothing else, Garrett. I may not want to want you, but my body does not always do my bidding."

  "What harm can there be in continuing our affair?" he cajoled. "We can be as discreet as you want."

  She lifted her chin. "I have reasons, Garrett. You don't know everything there is to know about me. Please just accept that I must do this."

  "If Sir James asks you to marry him, you'll say yes, won't you?"

  She nodded. "Probably. I am fond of Sir James, and I have known him all my life. I could do much worse."

  "Did you love your first husband?"

  She stiffened. "I prefer not to discuss my marriage to Harry."